Survivors guilt

Spring has worked its way through my body, as Summer begins to settle into my bones. 

It calls to me, begging and pleading for honoring the state of things. 
A heart heavy, asking to be held a bit more softly, and for just a little bit longer. 

A soul asking for answers I have none to give, 

My body craves support, rest and more than anything to be listened to. 

The grief is nestled into my muscles, causing them to feel slow and heavy some days. 

We're creeping upon the Anniversary.

the final weeks and days from it, and it has begun to shine a light on why my muscle memory is hitting even harder. The space that hospice created inside of me, is something that will never leave my bones, I’m accepting that. Why it felt so cathartic, and why it still does. Around this time of year is exactly when I begun to accept the reality of things. The hope for "best case" began to dissolve. The shock of "Oh, she's really not getting better, is she."

My memory is not something I hold as a reliable source for recollection, but if you ask me to walk through that building with my eyes closed and to recall the detail, I can. The days, the meals, the corners of snacks, the couches and fireplace that offered comfort. The old man down the hall who kept his door open, and tv a little too loud. The walking path outside around the property, and the parking lot where we went to get air, and escape as often as possible. 

The guilt that held in my chest each time I left, and especially when I left before she passed.

 "Survivors guilt" they call it. I call it my cowardice. 

The weight of the guilt of not staying all the way through, haunts me and I know it always will. I never regretted anything else with her. I soaked up every moment I was ever offered, planned my months around it often.  I honored her sisterhood every single moment of every single day. I just wish I could have been brave enough to hold her hand all the way to her last moment. I sought my own comfort of leaving, over facing the hardest thing of my life. Do I have the capacity to spend this next season offering myself forgiveness for this?

A mirror can often times be the hardest thing to face.

 But as I allow myself to crack open even more, to dissolve into it entirely. 

I let go of the need to have control over this. 

💕💕

To surrender again and again to the ocean of pain and the ocean of love. 

Two oceans together, forever.