The Laundry Epiphany

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A few weeks ago as I was doing laundry, I noticed that I had already done a few loads of dark laundry, and still had more to go. My first thought was "that's weird, I don't ever remember washing this many dark clothes before."

For whatever reason, this thought took me by surprise. It may seem obvious to some of you, because we have 7 people in our house now, so of course I would be doing more laundry. But that wasn't the realization. It was because most of Steve's laundry is dark - he prefers darker colors. And I realized that for some reason, I was surprised that it wasn't like Jeremy's. And my subconscious automatically went to "before" meaning before Jeremy died.

What's weird is that I rarely compare Steve to Jeremy. They have a lot of similar qualities - mostly the good ones - which is why I love them both so. But they are very different. Whenever those thoughts come in my head, I try to be gracious to myself and to Steve to remember that not only is he different, but so am I. But, I'm human and I love two men both at the same time so I'm not so naive to think that those thoughts wouldn't creep in once in awhile.

Jeremy didn't do it that way. What would he say in this situation? Steve handled this so much better than Jeremy would have. Jer would have handled this better. Jeremy would have known what do about this problem. Jeremy would remember this reference. Steve hasn't figured this part out yet. Jeremy never figured that out. I wish Steve and I could have share this memory, too. I wish Jeremy wasn't missing this.

The truth is, these kinds of thoughts can plague widow(er)s in new relationships. I can't speak for everyone, but I know that I'm ok with wrestling with these things. Maybe it's because I won't ever apologize for loving and continuing to love Jeremy. Maybe it's because I won't apologize for loving Steve as much. Maybe it's because Steve is great about talking through these things with me without feeling threatened. Either way, these fleeting thoughts remind me that I have lived two separate lives that continue to overlap in my heart. And that's ok.

Today, as I was folding laundry, I remembered that thought from a few weeks ago and smiled. The bottom line is that I miss doing laundry for Jeremy and grieved a weird, tiny piece of my life that maybe I hadn't before. And I smiled because I was thankful to be able to do laundry for Steve, whether it was dark, light, or pink and polka dotted (ok, that might not be so great!). It's ok that it looks different. It should. They're both equally important and meaningful. One does not negate the other.

Sometimes all it takes is a silly moment of folding the laundry to change your world.

What would you like to know?

You may not all realize this, but I've censored a lot of my life over the last twenty months. Sure, I've had soul bearing moments and gut-wretching realizations through my own writing, but I've always weighed a lot of what I've had on my heart. Some words too dangerous to mention, some too angry, some too personal - but never at the sacrifice of my own truth. Maybe watered down a little sometimes, but real. And the moment I realized that this blog wasn't just for me anymore, I was much more aware of how to real but also meaningful with whatever I said.

I say all that to say the same has also been true for my relationship with Steve. I realize that my blog is more focused on my grief - which is ongoing and still relevant - but I know there are a lot of people reading, in the same situation in life, or just curious about a lot of different things. And I recognize that at such a big transition in our lives, we would love to opportunity to share our story, our love, and what God has been doing in our lives in a way we haven't before.

SO....Steve and I would both like to open this blog up for questions, directed for either one of us. Honest questions, tough questions, questions about our family, our unique relationship, and/or questions about grief - I know there are a lot of them out there. The only questions I will not answer are distasteful ones that are meant to bash either of us. And we all learned a few weeks ago how my amazing husband will handle anything like that :)

If there's anything you'd like to know - here's your chance.

Ask away.

Catch 22

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This will be my last blog post as a single woman....Saturday, I will be becoming Mrs. Steve Cunningham! The reality is sinking in, and I am getting so excited! It's really been a crazy ride, and a quick one, so I haven't had much time to really let it process that this is MY wedding I'm planning, not someone else's - that and I haven't really let myself get too giddy about it.

It's weird that in the midst of all the craziness and planning my wedding with Steve how much it has made me miss Jeremy. Not because I'm not excited or because I'm not in a good place, but because he has always been the person I share everything with and I have been desperately aching to just share the ins and outs of life with him, the way I always used to. But, I recognize the irony in that and know that both of those things - my life circumstance and sharing it with Jer - could never happen at the same time.

