And it may be a while still.
I'm trying to get back here, really I am. I have all sorts of stories about skunks and carbon monoxide and houses that won't stay clean and mountains of laundry...you know, the usual mediocre stuff you're used to reading here.
But I'm just not ready quite yet.
Things are still a little raw and painful here, and I'm thinking I need a little more time before I can find the funny again and not feel guilty about it.
Hope you understand, and that you'll come back again soon.
7 comments:
We'll be here whenever you feel like coming back, Chris. Take as lobng as you need. You deserve down time now. Be gentle with yourself.
You just you popping in to say hi and let us know you are getting there - inch by inch - is just fine.
Have been thinking of you - and continuing to pray.
Blessings.
Take your time and let the Lord heal your heart.
Take your time Chris, and know that there are lots of us who are keeping you in our prayers still! Take care and come back when you can,
Debbie from MS
I have all faith that you'll 'find the funny' again. You? Without the funny? That's like whipped cream without the cheesecake. Like Rowan without Martin. Like Pete without Gracie. Like Chai Tea Latte without whatever that crap is that you drink.
We can wait. We just don't like to think of you feeling bad about feeling good. But we understand.
I was looking over some old posts and found a comment you left a while back, so I decided to stop in and say 'hi.' Sounds like this have been crazy your way. I 'get' the part about houses that won't stay clean and mounds of laundry, LOL! However, I'm glad to say I've had little experience with skunks and carbon monoxide--gaggghhh!
It will come in due time, as you know.
And you may find yourself years from now suddenly crying over something related to your mom. That happens to me for my dad, who has been gone a long time.
Grief is like ocean waves...comes in and knocks you down, or at least whacks you, then receedes, and then a wave comes in again. It has been my experience that the waves will come forever. But they will be more gentle and less often. A gentle grief wave hit me today, not for dad but for another loved one who has been gone for nearly 30 years. But it was short, and gentle. It is too soon for the loving memories and fond laughter, but it happens.
Eventually.
Still grieving the loss of my beloved sister last March, and still keeping you in prayer.
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