#hope, Ambiguous Grief

Thank you letters.

Dear 2017,

You are the WORST. Yet somehow, you began with hope and oddly, you end the same way. What’s that all about? A sandwich of suffering, you are.

In the middle though, February – November, you were brutal.  Filled with endless days of shock, grief, confusion, anger, sadness, and loss.  Days that are a blur now, blending all into one heap of a week, a month, a year.  The relentless tidal wave that drown me in my own tears during your reign have finally started to receded, though like an astute lifeguard, I am vigilant for their return.best worst year

Friends comment on how hard you have been on me. How brave I am to have endured your relentless punishment.  (as if you gave me a choice) Enduring heartbreak again and again and again. (and again.)

Seriously? I get it.

You can let up now.

Like a broken record that skips and repeats the same lines over and over again. I stutter-stepped through your days, going through motions to care for children and pets, and occasionally, myself.  I am grateful my body had muscle memory to do so.  My children saw me deep in grief, more days than not.

During your tenure, my spark dulled, my mind raced and my body ached.

CONSTANTLY.

Exercise felt like death and relief was nowhere to be found.

You probably thought I was out for the count. But that would mean you underestimated My People. My incredible friends and family. They pulled me out of the rubble and stood me up again.  With their love and support in this year of YOU, 2017, I took

every. single. blow

and got up again

every.single.time. 

During your onslaught of pain, I uncovered and grew the greatest gifts of my lifetime.

God. Family. Friends. Love. Integrity. Loyalty. Compassion. Care. Grace.

I am not what happened to me this year.

I know who I am.

Thanks to you, I am better than I ever have been before.

You, 2017 are the package that holds the death of my marriage. A love I planned to cherish for a lifetime. You are also the steward of my new life.  A life where I can live according to my own values: in honesty, empathy, love, and grace.

Without you, I wouldn’t have known, really known, how high above the trees I see life, and how deeply and genuinely I love.

I wouldn’t know that grieving the loss of a living loved one is the hardest thing I would have to do in my 43 years.

I wouldn’t know that I could come out of this experience with strengthened relationships and beautiful new friendships – more like war buddies- I can’t imagine this time without.

I wouldn’t have known how much I was not honored or respected, how I was so taken advantage of, lied to, betrayed.

I wouldn’t have known the depths of God’s Grace and the strength of my own uncompromising integrity.

You held up a mirror to my life and reminded me to hold true to the courage of my convictions, and reminded me to seek values in others that align with my own.  Doing this both removed and strengthened my relationships. But you probably already knew that would be the case. Perhaps that was your silent agenda all along.

You sprinkled in gifts and strengthened me.  You affirmed for me who I am, who loves me, and who doesn’t.  You beat me down and made me better.  I hope I never see another year like you, but I leave you in gratitude.

Thanks for the lessons,

Stephanie

Dear 2018,

Thanks for showing up.

I’m about to rise.

Watch out.

Stephanie

Fire

 

 

 

 

 

1 thought on “Thank you letters.”

  1. This is simply outstanding! What a poetic beautiful hard-hitting and honest description of the bottomless difficulties some of us faced in 2017. You are a gifted writer filled with deep insight. Thank you!

    Liked by 1 person

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