I Can Do a Lot of Stuff...

Since Joel has died, I quite suddenly have been able to do so many things I couldn't before.  Or that I couldn't do without planning respite and preparing, and there were certainly limits on either how many different things I could do, or on how often I could do them.

I stayed home a lot.  Most of the time, other than some sadness at stay at home vacation or watching other people go camping, most of the time, I didn't mind too much.  I loved staying home with Joel.  Of course, some of my best memories are TAKING JOEL somewhere.  Like last summer, when he felt happy enough to enjoy picnics.  Or our "Staycation."  Or even just the times he was up for and enjoyed a stroller ride or just hanging out in the back yard.

But I didn't mind all the evenings of just being at home with my boys.  Or the afternoons, either.  I know, I'm a bit of a "homebody" for someone who claims to be an extrovert.  But I enjoyed the winter evenings of just cuddling my boy and watch TV or reading a book.  In fact, though respite was really good for us, and for me, because I NEEDED to get out and so did my family, I can also tell you that in a strange way there were many times that I went out on respite day knowing that I was giving something precious up to my respite worker.  Of course, I'm not suggesting she didn't deserve her pay.  It's just that sometimes when I left my smiling and cooing little boy, I knew that I was surrendering to her some precious hours that I'd never get back.  Hours that were on a very short supply.  I did it because I knew it was good for me and the family.  But I also sometimes did it with a pang.  I was happy to get back to Joel at the end of the four hours.

I was fortunate to be so happy in the midst of it all.  There were times, like last spring, where I felt a pang of sadness for missing one of the most lovely spring seasons in a while, due to being in the hospital for much of it.  Yes.  There were times like that.  Sometimes.

This year I can enjoy the spring.  But yet, there is much fiercer pang.  Last year Joel was in hospital during my birthday.  This year around my birthday I couldn't help but feeling it.  Yes.  I wished that I could be in the hospital on those beautiful warm days, I wished I could be in the hospital again, just holding and cuddling Joel.  Of course.  I wished I could just walk into the hospital, abandoning the sun and air and leaves, to find my Joel and hold him.

This was the life I had with Joel.  And I miss it, because I miss him.  It's not that I have no interest in lovely weather and parks, really.  I do.  It's just that I never had much chance to have BOTH that AND Joel.  And if I had to choose, Joel would win every time.

This is NOT to say that I feel guilty about this new freedom, or about walks in the park, or going shopping or for coffee.  I don't feel any guilt about enjoying going out to a movie "when I want," or being able to so easily run to the grocery store on a whim for what to have for supper.  I don't feel guilty about being HAPPY while I do these things.  I truly don't.

Why should I?  I know that Joel has not ceased to exist.  His life is not over.  I know that Joel is enjoying himself immensely and would I want him to sit down in heaven and cry for "poor Mommy" because she misses him so?  NO!!  I'm happy he is happy, joyful and at peace.  He's really got it a lot better than I do.  And I'm sure my sadness is no comfort, consolation, or joy to him.  So I don't feel guilty at all about enjoying these little pleasures that some people take for granted, but that felt so strange to me.  Nice.  Enjoyable.  And strange.  But no guilt.

So I do enjoy them, but at the same time I feel sad.  Sad to be able to enjoy them.  I am happy, in the park, or visiting a friend.  Whatever it may be.  But at the same time a small part of my heart is broken.  Because how ever nice it is, it's not Joel. 

I'm trying not to get swallowed up in longing for him.  I don't want the longing to swallow up the goodness of what I can have now.  It is what I can have.  It is not what I chose.  But it is what I have been given.  So I'm trying to rejoice in it as much as the pain in my heart will let me.  Sometimes just a little.  Sometimes a lot more.  A big jumble of enjoyment and contentment and sadness and pain and longing and peace and happiness and loss.  And that is talking about the easier days. 

This is the day that the Lord has given.   There is much opportunity for good, for rejoicing and being glad.  In amongst the tears and longing.