Entry 44: Like a Bruise

I have been thinking about this a lot lately when thinking about how to describe my grief. It feels like someone has a constant hand holding my heart. You know how sometimes when you touch a bruise it hurts but feels kind of good at the same time.  Sometimes a memory or a thought or an action squeezes my heart lightly and it is that good kind of pain. The good of having the love that was so good and the hurt that it is gone. It could be a sweet picture on TimeHop that gives my heart a little squeeze. Or it could be a hilarious Disney memory that Brian was part of. A friend reaching out to share a dream they had about Brian, naming your trivia team for name that Disney tune at the pool Bolts then winning, or the fact that getting grief cards have become a "new normal".  Whatever it is, the little squeeze reminds me of him, makes me smile or even tear up but leaves me feeling that touch a bruise, good kind of hurt.

There are other times where I feel that hand holding my heart just squeezes the heck out of it. Like one of those stress balls with the eyes that pop out when you squeeze it. It is like when you repeatedly bump your bruise into the same corner of the bed. It hurts like hell.  This happens unexpectedly too. For example, last week Harper says, "Mommy I need a new Daddy." GAH! Just rip my heart out why don't ya?!  I talked it out with her. In her amazing three-year-old logic, she said, "I don't have a daddy because he died so I need a new one."  This makes perfect sense to her. When a toy breaks, I always say, "It's okay, we will get a new one." When a cherished cookie is stolen by a dog, "It's okay, we will get a new one."  As I cried in the front seat. she continued to tell me about needing a new Daddy, and my heart hurt. The bad kind. The bang you shin into something super hard kind of hurt. I told her that she has an amazing daddy that loves her more than anything and I would like to keep him forever in my heart. To which she replied, "No! I will keep Daddy in my heart, you keep the new Daddy in your heart." Ha! With time to reflect, as I tucked her in, I was able to remind her of all the men in her life who love her like a Daddy. What a lucky girl to have so many "uncles" that truly show her love.

The joke at the end was.. "The opposite is Karen."

These tight squeezes of the heart come very unexpectedly. Today I pull up my vocabulary word of the day in my last period class.  Every vocabulary word has a video of me signing the meaning. I pulled up today's word and there was Brian. I filmed these words last year and have forgotten that he came in my room while I was making them and made a cameo in which he insulted me.  Seeing a picture of Brian gives me that good hurt, light squeeze. But when I hear him talk or see him sign in a video, it's tough. I miss him so much. So as my students learned their new word, and I jokingly called him a jerk for the insult, I couldn't help but tear up. One student said, "Are you crying?" And another says, "Shhh! Don't talk about it!"  How cool that I get to share Brian with them. He still gets to make me laugh in the middle of my school day. But man oh man the missing is tough!

Other good squeezes: My dad wearing Brian's yard hat to do yard work. My bestie, Dani, staying over to hang out and talk grief because we can and it feels bad/good even if it is a school night.  Happy memories of good vacations.
Getting a box of chocolates on my last cheat day, shaped like bolts.  TimeHop pictures that make me smile. Harper calling pictures of her and her Daddy adorable.  Harper being a creep and making crazy facial expressions just like him. Seeing a random lightning bolt on the bottom of the parade actor's costume even though no one else had one. Another friend wearing a shirt at a conference because last time she was there Brian made fun of her for it. A crazy ass dog named Fletcher who does ridiculous things to remind me that Brian raised him.  A fellow widow (ew! that word) at church reaching out to talk and support me.

So although some squeezes are more painful than others, I am thankful that my heart feels supported like it is being constantly held. And although I sometimes touch that bruise purposely, it is the unexpected jabs that get me to most. I am super thankful for a man that is this hard to miss. I am thankful that with his death, I have learned to cherish my time with those I love even more.