Imagine taking all your emotions – everything you could possibly feel and putting them in a blender.
That’s the way I feel.
I can not even believe it has been 100 days since I lost my beautiful son. It is a crazy mixed up world we live in and I struggle daily trying to find my fit in it – the commitments, the want to’s, the things I say “Yeah! I want to do that!” when the old me peaks out for a second and then later I am horrified that I agreed to do something that I know is too much for me to take on.
I am up. I am down.
I am mostly down.
After my last post about my friend Connie my emotional gauge has been off the charts. I do what I need to do to get through the day. I make the connections I need to and when the day is done I am home, exhausted physically and emotionally, a bundle of mixed feelings – glad I accomplished something… overwhelming sadness lying just under the surface, tired… so tired.
Connie, as of this morning is the same. I will stop by this morning and check on her. Yesterday we ran the Color Run for Justin. is team that he started working on in March. We finished it and 21 of us ran the 5k in Justins memory. As you can imagine it was an amazing and horrible thing all rolled into one. I am so thankful for his friends and mine, so glad that they pushed on to do this – and so sad knowing Justin would have been amazed at the friends who gathered to run for him. Ridiculous is the word that comes to mind… it is ridiculous that I am typing such a thing and he is gone.
and then last night…. a big storm hit Minnesota:
I love this tree. I have a sweet pic of the boys climbing up in it when they were young. I think we can save part of it and I hope it will grow back again.
Still here.
Book Journey 
Glad you enjoyed the run! It was a great tribute to Justin that so many people participated in honor of him! Sorry about the tree.
I know what you mean about the overwhelming sadness just below the surface, hiding behind a smile, and I pray things get easier soon…for us both, and Lori.
The Color Run by all of Justin’s friends and family is a wonderful tribute.
I cannot even imagine how sad you are, Sheila. I think every day you get up and accomplish anything is something to be proud of. I know Justin is rooting for you.
I hope that each day offers a little more peace…the tribute run is a great event to savor, and while your memories are bittersweet, they do offer some joy, too. Thanks for sharing.
The run sounds like a wonderful way to honor your son’s memory. I’m glad so many of your friends turned out to support you.
You are amazing…just letting you know that I am still out here…
Sheila, my Blog friend Julie wrote this. I keep coming back to it, thinking of you and hoping for peace for you.
We preach – and pray
We teach – and pray
We seek answers – and pray
We offer hope – and pray
We talk and walk – and pray
We live and love – and pray
We remember and we forget – and pray
We breathe – and pray
We sleep – and pray
We eat and drink – and pray
Whatever we do
wherever we go
whoever we are
WE PRAY
O God – hear us
I pray
Amen
LOVE this…
Oh no…the tree…and everything…so sad…so sorry…I would be outside crying…I know I would…it’s a lot to bear…
Did I spell bear correctly? It does not look right?
Always keeping you in my thoughts and prayers. Something about that tree and symbolism of your grief. Broken but hopefully still growing and alive. Your boy is an inspiration to many and you’ll have no idea how vast his reach is – until you meet him again. Take care.
Kay thank you – that is a powerful thought I had not considered.
That is a powerful thought and so fitting. For you I continue feeling the joy that was the beauty of Justin, and the sadness that is your grief—bittersweet always oxox
Still sending prayers up for you whenever I see your name pop up on Facebook or in my blog reader feed.
Sending prayers every day for you. I don’t know how you do what you do, but I know Justin would be happy you are trying to do things every day.
HUGS.
Elizabeth
Oh my… 100 of the longest days of your inside-out life. So unimaginable, yet there it is. You still go on trying to find the new tracks of your life. Sometimes it is hectec, frantic and sometimes it stops so slow all you can hear is your broken heart beating. We are here for you as are the wonderful group of friends and family near you. All in your own time. All at your own pace. Hugs to you always.
I’ve not been reading my rss feed recently; I follow 64 rss feeds. Yours has always been one of my favorites. This afternoon I switched on Newsblur to find hundreds of posts waiting for me to peruse. I always seek out “Book Journey” before browsing through others on my list. I want to know how you’re going. You signed off your latest meanderings with the words: “still here”. You are a brave woman, and I am so pleased you are using your blog to keep your feet on the ground. I’m “still here” too, listening and caring, knowing your approach to your grief is exemplary. Sending you a big hug from me.
Your post was wonderfully written. I wish you all the very best in these difficult times. x
Hugs to you, my friend.
I know how difficult your life is right now. How can it not be? 100 days seems like an eternity when your feelings are so raw, and you are missing him so much. Like the rest of us who have lost a child, you are learning to live with your loss. The hole left in your family is unfathomable. But you, my friend, have shown phenomenal strength. Every time you push yourself to do something is a step forward, but remember those very healing steps are also exhausting. Take care of yourself. Do as much as you can, but don’t overdo. Always remember when life seems impossibly difficult, and the pain wells up throughout your whole being, I am here, along with many others, holding you close to my heart, wrapping my arms around you with healing hugs, and sending you strength. Love and hugs.
Sheila, I haven’t been blogging much this summer but you are in my thoughts, and I read as many of your posts as I can. The run sounds like a wonderful tribute to Justin. You do so much for others even though you are grieving. Your strength is amazing, but know that you can lean on others for support, as needed, including me.
I’m here rooting for you, too, Sheila. Every time I read one of your posts or see a Facebook update, I just want to reach out and hug you. Sending you love and energy and peace and anything else you need.