new journey, new blog

I made a new blog for me to talk just about Gavin and this "new journey" we're on. I decided I didn't want to use his old blog for that...I want somewhere else. I haven't been able to post my feelings online for awhile, I'm not sure why. I definitely had no problem doing it before! Part of me is scared to "put them down on paper" because maybe then they won't go away. But I think being able to express them will help me move through them.

There are a LOT of gray areas in my life right now...things I was so sure about before are muddled and confusing. I like things black and white...this is definitely NOT black and white. Trust me when I say that it is so easy for others looking in to be confident in what "we believe" and to feel comfort from that. I.e. "we'll see him again someday" and "Heavenly Father knows all". It is NOT the same when you are actually thrown a situation that forces you to examine "What do *I* REALLY believe?" and having to do this during the most horrible, unimaginable pain ever.

It *is* doubting everything the gospel teaches us...doubting "the plan", doubting an afterlife, a chance to be together again, doubting Heavenly Father's love for us, His involvement in our lives. How can you not??? When everything you care about, everything that matters, everything in your life now rests on whether or not its true??? How can you not be filled with fear at the dreadful thought that creeps into the back of your mind..."but what if its not...?"? When it would take away all your hope, take away your entire reason for taking one breath and then another, take away the meaning of your entire LIFE???

And that is the worst part of all. Being in your own personal Gethsemene, bearing your own personal cross and at the absolute worst part of it feeling forsaken and alone and doubting as Christ did when He was on the cross, and wondered in agony "Why hast Thou forsaken me???". If even Christ himself, being a perfect man, having a perfect knowledge of all things, and knowing the end from the beginning, had to feel that way, then perhaps there is a higher reason for it, some meaning in it, something you have to go through. Or maybe we simply cannot feel the Spirit when we are in that much physical, emotional, and spiritual agony. Maybe even the Spirit cannot console us when we are experiencing a loss that is just too much for our imperfect, veiled, mortal beings to bear. "It is hard to hear the still, small voice when your soul is screaming in pain".

I felt no peace at all this month. None. The night Gavin died I was in such agony, I can't even begin to describe it. I prayed, pleaded, begged that Heavenly Father would at least let me sleep, let me escape this pain for a short while and it never came. It was the most awful night of my entire life. My physical body just could. not. handle that much excrutiating pain. The week after was just numb...all of our family was around, there were so many decisions needed to be made for the funeral, it was the easiest week.

Its the weeks after that have been harder. The torture of that first night returns often...wondering why? how? what if...? going over it in my head, over and over and over and over. Feeling like it is my fault, that I could have done something differently, that I wasn't paying enough attention...how could I possibly live with myself? The overwhelming sadness, missing him so much, wanting to hold him and touch him so much I can't even breathe. Crying until I can no more and there still aren't enough tears to express the pain I feel. Feeling angry, so betrayed at giving all my trust to Heavenly Father, believing with all my heart and soul, giving up my fears and putting it in His hands and then having Him take it all away at the last moment and leaving me all alone. The fear of having faith and hope and trust again. Knowing that even if you can manage to have a "good day", there are tsunamis of emotion just waiting to overtake you again soon.

And then eventually realizing that even knowing doesn't make it feel any less worse. Because that is how it feels no matter what you "know" in your head. Logic and rationale have no place in grieving, no bearing at all. You can be thinking logically and rationally the whole time even while the storm rages in your heart, and it doesn't help at all. Knowing in your head doesn't help the way your heart feels. Its nice to know, but it doesn't bring any comfort because Gavin is still gone today and will be tomorrow, and the next day, and the next and it won't ever stop hurting in this life.

And beyond the horrible, intense waves of emotions that come and go, there is always, always an ever-present aching pain in my heart. It feels like you are always walking in a fog, like a hundred blankets are over you, and a constant nagging in the back of your mind...that feeling you get when you were right in the middle of doing something and you can't remember what it was. Something is just wrong. I don't know if I'll ever be truly happy again, because underneath it all, there will always be this ache. There will always be a hole...someone always missing, a piece of our family puzzle...it will never feel quite right again.

But as much as you don't want it to, the sun keeps rising, and life continues on, and you have no choice but to keep getting up each morning and forging through. Please don't tell me I am strong...I am not, I just don't have a choice in the matter. If I had a choice, Gavin would be here with me and to heck with "the plan" and everything else. Do not underestimate how quickly I would pass this trial on to *anyone* else, if it meant having Gavin back again. But I don't have that choice. The only choice I have is what I will do with this trial now that is it mine to bear. I just hope that eventually I can use it to do something good.

Gavin's gift to us was his life, and I know eventually I'll be able to find other gifts in this, too. I don't want his life to be for nothing. Don't get me wrong, I'd much rather he had lived and because of his experiences had grown up to be an amazing doctor and saved millions of lives or something. In fact, I'd rather he simply grew up, even if he did nothing particularly amazing and our lives just went back to normal and no one ever heard from us again, or even cared to, and nothing else special came from our experience this year except that now we were together and happy and whole. But again, I didn't get a choice in the matter. So now all I can do is try to somehow move through this and be a person worthy of my sweet, perfect little boy.