Surprises...

Some of the numerous things that have surprised me over this past year...

1.  Ben wants more.  I mean that's not that surprising is it?  Until you hear what he wants more of...It was Ben who mentioned on January 25th that he felt we had NOT done enough to honor Ellie during the 13 days.  Which is ironic because the whole time I was concerned that Ben would feel jealous if we made too too much of a fuss.  Guess I erred on the opposite end of that continuum.  We talked about what we could do the next day, Ellie's birthday, to honor her.  I explained how Ellie had this joke when anyone would say, "Have a nice day!"  She would respond by saying, "It's too late."  Pause Pause.  "I already am."  So when Ben boarded the bus on Ellie's birthday, Thom automatically said, "Have a nice day."  Ben yelled back, "It's too late!"

2.  Feeling Oscar-ish.  Grief often presents itself as grumpiness ("Oscar-ish" Ellie would have said, after the grumpiest of them all, Oscar the Grouch).  It's not necessarily the falling down on the bed sobbing kind of thing you would anticipate and see in movies, but rather a lashing out at whomever happens to be nearby.

 

Happy with her books.

3.  Quiet voices.  The soft spoken, whispery messages have been another surprise to me.  At times, I will think a thought and have the distinct feeling that this thought is one from Ellie (an elliought or a thellie?).  Again not dramatic like I would have predicted.  It doesn't occur as a big bolt of lightening, followed by the crash of thunder, but instead it is quiet, I have to stop to be able to hear.

Recently, I was pondering how now there are activities we do as a family that we would not be doing if Ellie were alive.  It feels wange.  Almost as if I traded Ellie in for this new found freedom, a trade I would never willingly agree to.  Suddenly the thought came that we were BOTH holding each other back--that Ellie was ready to go and that it was time for our family to do some of those other activities.

Around Christmas time, I was lying in bed with Lotta, missing Ellie.  When suddenly I had another Ellie thought, "But I waited till Lotta was born to leave."  That was one of the many great gifts from Ellie, to wait until we had a Lotta Joy in our lives for her to make her exit.  The gift from Ben has been how much he adores this little package.

4.  The continual loop of grief to laughter and back again....This week, Lotta and I traversed to Willy Street Co-op. I was feeling tired and grumpy and out of sorts.   For some reason, grocery stores seem to elicit this response from me.  The check out area is really close to where Ellie and I used to sit and watch the clouds on our dates while we had a snack.  I felt myself near to tears, imagined myself just having a good wail right there in the

[caption id="attachment_4517" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Another favorite--bubble wrap!"][/caption]

check-out lane, but instead held it together. Then as we walked to our car, I saw the firestation next door and suddenly thought of telling Lotta, "We used to have them (meaning the firefighters) over all the time." (Remember when we had to keep calling 911 to come pick Ellie up when we couldn't get her to wake up?)  This thought seemed so incredibly absurd to me, made me laugh in spite of myself.

5.  We're rich!!!  It can seem so utterly surprising at times that life keeps happening, regardless.  My blog is such an example of this--one blog about my grief, another blog about the silly things Ben and Lotta are up to, another about an Ellie memory.  It is all happening NOW, all the ups and downs and in betweens.  Even boredom, which doesn't even seem like it should be ALLOWED when you realize that death is a reality for all of us (is this not a big part of grief becoming friends with THIS inevitability?).  The laughter and joys are that much richer now because the contrast of the despair is there.  I feel myself at times, slowly, reaching for the otherside of this grief.  Thank you, Ellie.