I woke up feeling good. I went for a long walk. On my walk I felt peaceful. I talked with Shayna, communed with God. It was all good. I came back and journaled about how much faith I have and my trust in God and my trust this is all part of the plan. Yeah. I can do this I thought.
Then I got in the shower and just sobbed again. I told God again that He had made a mistake. I was so confused. “How am I supposed to feel?” I asked. Am I supposed to be at peace with knowing Shayna is in a better place, safe from harm, whole, at peace and patiently waiting for us? Or am I supposed to feel the turmoil, the despair the sense of longing I get when I realize I will not see her sweet face or hear her gentle voice again? I cried out of frustration this time.
We went to church where I cried some more in the cover of darkness that is Crossroads Mason. Ty had a visit with a friend and they wen to the pool for a few hours. I was looking forward to some solitude. Just chilling on the couch watching a little of the British Open or watching some mindless TV. That is the perfect Sunday afternoon for me. But, the British Open just wasn’t holding my attention. The mindless TV wasn’t either. I found myself on Facebook waiting for someone to post something- anything. I was reading my book on my Kindle. I was listening to Podcasts. Nothing was holding my attention. Nothing was interesting. I decided to go to Costco by myself. As I walked the aisles alone thoughts turned to how we would have to change our shopping habits. Shayna was always asking for everything in Costco. Shayna was on my mind as always. I teared up on the way out of the door hiding my tears behind my sunglasses.
I will spare you the boring details of the rest of the day but it was full of more tears. To top it off, people kept telling us how much Shayna’s death has upset them. They can’t think of her or us without crying. They are worried about their kids. Their kids are dropping out of activities because they are depressed. What? I thought Shayna’s death was supposed to serve some purpose. I know it sucks for me, but it’s supposed to inspire other people or something. I know Shayna’s life was amazing. It inspired many. It inspired me. She taught many. She taught me. But, her death. I just don’t get it.
By the time it was time to turn in I was just spent. The day that had started with such promise had fallen completely apart. The progress towards acceptance seemed to be only an illusion. I fell asleep missing her with all of my being.
