Day 173/365 Normal Day

Since Dad died in January, I’ve been big on planning things to look forward to – I took a trip of sorts (sometimes two) every month from March onward.  Having something to which to look forward seemed to help alleviate some of the misery I was feeling (albeit only temporarily).

As in…

I feel really depressed…but in two weeks I am going to Savannah with friends. Everything will be awesome then!

And it was...until I inevitably had to come back to my regular life.

I hit some deep lows after those trips.

Then there was the summer –

The girls and I were entirely without a routine, with lots of fun adventures together. It felt as though the entire summer was a break from reality.

The fact that this is the first fall I can remember in which I have not been longing (not even in the slightest bit) to get back into a routine, tells me just how much I have wanted (needed) to escape from “normal”.

Normal without Dad is just not normal. 

Yet, here I find myself, faced with the reality of normalcy – and I am trying not to bottom out yet again.

So far, I’m okay…

Optimistic, even.

Here’s what I’m going to try…

Instead of making big plans* in order to distract myself, I’m just going to work on making today good.

Tomorrow I’ll work on making tomorrow good…and on and on.

I’m going to survive this fall and winter not by skipping ahead, but by slowing down. 

I have had this verse sitting on my dresser for over a year now. I immediately loved it when I saw it, but frankly the sentiment is a difficult one to subscribe to when you’re grieving.

When you are doing your best just to tread water, blessing the day before it departs is just…not happening. Well, unless you are saying, “Thank God that’s over!”  but I’m pretty sure that’s not what Ms. Iron intended.

I’ve realized there is no magic period of time after which I will be healed. I am forever altered; never again completely whole.

Therefore, waiting for tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow to begin to find peace and joy in daily life….well, after a while that seems like a waste of a whole lot of todays.

“Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow.”



{*Definitely making plans to visit Lynette though. I miss her so much.}