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Forest Sunrays

Today Is Every Day



Today is a day. It's a day that is different from any day we are used to experiencing; one where people from across the globe are coming together to fight an invisible force. It's a day where 24 hours slowly (quickly) pass before our eyes. Our lungs continue to breathe in oxygen as we pray that the virus does not enter it's way into our path. Today is a day. It's a day where I am choosing to be completely transparent and vulnerable. I do my best to be so with everything I do. I'm not a good liar and I don't do BS. I used to say that was my motto. How silly that sounds when combined with a million letters to try and explain the hard things. I work to protect my loved ones while still sharing my own personal experiences and my heart. Today is a day in the middle of days upon days where I have been truly struggling. It's been two years and five months since I lost my boys. People expect it to be better. They expect time to evolve grief. They expect time to evolve the griever. Let me scream from the molecules that flow through my bloodstream that time does not make it better; not for a grieving parent. Oh, I have evolved. I have come to understand life and death and grief and heartache like no one can comprehend unless you have buried a child. I have buried two children. Two living breathing parts of myself walked around on this earth for 18 plus years and filled my life with molecules of love. Those parts of me are dead. The molecules inside me are dead. There is no replacing them. Those spaces are black and shriveled up and light does not live there. A few days ago, a friend of mine said to me that she was so happy to see me smile and be at peace. I felt like laughing hysterically. I had bawled my eyes out in the car on the way to work that day. I have been holding onto strength by a strand of broken-end covered hair and this past week that strand stripped itself bare and evaporated into a puff of nothingness. Today is a day at the end of a week where I found out about betrayal and deceit when an extended family member emailed me to tell me of something she had done. She informed me that shortly after the crash she sought out the man who killed the boys and has been communicating with him regularly ever since. This means that when I walked into that courtroom last June, he believed he had been speaking to someone close to me. He had been privy this entire time to my inner circle. She did this under the guise of "being led to bring him to Christ". Now let me be clear, I am not going to try and determine what someone is or is not led to do. However, she used me to buy her way into the door with him and I am beyond devastated. She took it upon herself to try and be a mediator between him and me. In her email she spoke of her "calling" and that she's telling me now because she feels like it might be the right time. Why? Because two years is the right time to tell someone that you have been deceiving them since the beginning or because she saw me awhile back and I seemed happy? What a joke. Let me repeat: I have been holding onto strength by a strand of broken-end covered hair and this past week that strand stripped itself bare and evaporated into a puff of nothingness. I do not have anything left. I am empty. I have been walking around this week trying to camouflage myself in smiles and makeup and the facade of keeping my shit together. I am done. I am done pretending it is okay when someone deceives or tries to use me to accomplish their own agendas. I am done pretending that I'm keeping my shit together. I am not ever going to pretend it's okay when those I love do not protect me. I am stripping myself of the camouflage. This week I have been reminded that those who cannot comprehend this level of grief have the belief that enough time has passed and that I should be better. I know some wish I would move on or make this pain of mine easier for them to look at... to make it pretty. I know some wish I would layer on that camouflage. Too bad. Today is a day. It's a day that is the same as any day we are used to experiencing; one where people from across the globe are coming together to fight an invisible force. It's a day where 24 hours slowly (quickly) pass before our eyes. Our lungs continue to breathe in oxygen as we pray that the virus does not enter it's way into our path. It is too late for some of us. We are grieving parents and death has us fully in its grasp.


Much Love,


The Graceseeker


Comments:


Leslee Usimaki

3/15/2020 07:05:13 am

Wow! That was an incredibly selfish and crappy thing to do to you. I CAN ONLY IMAGINE THE RAGE BURNING IN YOUR SOUL. I’m sorry for the added torture. My words can not ease your pain so I will just send a cyber (((HUG))) to let you know you are being heard and you are not alone (though I’m sure you feel that way most of the time). Do you. Whatever that is, YOU are enough, to be measured by no one but YOU. This is YOUR journey......... carry on as you choose.


3/15/2020 08:43:19 pm

Oh Crystal this absolutely breaks my heart: I can’t even imagine how betrayed you must feel. But what I can say is that you are by far one of the most amazing and strongest women that I have ever met and I applaud u for always handling every situation that’s thrown at you with such grace. Stay strong pretty girl. Xo


Shallan

5/16/2020 08:17:29 am

“Too bad.” Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. 🙏🏼 Have more I want to comment, but need some time. Thinking of you, the strand of broken-ended covered hair, and the puff of nothingness, quite vividly. 💔



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