Today I Get Out of Bed

It has been a year an a half since my son died. A single moment. A snowstorm. A tractor-trailer. 

We wake up every day, get out of bed, put our pants on and step out into this vast unknown. We assume that the end of the day will see us safely home again, tucked into our beds. For many, that is not the way the day ends. For those left behind, it is a phone call,  a knock on the door, and the fabric of our worlds is ripped asunder.

I am broken. My reality forever changed. My heart hurts. I cry. Often. I do not have the words to express the depth and breadth of the pain I feel every day. My boy is not coming home.

I wake up in the morning and remind myself "Zac is dead." Over and over I tell myself "Zac is not coming home.  Not today. Not ever."

I cry silent tears.

I cry great racking sobs that shake my whole body. 

I sit alone, silent in a crowd.  I don't reach for people. I don't make small talk. I wrap my arms around my belly and rock, reminding myself to breath.

In through the nose.

Out through the mouth.

This is what my grief looks like.

A pain so deep you can't fathom the darkness. 

This is my reality. Every day.

And yet...

Every day...

I get out of bed.

I function. I brush my teeth and put on pants. I go to work. I drive past the spot he died. Every day.

I get out of bed.

I hold my children, talk to them and listen to their stories.  I cheer for them at baseball games. I laugh at their jokes. I play with them and eat ice cream with them.

I get out of bed.

I climb mountains.  I kiss pirates. I go out dancing.  I drink margaritas. 

I get out of bed. 

I walk in the ocean. I watch the sun rise. I pet the dog. I feed the birds.

I get out of bed.

In the midst of the worst pain imaginable,  I get out of bed and live. I show up, have the hard talks, love with an open heart. I see people, hear them, love them and forgive them.

I get out of bed and live. I dive deep, explore my wounds, make connections, speak my truth, go on adventures.

Life is fragile and fleeting. It makes us no promises, offers us no guarantees. My promise... I will not take these moments for granted. I will not lie in bed and feel sorry for myself. I will not let life and love and joy pass me by.

I will get out of bed and I will live every moment.