The Reality of Grief

Reality: I have been hitting it hard. And thinking about it in those terms -- the reality of the situation.

Reality: I think that is part of the reason I have been able to incorporate some of Rob's things into MY life. It is not a matter of worrying what he would think. Or of having to worry that if I used something it better be perfect when I return it.

Reality: I can't come home from the barn and tell him what wonderful things Cici and I did today.

Reality: There is no one to share at the level we always shared.

Reality: He is not here.

Reality: He is not coming back.

Reality: He is not here and won't be here again.

Reality: Not ever.

Reality sucks.

I am trying to keep moving. The temptation to crawl into bed and stay there is overwhelming. But fortunately, I have Cici calling me. And I admit that if I skip a day and do not go out to see her, I pay a price. To myself. I have to get out. I have to keep moving. I have to keep living. Apparently.

So, I'll tell you what I so yearn to tell Rob. I am playing with Cici at liberty and we are walking and trotting together. I am walking next to her, she doesn't have a halter or anything on and she just sticks with me. When I up my energy, she trots with me. We are really connected this morning and I thought... hmm, I wonder if I can get her to stay in sync with me and canter. And she does! It's the first time I have tried this. And she is right with me. My heart is so open. I am a little girl playing horse. I am flying. My beautiful palomino mare is right with me. And when I come back down to earth I am crying. Sobbing.

California showed me I can be out there. But the rubber band stretched too far, and I am pulled back in the other direction -- to grief. It is worse, OK different, than the roller coaster. Two sides of the same coin that somehow someway, someday, I will be able to integrate into one. But for now I swing between the two.