Thursday, April 14, 2011

Hearts and heads...

Dear Sara,

Today was a difficult day. I’ll spare you the details, but it was a stark display of how far apart my head and my heart are. I’ve had so many “better” days recently that I just wasn’t prepared for today. Even though I think about you and Miranda all the time, I'm finding that the hard grieving is coming is shorter bursts, with more time in between them. I'm also finding that the tears that constantly filled my eyes just a few weeks ago have receded, they still come out regularly, but only when called upon as certain instances in my day bring them out.



My head (that logical part of me that sees reason, understands how the world works, etc.) knows that you and Miranda are gone and nothing will change that. My head says that life will go on. My head says that things will be OK. My head says that I may even find happiness with someone else some day. My head allows me to deal with the world, because it’s still turning. The sun still comes up in the east every morning and sets in the west every night.

My heart is so very far behind my head…

My heart wants you back. My heart wants the things that my head is telling it I can’t have. My heart shrieks loudly when my head tries to console it with thoughts that the future will be OK. My heart punches back with furious anger when my head tries to reason that life will go on and that I may eventually find happiness again with someone else. My heart doesn’t want anyone else. My heart wants you.

It was my heart that sent shouts of guilt to my head around three in the afternoon on Saturday when I realized I’d been enjoying my motorcycle ride for about four hours and still had almost three hours left before I’d be home. It was my head that reminded my heart you weren’t at home waiting jealously/patiently for me to return and spend time with you.  My heart didn't fight back, but it hurt a little.

I wonder if my heart will ever get to where my head is? I tend to think that it may get close, but never all the way. You and Miranda will always occupy a quiet little spot there, no matter how far it moves forward in this process…and that’s probably the way it’s supposed to be. The way God intended it to be.

I love you. I miss you. Give Miranda a kiss from daddy.

Love,
Chad