A whole new AND
I’ve been quiet for a while. And I’m not really sure where to begin in telling you my reason for the absence.
In true Heidi fashion, I think the best approach is to just blurt it right out.
I’m in love. With a guy. And I’m not referring to Travis.
And as much joy as this is bringing me, I feel a little bit sick to my stomach in writing those words. To publicly profess this to an audience that has joined me in the deep process of grief feels unsettling. Will they judge me? Will they think it’s too soon? Will they think I’m just “over” my grief? Will they stop listening because if I’m in love I must not be able to relate to grief anymore? And as I write these words, it dawns on me that perhaps I’m really asking all of these questions of myself.
Am I judging myself?
Do I think it’s too soon?
Do I think I’m officially over my grief?
Can I relate to grief anymore?
All of these answers are deeply rooted in “and”.
This relationship showed up sooner than I was planning, AND it feels right and good and beautiful.
I have absolutely thought that I must now be past the big pieces of grief. I can leave that excruciating pain behind me. AND then a big fat grief wave comes out of nowhere. Leaving me surprised, and frustrated, and so sad.
Sometimes I choose joy over grief. Sometimes I want to choose a life that leaves grief behind me. Sometimes I don’t want to be a part of the grief club. AND it’s still there. Sometimes pretty quiet, and sometimes pretty loud. I don’t think I get to choose if I relate to deep grief- I just do. And always will.
I have loved, written, and preached about “and”. I felt pretty confident in embracing the concept and encouraging others to do the same. Isn’t that the way life goes? Just when you think you’ve got something really handled, the Universe hands you a whole new version of it.
I moved through a big piece of my grief embracing “and”. I understood that I could feel the hard stuff and the good stuff all at the same time. I wrote a freaking book about it. Then I got a big ol’ dose of a new kind of and. It threw me off. It had me fighting the and; fighting to embrace that I could feel this AND that. Travis AND Kevin. Hmmmm…
Before I met Kevin, I promised myself so many things about keeping Travis here. Keeping his spirit alive, his memory strong, and his presence known. I would always love Travis the very most. Anyone that I met after him I would love just a little bit less. It was like I thought my heart only had a set amount of love in it and there was only so much left to give.
I’m still grappling with this new AND. I am still struggling to get it sorted out in my head and heart. And I also have learned a few things so far.
My heart is bigger than I ever understood it could be. It’s like having more than one child. You love one with your whole being AND you also love your other child(ren) with your whole being. I have SO MUCH love to give. I can actually have an infinite amount in my heart. So much so that I can love Travis AND Kevin. It’s not a contest, it’s a gift!
Change is hard. Change is messy. Change comes in waves. I had a big dose of change when Travis died. I then tried to keep as many aspects of our life together as intact as possible. A key element of our beautiful life was missing, but despite this our lives would remain as close to what we had as possible. And we did a good job of this. I was adjusting to the change. Then this amazing man comes into my life and brings a whole new dose of change. For me. For my people. For Trav’s people. And this gets hard and it gets messy. How do I hold onto all of the pieces of my life with Travis that I loved AND also move forward with Kevin. How do I make it not feel like I’m moving away from Travis? See? Messy!!
There’s always waves. I wrote a whole post about how grief comes in waves. It does. What I’m learning is that most things come in waves. Grief, joy, peace, change. It ALL comes in waves. And there is not much that sticks indefinitely. The best I can do is just ride the waves- knowing that good or bad, they will pass.
I’m still learning.
My heart is full, and my heart still breaks, and my heart is full, and...
No simple way to wrap this one up.
