Diary of a Quitter. Part I

Today is a DAY.  Do you know what I mean?  I woke up and was crying before I'd even gotten out of bed.  I had a hard night last night and have been struggling through the morning.  I feel the pain of loss with such freshness today.  Yesterday I read some things Matt had journaled about in the last year and a half.  The constant theme was Waverley.  He loved her so.  He missed her like I miss her.  He cried out over her and ached for her.  Now that Matt is gone I feel further from my girl.  There's no one left that raised her for those few, too-short years besides me.  No one that delighted in her like me left either.  We would always think of ourselves as her parents no matter what.  We would always love her with all of our hearts.  It felt better when it was a collective heart -- his and mine.  Now it's just mine.  Which seems insufficient.  And small.  And so very, very wrong.

When Matt was here I could still feel the four-ness of our family.  Even if we were three, that spot was there for Waverley.  Now that we are two I feel totally unraveled.  Just clinging to Harper.  We seem insufficient.  And small.  And so very, very wrong.

The other day Harper said from the backseat, "There's just two of us now. What will we do for Halloween? Who will take me trick or treating?"
"I will," I assured her.
"You can't.  Kids need you to be home to hand out candy when they ring our doorbell."
"Oh it's okay, we'll just leave a basket of candy out," I reasoned.
"I don't know if that will work, Mom.  We'll have to ask someone for help.  Maybe I can go with a friend..."

This reminded me of a few weeks ago during counseling when she said a girl in a picture looked worried.  The counselor asked Harper what the girl was worried about.  "Everything," Harper answered quickly.  The counselor then asked what Harper worried over.  "There is so much to be worried about," Harper answered quietly with sad conviction.  It's true for her.  There is so much to be worried about.  Her sister is gone.  Her daddy is gone.  I can't do all of the mommy jobs and all of the daddy jobs.  Our world has become chaotic for her.

So I have quit my part time job in order to just be home with her and try to ease Harper's sweet mind and help unburden her tender heart as much as I can.  To be more available to her.  I want to help her and provide stability in her life.  I want to help her overcome her fears and resolve her concerns.  I can't do it all.  She needs the peace of God, healing that will hopefully come with time, and comfort that comes just from her mom.  I am working on cutting out whatever I can to work towards that end.  For now that means work.  I need to take care of myself during the day so I can better care for her in the afternoon and evenings.  

This is my first week off so I'm not quite sure what it will look like.  Reading and being quiet and still for sure.  Maybe some extra sleep.  Taking walks with my neighbor-friend and having coffee with my mother in law.  Lighting candles.  Breathing.  I don't know.  I think it will be a good thing.  

I am trying to move more fully into this new normal.  I am trying to get through these DAYS.  I am trying to reconcile all that is so wrong into feeling okay.  I am busting into the emergency cookies I keep in the glove compartment in the car.  Today I had them out before I left Harper's school parking lot.  Because I'm sad, but I'm smart.  And smart girls like me know that there will be days where you need to eat a cookie right away.  That's how you know I'm going to make it.