There comes a point after a loss that we realize we were not actually moving forward from it. We have gone through the motions because we knew we “should,” but don’t realize we have no sense of making any forward progress. It is sort of like walking on a treadmill or riding a stationary bike.
We are in motion, yet without forward movement beyond that point.
There may be glimpses of feeling like we are moving forward, but it isn’t until one relatively nondescript day in our lives that we realize that we just may have actually moved somewhere.
Today, it feels like I got off the treadmill and hit the sidewalk.
Since Duke’s death, I have moved forward each day because there is a mission and a reason to do so. That mostly applied to work stuff, however. I still felt lost on the home front, despite the presence of Ruby and a lot of social support.
I wanted to start creating memories with just Ruby and I, but it seemed like that, and knowing Duke would not like my reservations about it, just wasn’t enough to gain momentum to actually do it.
Yes, we have done things together here and there, but always with the ghosts of Amore and Duke overshadowing the experience in my heart. And what Ruby and I would do were things that I had already done with the boys, so it was never just she and I.
None of this occurred to me at all. It didn’t until I was getting ready to go to the Art Harvest at the park with Ruby. In fact, it never occurred to me that Duke nor Amore ever went to this particular annual event in their lifetime until Ruby and I parked the car.
It’s not much, but it’s something that feels better than being stuck in the loss.
Day Seven of