A Small Light

For almost a year and a half I have not been able to read anything for pleasure. I read the Bible for comfort, I skim articles on the internet about farming but to pick up a book and read it for pleasure, I have not been able to do. I use to love to read but the words just jumble in my mind and make no sense. I can't pay attention and lose interest. I have not even had the desire to read. Today, I went to the store and I found myself in the book aisle. I picked up several books and read the back. They looked interesting to me. I wanted to read them. I don't know if I will be able to sit down and read them yet, but it was a glimmer of hope to me that someday I may actually find joy in reading again. Perhaps one of the things I enjoyed in the past will become part of my new normal.

I think I've found the "New Normal"

The realization hit me recently that I have reached the "new normal". About two months ago I actually began to "function" again to almost full capacity. I don't know that I will ever again be able to throw myself into life and work the way I did before Josh died. I have, however, found a slower, steady pace...............one that does not involve as many dreams of a beautiful future (on this earth) and one that recognizes that nothing in this world is permanent. With this new normal, so many things that seemed to matter before, just don't matter anymore. This new normal brings with it the realization that this hurt in my heart is just not going to lesson. In some ways, yes, it's true, I learn how to deal with it and grow stronger. Still, I find myself suddenly panic at times and cry out, "This just can't be real. Josh can't really be gone." Yet, I know he is and I must deal with the loss because I have no other choice. It's really very unfair but what sense would there be in fighting it? It's a fact whether it's fair or not and I have no choice but to deal with it. The reality that everything I love can be taken from me in an instant causes me to wonder what is going to be next. The frustration in knowing that nothing I hold dear is immune from suddenly being snatched from my life causes me to sometimes view life as futile. Yet, my heart filled with love for those who remain within reach of my touch and voice keeps me from giving into despair and causes me to keep trying. My memories of my precious son and the desire to make him proud and be the strong mother he would want me to be, gives me just enough strength to go on. This new normal is just so hard.