that was actually quite a hard sentence to type. i've been sitting at the computer many times over the last few weeks, wanting to blog but not knowing how to make the transition...
my last entry, a couple years ago, was all about mason. how does one go from a frazzled, sarcastic, sleep deprived, overwhelmed mother of 4 who laments the woes of homeschooling and laughs about the naughtiness of her children... to a mother of 3 who can't quite seem to function with that missing number?
the world stopped in many ways one month ago today. i was overwhelmed (in a wonderful way) at how many people shut down their lives to grieve with us. we were flooded with love... meals, groceries, cards, flowers... essentials for life like chocolate and toilet paper. we would just start to think about something we needed, and it would show up at our doorstep (not kidding). God met us so completely in the midst of our heartbreak. it was beautiful and our friends and church family along with our own extended grieving family, loved us and responded immediately to us.
and in many ways, it feels now like the world around me, and many people around me, have kept moving on. this is a good thing. this is a natural thing. (it was weird those first weeks to look at news for the first time and be genuinely surprised that there were headlines. like, surely everything had stopped. i mean, my child is dead. how can we still have crises like ebola and ISIS?)
and while i know that the lives of people close to me have been profoundly changed forever along with ours, i still feel like life keeps moving and i'm stuck.
lost somewhere between what was once wonderful and beautiful and carefree (though at the time i thought i was overwhelmed and exhausted) and...
well, between that and not knowing how to find a new normal.
and truthfully, not really wanting to.
i miss you, mason.
