I think God had the grace to give me a cold so I would be forced to take some time at home today. Busyness is grieving's worst enemy, as it leads to a phenomenon I've decided to call "grief boils". The stuff that you need your alone time to let out builds and builds until something (usually completely unrelated) sets it off and it all drains at once. Like a boil that has been lanced.
I realized about halfway through the morning that I had been so crazy over the last couple of days because somewhere around today (I am NOT going to add another anniversary to my already too-long list of dates, so I choose not to remember the exact date) we found out that Olivia was going to die too.
I think that may have been the bitterest day of all. How can you shatter something that is already broken? I stood on my back step on a cold December day, about a week after my son died, Olivia's car seat in hand, and forced myself to say, "Your will be done, Lord. I don't have the strength for this" as I prepared myself for the diagnosis from the doctor that this mother's heart already knew.
Sometimes I get so annoyed that this is still a part of my life. What is the antidote to grief boils?
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