Happy Anniversary Heartache
The youngest addition of my family turned one last week, right about the time I moved back to Oregon. This day marks the one year anniversary of her birth, which was a frightfully early and dangerous one involving copious bleeding by my sister and a fear we’d lose them both. It also marks the beginning of a year full of heartache, a year that changed me and my family in ways I have yet to begin to understand.
A month later my brother got diagnosed with cancer and then a month after that my grandmother had a stroke and I stayed with her in the hospital until she died ten days later. My year was spent taking care of my family and not of myself. While it felt like I was dealing with everything at that time, I know I actually dealt with nothing. I was like a doctor in a war zone, triaging the issues as they came to me and pasting the gaping holes in my heart together with super glue.
One of my best friends always tells me “be strong, and by that I mean fall apart whenever you need to.” I’ve stood strong this past year, carrying my heartache like a heavy burden, unwilling to let it show for fear of falling apart. But it’s been a year and it’s time to fall apart. It’s time to build a nest and find support again. It’s time to heal.
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