Hit a brick wall

I finally did it.  I finally fell apart and couldn't function Elijah.  I've been going and going and going since you passed.  I had to return to work one week after you died and I've worked every week since. I've added work with Lanore.  I've cleaned house, I've diverted myself with football.  But it all came crashing in yesterday.  I couldn't get out of bed.  I kept resetting my alarm figuring I could just get to work at 8.  Nothing worked.  I sent a text to my boss then went to sleep.  I slept until 11:30 am and got up because I was hungry.  I had a little bowl of cereal then went back to bed and slept until 3:00 pm.  I don't remember being this mentally exhausted in all of my life.  So much that I'm sad about. Sad about losing you; sad about losing your future; sad about losing faith; sad about discovering I know nothing; sad that I have to start learning about life all over again; sad about relationships; sad about the pain your brothers are suffering; sad I can't fix anything; sad that I don't know where to turn; sad that I've gotten so out of shape over the last 5 years; sad that I can't do things I used to be able to do. I've hit a brick wall.  I've got to figure out how to get around this wall, how to climb this wall, or how to destroy this brick wall. I read your quote on Facebook about how great life is and how we need to grasp and appreciate it.  I want to do it, but right now I can't Elijah.  Lots of times I just want to die.  I've even contemplated suicide but I'm too cowardly.  I miss you.  You've left such an enormous hole in my life.  Kinda funny, you left a hole and I've hit a brick wall.  How do those even go together?  The madness that it is.....

I Just Can't

We all spoke after you died about the many places we wanted to carry your ashes. Places you wanted to go, things you wanted to see. At least your ashes could be there. But Elijah, I can't do it. Right after you died we took your ashes to the Redwoods in California. I thought it would be an event that gave some solace to my soul. But, as your dad and brothers climbed that huge rock protruding out of the ocean and opened the bottle to let your ashes fly in the breeze into the ocean, I died all over again. I didn't want to let a single part of you go. When it came time to spread ashes in the Redwoods after that, I couldn't be there. I couldn't watch a part of you go again. Today your dad wants us to go to the aspen grove in Utah that you wanted to visit and spread some ashes. I'm sorry Elijah, I can't do it. It's hard for me to even think about the fact that we had your body cremated. Before we did I thought all these glorious things about your body returning to the earth to nourish it. Now I think of your body not existing. You see, as a young girl and through 49 years of membership in the church I've read of bodies arising from their graves to meet Christ. I know it's silly to think so black and white about it, but your body doesn't exist to rise if that happens. Where would you be when you arose? How would I find you? I know intellectually that this is really silly. Are Adam and Eve's bodies to be found anywhere? What about the pioneers who were wrapped in blankets on the plains and left to the wolves to eat? What about all those people whose religions have their bodies creamated? What about the bodies wrecked with body parts strewn all about? What about those whose bodies are exploded by bombs and deteriorate into nothing? Intellectually I realize our bodies will return eventually to the earth, but I guess somehow I hope you would have been allowed to re-enter yours and come back to us. I know if that was going to happen in could have before you were cremated, they had your body for a week. But to think that we cremated you, it's just been really, really hard for me. Then to willingly give up your ashes.... well, I just can't.

Brains

I am discovering new things about my brain. It has a hard time accepting something that it doesn't want to be. It gets tired very easily. It doesn't keep lots of information like it did before Elijah died. It races all the time but sometimes feels so empty in its race. The brain overwhelms the body. Ok, so I knew some of this stuff about my brain but it's on repeat every day. It's just plain weird living knowing Elijah isn't. Why didn't the world stop? Why does everyone go on? I don't like my new normal. I read quotes about how I create my own happiness; I need to take an optimistic view because life is what I make it; Elijah's in a better place; I'll see him again. My head and brain get this. My heart doesn't. The two aren't walking hand in hand and right now I'd rather pay attention to my heart. I know if I listened to my head maybe things could change but as I was at the Wilco concert last night having a good time, all of a sudden I felt guilty that I could feel like having a good time. I thought, "How would it have felt to Elijah to have known his mom could be dancing and smiling while he was dead and not getting to enjoy the bands he loved? I just sat down and cried. I get upset with myself that I can even consider finding joy without him. It's rather a revolting thought to me right now. People say he would want me to be happy. Maybe so, but as a daughter I feel a little crushed thinking my mom could ever be happy if I died. I know it's crazy. These are the thoughts that run through my mind and nothing is ever settled these days. Tomorrow is 3 months since he closed his eyes and stopped breathing. It's so hard to take that that happened because he told me he was afraid to go to sleep because he was afraid he wouldn't wake up and I wasn't there to assure him I'm keep him breathing. Maybe he was so tired he wanted to stop. Mike did try immediately to resuscitate him. I would have yelled at him to wake up. I would have tried and tried and tried. I would have fought for him like I promised. Maybe he just relaxed so much everything just stopped and couldn't be awakened, but I wasn't there to tell him (if his spirit is still alive and it left his body and he saw everyone), I wasn't there for him to see that I didn't want him to die. I know he knew it, but I feel cheated that I didn't have the chance to maybe feel his spirit leave. I don't know. I know I'm just babbling but my heart hurts. I miss him. I can't believe I'll never see him again as long as I have this mortal life. I really want him to show himself to me in the spirit. Why, Why, Why must I live by faith? Isn't it enough that I have to live the next however long I have without him? I hate this.