I’ve always felt led to use honesty just in case anyone else feels alone.
This is my current position in my room. Hugging this beautiful blanket of Laila’s clothes (thank you Debby Harbour Cacovski). Five years ago today was the last time I held her.
The last three months have been drenched in grief about Laila. I’ve processed and prayed and identified reasons why it’s been harder this year. I’m working through it in healthy ways but that doesn’t mean it’s easy.
I’ve spent a lot of time in quiet and alone. Not in an unhealthy way, but allowing God space to be the one I run to.
I can still see so many blessings from her life and death and I’m so grateful for that perspective but the pain remains. It comes in waves. I’m thankful that the waves aren’t a flood anymore. The tide rises and falls and that’s ok. It’s ok that I’m in a season of high tide.
This feeling means there was so.much.love and sometimes I just have to let it pour out of my eyes, the way God designed my body to process.
I know I’m not the only one struggling. So know that if you are that person, my prayers are for you too.
We do not walk this journey alone.
It’s ok if not every picture is smiles and joy.