The new normal.
While I'm sure it's oh so hilarious, this does NOT refer to the television show.
I've been searching for that lately. Online, various websites, magazines, internally. Normal is a relative term. What's normal to someone is totally against the grain for someone else. What is normal, however, for a grieving family. Is it the guilt a mother feels for failing to protect her child? Is the feeling an older brother got for being jealous, or thinking it's his fault for getting mommy upset, that his sister went to heaven? Is it the family pet, knowing that there's an emotional need in the family, tries to fill it by being by someone's side?
Perhaps it's the overwhelming feeling to fill and fulfill every waking moment of the ones left behind with memories and good times. For some, it's the random emotions striking you when you see a christmas ornament in a store. A song on the radio, which turns the faucet on of your eyes. Is it feeling your oats and going out with the guys for a testosterone filled night. It could be the simple moment of a group (Every 3rd Friday night) where you can be with like people, who've felt the pain you have. Where you aren't ashamed to cry, swear, get angry, joke, smile, and then feel completely drained.
Another new normal is the jealousy and sadness when you see a baby or find out someone is expecting. Sure, you're happy for them. There is that tiny little part wonders why they are allowed to, and you weren't. What did you do wrong? For some, the new normal is the natural questioning of faith and god. Why does He allow this, why was He mean? You wonder, will this get better? Does it every end.
There is no right or wrong for anyone. I've noticed some of my new 'normal' behaviors. During the week, when I start my ride towards work, I must listen to "Over you" By Miranda Lambert (Written by Blake Shelton) and "Remember When" by Alan Jackson. For my ride to work, it steels my resolve. When I stop, I look towards the heavens. I keep my daughters' prayer card in my truck at all times. I have my gray rubber bracelet engraved with her name on my right wrist. I think about those 2 days in the hospital, and that day at the cemetery at least once a day. I think about my wife, and her sadness. How I wish I could take her guilt away. I feel like I failed her and my kids. It was my job to protect, to nourish, to provide. I couldn't protect from the pain. Even providing is harder now, with this economy. It reminds me of my regrets and failures from the past.
I used to make horrible jokes, some perverted, some just plain bad. Now, I try. I might crack a few, but my hearts not into it. Most of my jokes are self deprecating. I get angry at myself easier, for failure or what I perceive is failure. I feel horrible that I burden people. I don't want to drag anyone down with my mood. I feel bad when I call my mom or grandmother, because I don't want them worrying about me.
Now, we on the 1st of every month, we go to the gravesite. We lay flowers down in memory. The first week of every month is rough. On the 6th, I still remember the burial. I remember every day. I swallow that lump in my throat every night. My eyes tear up, I sigh a big sigh, wipe my eyes and know life goes on. That it will get easier. No, I won't forget. This is just the new normal, at least for me.
I've been searching for that lately. Online, various websites, magazines, internally. Normal is a relative term. What's normal to someone is totally against the grain for someone else. What is normal, however, for a grieving family. Is it the guilt a mother feels for failing to protect her child? Is the feeling an older brother got for being jealous, or thinking it's his fault for getting mommy upset, that his sister went to heaven? Is it the family pet, knowing that there's an emotional need in the family, tries to fill it by being by someone's side?
Perhaps it's the overwhelming feeling to fill and fulfill every waking moment of the ones left behind with memories and good times. For some, it's the random emotions striking you when you see a christmas ornament in a store. A song on the radio, which turns the faucet on of your eyes. Is it feeling your oats and going out with the guys for a testosterone filled night. It could be the simple moment of a group (Every 3rd Friday night) where you can be with like people, who've felt the pain you have. Where you aren't ashamed to cry, swear, get angry, joke, smile, and then feel completely drained.
Another new normal is the jealousy and sadness when you see a baby or find out someone is expecting. Sure, you're happy for them. There is that tiny little part wonders why they are allowed to, and you weren't. What did you do wrong? For some, the new normal is the natural questioning of faith and god. Why does He allow this, why was He mean? You wonder, will this get better? Does it every end.
There is no right or wrong for anyone. I've noticed some of my new 'normal' behaviors. During the week, when I start my ride towards work, I must listen to "Over you" By Miranda Lambert (Written by Blake Shelton) and "Remember When" by Alan Jackson. For my ride to work, it steels my resolve. When I stop, I look towards the heavens. I keep my daughters' prayer card in my truck at all times. I have my gray rubber bracelet engraved with her name on my right wrist. I think about those 2 days in the hospital, and that day at the cemetery at least once a day. I think about my wife, and her sadness. How I wish I could take her guilt away. I feel like I failed her and my kids. It was my job to protect, to nourish, to provide. I couldn't protect from the pain. Even providing is harder now, with this economy. It reminds me of my regrets and failures from the past.
I used to make horrible jokes, some perverted, some just plain bad. Now, I try. I might crack a few, but my hearts not into it. Most of my jokes are self deprecating. I get angry at myself easier, for failure or what I perceive is failure. I feel horrible that I burden people. I don't want to drag anyone down with my mood. I feel bad when I call my mom or grandmother, because I don't want them worrying about me.
Now, we on the 1st of every month, we go to the gravesite. We lay flowers down in memory. The first week of every month is rough. On the 6th, I still remember the burial. I remember every day. I swallow that lump in my throat every night. My eyes tear up, I sigh a big sigh, wipe my eyes and know life goes on. That it will get easier. No, I won't forget. This is just the new normal, at least for me.
My new normal is stroking the bracelet with my goddaughter's name engraved on it before leaving my room in the morning. It sits on my nightstand. When I walk my daughter to the bus, I give her an extra hug because I know you won't be able to do that. I look to the heavens more often and know she's watching me. I get angry that I can't rock her to sleep like I did with my two amazing godsons and know the phone won't ring with her mommy saying, "come get this child to sleep". All these things I was looking forward to. I will never forget.
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