Settling In to the New Normal

Everyone talks about this "new normal" thing surrounding the loss of a loved one.  Nothing can ever be the same after they are gone.  As time passes the wound does begin to heal and the raw pain of the initial seperation does get less intense.  Although you may be bulldozed out of no where with a load of intense feelings it's not an everyday, minute by minute occurence that makes every day feel like a million years. 

I'm beginning to experience life again and it's nothing like I've ever experienced prior to her dying. It's easy to go through life always waiting for the next big thing.  Focused on days, weeks or months from now instead of enjoying the moment.  Instead of really being in "it", whatever "it" might be.  This was really hard for me to do as I was watching her die.  I wanted to be anywhere but in those moments.  It sounds horrible, but it's true.  I didn't want to be in the moment where her little body was falling a part before our very eyes and everyday seemed like it could be her last.  I didn't want to watch her pain and suffering, grieving her own life as it was being taken from slowly but surely.  I mean, a huge part of me knew I HAD to be with her, there was no other choice for me, I would NOT not be there when she took her last breathe.  But I had a really difficult time just being in the moment with her.  Savoring every last conversation, every last touch, every last act of service to help her be more comfortable.  The regrets that torture me come from wishing I could run away almost every second I had to watch her suffer and be powerless to do anything about it.

We weren't real touchy feely in our relationship over the years.  We both had lived our lives pretty gaurded and physical touch was uncomfortable for us.  We never curled up in each others arms or held hands or played with each others hair like some sisters do.  We talked, all the time we talked.  And we loved each other deeply.  But I wish I had touched her more, especially at the end.  I regret not curling up in bed with her every chance I got, savoring every last second we had together.  I wish I had had the guts to do that now, now that the moments are gone forever.

 She didn't want to talk about the fact that she wasn't getting better.  She just wanted us to live life around her with hope.  She bought a wall hanging that read "We Must Choose Hope Over Fear" about two weeks before she died. It's hanging on my wall now.  I believe she is in the arms of  Jesus, experiencing His perfect love in it's purest form.  He is being the lovey, touchy feely sister I wish I had been to her for me. 

The new normal is continuing to unfold for me as the days have turned into months, almost 5 months now.  I am staying in the moment more than I have ever done before.  I am desiring life today, life to the fullest.  I want to let people in more and more and to be less afraid to reach out and show that perfect love to others.  I am practicing "Carpe Diem", ceasing the day, living life with as few regrets as possible and trying to enjoy every moment with the people God has blessed me with. It's harder to hold a grudge, harder to push people away and harder to not extend grace to those in my life who aren't perfect when I think about how I would feel if I lost them.