While I'm experiencing the very weird mix of excitement and grief, I realize what a unique and frustrating place it has put me in. I find myself holding back happiness so I don't appear too excited about my wedding, because people then think it means I'm over Jeremy, that I'm done grieving, or I'm being disrespectful in some way. On the flip side, I worry that if I show my grief too strongly or talk about it too much, people accuse me of not being ready to get married or not being in a good place. It's my catch 22.

When I get down about this predicament, it helps to know that these assumptions generally come from those who don't know me well, have not talked to me about where I am at with things, or people who don't understand grief. I don't know a lot, but there are a few things I am certain of:

1. I miss Jeremy every single day.
2. I will miss Jeremy every single day for the rest of my life.
3. I am head-over-heels in love with Steve.
4. I am excited about my future with Steve and our beautiful family.
5. My happiness and my sadness run side by side. And neither negates the other.

So this week I have tried to intentionally not worry about what everyone else thinks and allow myself both time to grieve what I will no longer have with Jeremy and celebrate what I am going to have with Steve. I am trying to soak up every good moment of the beautiful chaos in my life right now, because Lord willing, I won't ever have to do it again.

What hurts the most

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The lyrics to the Rascal Flatts song were bouncing around in my head as I sat down to type out this post....

This past weekend, I spent some time in Canada visiting with Jeremy's family. I always look forward to spending my time with them, not only because I love them so much and they don't even know how incredible they are, but also because they keep me close to Jeremy. What I didn't expect was how emotional the trip would be for me. 

I grieved a lot this trip. Steve came with me and we were able to talk about wedding stuff and they allowed me time for my heart to be happy and share good news, but I still ached and I know they did too. It's hard to move forward without feeling like I'm letting pieces of my past go. I want to take it all with me.

I took Steve to Jer's grandparents house. He hadn't been there yet, so we went over for dinner. And suddenly, the hole felt bigger and the knot in my throat grew tighter - the entire time we were there. We had a lovely visit, but I walked around the house looking at all the pictures of Jeremy, wondering why this wave of grief was following me around. Then, we sat down to dinner and ate Jer's favorite dinner EVER (grandma's lasagna) and talked about all of the things he loved to eat at their house and I heard the heartbreak in grandma's voice as she told me she couldn't keep chocolate chip cookies in the cookie jar anymore, and I suddenly knew. I felt closest to Jeremy there at his grandparents house - it was one of his favorite places to be. We spent a week there every Christmas, we traveled there many times throughout the year, I had listened to countless recalled memories from Jer about growing up there, and I knew that such a big piece of his life and his heart were there. I hadn't spent a whole lot of time there since he died, so I guess I had never taken it all in. Even through their joy for Steve and me, I felt their heartache for their oldest grandson. My heart was so heavy for them. And I felt myself lose Jeremy all over again. I lost my future of making more memories with him in that house.

What hurt the most....was being so close...

So close to Jeremy I could almost see him. Standing in the door frame, sitting on the floor wrestling with the kids, sitting at the table licking the blueberry pie plate clean. I can feel him there in his pictures, like they were just taken yesterday. I heard him laughing, felt him breathing there. 

I realized that the places I feel Jeremy closest are also the places I grieve hardest. I felt similar when I took Steve to Jeremy's grave for the first time the following day. Knowing he's there is so overwhelming for me to face sometimes. Feeling close to Jeremy means so much to me, but it lingers for days and sits in my heart.

I know that so much of my day to day looks different than it did before Jeremy died. In a new house, driving a new car - they're not places that Jeremy touched or made a mark in so they don't have that affect on me. But when I go back to those places where I feel him most, something comes over me. 

I was thankful for the sweet man by my side who held my hand while I cried out and grieved the other man that I love. His tender heart held mine as he thanked me for sharing pieces of Jeremy with him, and understood that no matter how much I love him or am thankful for his presence in my life, sometimes.....this grief thing just really hurts.