In all the years I’ve gone to Ocean City, yesterday was the first time I’d ever driven here myself and alone at that. A small part of me wondered if being in the same place where Chris and I often vacationed would bother me. When I’m about to do something or go somewhere that held special meaning to us, I often try to “prepare” myself or at least be kind enough to myself to review my feelings and “see” if I’m okay.
About halfway in on my drive, a song came on the radio and shot me straight through the heart. It sent those happy tears streaming down my face again like they did a few weeks ago and I found myself filled with immense gratitude. My heart so light it almost flew out of my chest. I wiped the tears from my eyes while thanking God and thanking Chris.
Writing my journey through grief has been very difficult for me. There’s something about writing those dark parts of my life that have pulled me back into the whirlwind of emotions I was feeling. The darkness attempted again and again to take over my heart these past six months while I’ve been working on the book.
The nitty gritty writing of this book is now behind me and there’s a great sense of closure settling in. It’s odd to explain but it’s there. Something big, something tremendously wonderful is resting pooling around my heart. I can’t explain it—maybe it’s all the reflection of where I was to where I am and how differently I feel. Maybe it’s knowing that even though the grief gremlin can still strike me, I’ve armed myself with the tools and abilities to cope.
I’m typing this post curled up on a couch with my napping niece, a couch that holds special memories. Around this time of year, in this very spot, seven years ago on a similarly cloudy day, Chris playfully took a ring off my finger and replaced it with a diamond and asked me to marry him. I wondered if I’d have any anxiety over this place and I’m happy to say I have none. While my life has dramatically changed since those seven years ago, I’m grateful for all the places it has taken me, and how I managed to be lucky enough to be sitting in a quiet room, curled up on this couch with a little girl who loves her Aunt Shell.
It’s a miracle to me that my heart doesn’t hurt. How I can sit here and think about all the memories with Chris in this place and not feel the walls closing in on me. I hope this feeling of wonder and gratitude is something I never lose. It makes life magical. The ability to be thankful and bask in the happiness of memories instead of their ending is nothing short of a miracle in my eyes. It wasn’t long ago that I never would’ve believed I could feel this way that the hurt would ever subside and find a place to rest instead of raging agony inside my heart.
With all the negativity around us it’s hard to truly believe in the power of good over evil. But it exists. Healing exists. I will repeat this time and time again because I want YOU to believe it. I want you to truly believe that you’ll find peace. Your life might not look like you imagined it should but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Keep fighting through the hurt, the disappointments, the sorrows. Keep pushing forward. Because there’s nothing quite like this feeling of freedom and magic. I want you to experience this, too. Never give up on your always and forever. Never give up on finding happiness in your sadness, healing in your hurt. And until you do, I’ll be over here praying for you.
Your prayers changed my life. God healed my heart. It’s because of YOU I’m here in this magical place. I love you more than words. With any luck, I hope these words wind around your heart and remind you, miracles are real. They happen every day. If it happened to me, it can happen to you. <3
#LoveHugsAndSunshine #MiraclesAreReal #GriefReflections #DontGiveUpOnYourMiracle