Out of the darkness

I have to admit while Spring fever is here and many are enjoying warm, sunny, beaches, I have been struggling to find my way out of what seems like a deep, dark hole where not even the thought of warmer weather could touch my now cold soul.  Surviving has been done by the very basics of trying to pull first one foot out from under the covers and then the other to get out of bed each morning; thinking about deep breaths so that they happen and trying to keep at bay the flooding thoughts of bereavement that come because they are a burden simply too hard to bear right now.  It was that way, in this darkness, for six days.  I counted.  On the seventh day, I awoke with an idea although not sure why.  But that got me out of bed and I actually showered, washed my hair, flossed and brushed my teeth, looked at myself in the mirror and at what I had pulled from the closet to wear that day.  From there, I made more positive steps including actually leaving the house.  I met one of my closest friends downtown for lunch and the conversation flowed positively and with reality.  As I left, I walked out of the Marriott on Maryland Avenue to the parking garage and shining sun caught my attention as did what seemed like crisp, clearer weather.  But what perked my interest most were the large snowflakes falling all around me.  I tilted my head towards the sky so that the snowflakes could touch my face, then melt and soak into my skin while still leaving their touch similar to real pecks on your cheeks.  I found this snow falling, in this season, like an introduction to another state of bewilderment aside from what I had experienced in the darkness all the days prior.  And the snow flurries continued as I left downtown and drove twenty minutes to the Sam’s Watch office.  The rest of the day I had a level of energy that allowed me to be what I considered productive and in the evening, when I laid my head on my pillow, my lasting thought as I drifted off to sleep was “whew, so glad to be out of that darkness.”  Then I woke up the next morning.  In a dark place.  It was back to the basics trying to pull first one foot and then the other out from under the covers and finally making it out of bed.  I made it as far as a curled up spot on the living room couch where I stayed the next two days with only fleeting thoughts of leaving the house but knowing, one day, I’ll again step out of the darkness.  And come into light.