7 months…

Every month on the same day (the 28th) no matter how good the day or week was, as the night draws in I’m brought back to the fact time is passing. Another milestone to hurdle over when I never trained for jumping such heights.

I’m glad to say I’m having more genuinely good days, and even some consecutively. Im finding work is slowly becoming easier, and there are less things that become triggers. Importantly I’m getting better about being ok with being ok, owning my good days and happy moments. The other day I felt the closest to the old happy I used to feel before we lost Elliott. Not the same but closer to it than I have been. I’m smiling more, laughing more and crying less.

Yet even with the healing occurring and the fact that more light is returning to me, I often feel as broken as ever, even though you’d probably never tell from the outside. Some days the aching, the yearning, the questioning, the pain is just unbearable and as raw as week 1. Just thinking right now in this moment that I’ve lived 7 months without him I feel kicked in the guts and the heart. I’m on a round about of emotions and I don’t know when I’ll get off. Maybe I’ll stop noticing the 28th of every month when I stop counting in months and start counting in years. Who knows.

I’m about to go light his candle and kiss his photo and urn. I’m about to tell him out loud how much I miss him and love him and think about him everyday. I’ll spend time tonight in the quiet connecting with him, which is something that is hard to explain to others but I know most mummies with angels will know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m going to concentrate on trying to change my thought process to “for 7 months I’ve lived WITH HIM in my heart” instead of “for 7 months I’ve lived without him”.

In the next few hours I might be a zen master at peace with my broken heart. Or I might break some shit. I’ll let you know in the morning…

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