Grief Bombs

It's funny how this new diagnosis for our girls has impacted my emotional state.

Last week I felt like I was 'dealing' pretty well.

I had had several good days all in a row.

Then.... it hit.

For some reason, the emotions just came rushing back.

Being part of 'support groups' with other families of children with diabetes is immensely helpful, but it's also quite depressing.

Days when I'm feeling 'on top of the world' and like 'we've got this', come crashing down when I see a post of a traumatic experience another family is going through.

The emotions - the tears - come rushing back.

The knowledge that 'one day that could be us,' hits hard.

It's ironic, the things that build up and support you also cause your knees to crumble and knock you down.

Just recently I read a headline of one of longest surviving individuals with Type 1 Diabetes in history. She lives in Australia and she just celebrated her 80th birthday.

That news, though positive, exciting even for this women, brought me to tears.

I'll be honest, I hadn't even thought about the fact that my little girls' life expectancies were drastically reduced the day they were diagnosed as children with type 1 diabetes.

Talk about sobering.

Don't get me wrong, I know that all of our days are numbered.  Any one of us could get eaten by a mountain lion tomorrow ;-), but... yet... the acceptance that THIS DISEASE has taken days.... years.... off of the girls' little lives, was yet another blow to the chest.

Another reality of our new life.  Our new adventure.

I'm learning that grief isn't as 'textbook' in it's emergence as I'd like.  It has this tendency to throw what I'm calling 'grief bombs' my way.

Just when I think it's smooth sailing - a bomb surfaces.

It explodes causing a ripple effect in my mood; my emotions; my thoughts.

I'm learning to be alert for such bombs ---- surprises.

I'm aware they can appear out of nowhere.  Anytime.

I'm learning to absorb the shock these bombs cause and then move on with my day in a more 'normal' fashion.

These sticks of dynamite don't have to pull me into a pit of despair.

I can take the blow; pray; deal with the feelings; and move on - right then, right there....

... Or at least in close proximity to right then, right there.