This Will Be Hard

After my first post here I was feeling pretty confident in my ability to find good news throughout the day. I can do this. I can find good news, evidence of His love, all around me.

And I did. I was blessed with a conversation with a good friend who happened to also have a good, encouraging conversation with my mother-in-law.

Exciting plans are coming together for the banquet I’m in the throes of planning, including multiple commitments for sponsorships that will put us well over our sponsorship goal for this event.

All good things, good news.

However, on my way home from work it was all overshadowed by an unfortunate event. I called my husband as I usually do. We did not talk as long as we usually do on my drive home because he needed to practice for his gig tomorrow night. I’m not sure what happened when we hung up, but somehow I accidentally hit my father-in-law’s name on my favorites list and the phone began to ring. I immediately pressed end, on the verge of tears and wishing that hadn’t happened. Nothing I couldn’t move past, yet it still felt like a punch in the gut.

Even though my father-in-law’s phone was turned off shortly after he passed, I can’t bring myself to delete his name from my phone. It feels so final. I was with him (along with the rest of our family) in his final hours and moments on this earth, but somehow deleting his name from my phone feels even more final.

So when I received a text asking “Who’s this?” from his name I felt like all time stood still. You just don’t expect to receive a text from the name of a deceased loved one, even if it is from the owner of their new number.

Wanting to be my polite self I opened my phone (at a red light, no worries) to type, “I’m sorry. Wrong number.” And then I saw the pictures. The pictures I took of my child specifically to send to my father-in-law in his last week to cheer him up. The pictures I took and sent to him so he wouldn’t feel like he was missing any part of our lives. And I lost my mind. Absolute breakdown. In the middle of the intersection, on the interstate, the entire 25 minute drive home. Again when I walked into the house and told my husband how I had accidentally called his dad.

Finding good news throughout the day may be challenging, yes. Keeping the good news, however, will be the real challenge. How do I not let this one incident overshadow all of the good news I was able to find today? How do I just move on and stop breaking down?

My only answer here is I just do. I just go on because I just have to.

In my case today, I was acutely aware of my self-challenge to find good news. Not that a good break down isn’t good for the soul, but one has to move on.

I had a lovely date night (and a ridiculous amount of chips and salsa) with my husband at one of my favorite Mexican restaurants.

I got to hold my sleepy headed son for a few moments before he went to bed tonight.

I was able to order and pay for my groceries that I will pick up tomorrow (thank you, ClickList).

And just like that, good news was ever so slightly beginning to overshadow the bad news again.

Maybe that’s how this grief thing will work. Like a moon waxing and waning. Some days, some moments will be tough and will overshadow any good news I thought you had. I think we have to hold on to the other days though. The days where good news is found all around us and while the crescent moon of our grief is still visible, still present, it is not what guides our path.