Moving forward is hard. Moving forward means letting go of what was. It means to travel into the unknown. It is to be out of control of the situation. Moving forward is hard.
I have a difficult time looking at the stuff that people have collected and sent to us (sent to our families and friends for us). It's a reminder of all that was lost.... and SO MUCH was lost. The biggest thing lost? Our way of life as I (we) knew it. It's almost the loss of an identity, and as such, I float through the motions, but don't really have a sense of who I am, or of where I belong.
Home is supposed to be where your heart is, and where your heart is, is home. In that sense, I currently have the biggest and most amazing home ever. However, regardless of the loving warmth and happiness of it, it's not my home. I'm only borrowing it. I'm living in someone else's heart, and while I'm forever grateful for being able to share in that amazing place, it's not mine, and it's not forever.
I'm afraid to move forward. I'm afraid to forget all that we had in our home. I'm afraid to forget the amazing memories there. I'm afraid to let them go. Yes, I know that those memories will live on forever in my mind and in my heart, but moving forward means that they will live ONLY there. I won't be able to look at something, and instantly be taken back to a time and place. Moving forward is not looking back.
I'm afraid to move forward. I'm afraid that all of the emotions that I've been suppressing for the past three weeks -the past few years -for my entire life will come bubbling to the surface and never stop flowing. I'm afraid of the grief that's even bigger than I am will swallow me whole. I'm afraid that if all that bursts through my not-so-cool-exterior, that I may never be the same.
I am afraid of the unknown. I am afraid to be out of control. I am afraid to forget. I am afraid to remember.
I am afraid.
Moving forward is hard.