Today marks 17 months since my husband passed away. I've been thinking about it a lot today, even though the monthly markers have been a little easier lately. I suppose some people would think that by this point I should be "over it" or "back to normal", but theres no normal that I can get back to, only a new one to figure out.
I work at a women's health care facility that is also an out-of-hospital birth center. I see women and children and families and brand new babies every day. Today all I could think about was how very much like a toddler I am, or rather, my grief is. It can walk, but sometimes needs a hand to hold, sometimes it falls. It can string some words together and recognize familiar objects or people. And like so many toddlers, its struggling to find the balance between independence and dependence- learning the limits of new abilities, developing skills, but also developing a fear of abandonment.
Most of this time I feel ok. But I often find myself relearning how I feel about things, how I interact with people, what I want to be. I struggle with the things I think I want and the things I know Im not yet ready for.
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