It's always a great feeling when your Saturday gets off on the wrong foot, but you somehow manage to get it back.
Nothing a little BodyFlow class, some grocery shopping, organizing, and a good-for-you lunch can't cure. And now I'm here. Thinking about feeling good and just how good that feels.
A few weeks ago, a friend of mine asked how I knew I needed to write. Why I would choose to write instead of talk. Because often the things I write here, don't always make it out of my mouth first. Sometimes what I write doesn't make it out of my mouth at all.
So I thought I'd share my response to her (with a bit of editing), about why, on a beautifully mild Saturday afternoon in February, I would choose to sit up here in this sweet little nursery and write.
Why do I write? For a few reasons, I think.
I've always tried to keep a journal, but never had anything I was passionate enough about to keep it up. So when Ryan died, and I was pretty messed up inside (and out), I knew I needed to do something about it. I was very reluctant about therapy, so I started keeping a journal. I was uncomfortable with the idea that my feelings would be judged by someone who had never walked in my shoes. Journalling felt really good. I was able to express myself without fear of judgement.
So then I did the Gratitude Challenge on Instagram in November, after an aunt commented on how she admired my attempts to find grace in this horrible moment in my life. I loved sharing those posts in November. Taking time to think about, not only Ryan, but the life left here for me. When November ended, I felt kind of lost without being able to put my feelings out there.
As much as I love writing for me, and maybe other moms out there like me, it really makes a bridge for other people to talk to me about Ryan. And I don't know how I'd function without the knowledge that people still think and care about him, and us.
So I know, that maybe for some, this is too much. Maybe it's too hard to read. Maybe it's uninteresting. Maybe it seems like I'm living in a hole and I'm not handling my grief all that well.
To these people I just shrug and say, oh well. I don't have a baby to spend my days with. But I do have one who I feel drawn to give some time to every day. Read this or don't. I'm going to write it anyway.
And just so you know, whether you like it or not, it's working for me.
Every day I feel stronger and more capable. Maybe I'd feel that way without sharing it all every day, but I don't plan to find out any time soon.
As far as I can see, I'll always be spending a part of my Saturdays here. With Ryan.