joining with Amber and Joy for The Marriage Letters
I don't want to write about loss. I don't want to describe losing our first pregnancy, losing my grandfather, losing dreams and hopes, losing friendships and relationships, losing hope and trust. Each of these things remind me how much of a battle life is. When I think about these times, I just want to cry. Crying is my coping mechanism. You are often solid and steady. Me? Most of the time I tell you I want to put the blankets over my head and wake up in a month or two.
I still have too many questions - questions that you listen to me hash out with you in the wee hours of the night. I still have too many frustrations - prayers that you hear me pour out to God, even in anger. I know you have questions and frustrations too during these times. But you handle them so differently. You are steady and even. I look at you and sometimes I get frustrated with your lack of ... well,
with your lack of being like me.
But I am also thankful that you are not like me in these times. I am thankful for your steadiness. I am thankful for the way you let me cry on your shoulder but also for the way you don't want me to just wallow. I am a wallow-er by nature, and you are not.
There is more loss ahead of us in this lifetime. This overwhelms me to really consider. And there is no great way to end this letter. Just hold my hand, babe. Help me remember during those times what we have already endured so that I am able to hang on and carry on despite the heartache.