Yesterday was one of those days.
It’s really hot where I live right now, and we lost 2 of our adorable baby chicks in the heat. I had left them outside in the shade, but the shade moved before I knew it and they overheat quickly, so I blamed myself for being busy and distracted and not catching it earlier.
We tried saving one for over an hour, calling 3 vets, and hearing the same thing I knew in my heart, that it might be too late. It was.
It didn’t matter how sorry I was or how bad I felt. It was too little, too late and it could never be fixed. I held the little thing as it took it’s last breath, and then had to pretend everything was OK so I could drive one of my kids to a dress rehearsal.
That’s when it hit me.
All of the grief of the last year felt like an empty ache in my chest. The dying little chick added to the list of things in life that could never be fixed: a Grandmother’s undiagnosed broken bone that could never heal, a marriage neglected until it was too far gone to save.
Before I could even back the car up, I realized that at any time, I could drop all of the balls I was juggling~ trying to manage 3 jobs and my family on no sleep, and trying to hold my children’s lives together while trying to figure out my own future~ and that even if I dropped them, more would keep coming and pummeling me.
The dam broke and I cried.
I never cry. Well, very rarely, and it’s usually only if a baby has died. But I sat there and cried and started writing in a bent up old notebook.
I thought about my beloved Grandmother and how I couldn’t fix the fact that she had to suffer a drawn out and painful death. I thought about my children and their father leaving and the marriage that spanned my entire adult life being over, and that I wasn’t going to able to fix that either.
And so I was late again, this time to pick up my child and I was wearing sunglasses because I didn't want her to see my red swollen eyes.
On the way home, I told her the chick had died, and she processed it in silence, but I could feel her thinking about the reality of it. When we arrived, I found the other chick who had been doing badly earlier had also died.
There was no avoiding my children seeing my crying this time. As we buried the chicks in a garden side grave with flower seeds and colorful crystals, I cried out of guilt about the chicks, and sadness and overwhelm about everything else. I cried harder than I did at my Grandmother's funeral where I had to be the officiant and hold it together and help my mother.
I cried because no matter what happens, even when someone dies, the world just keeps on going.
That's where the positive part finally came.
We talked about how life can be hard sometimes, and that sometimes you just can’t fix things. We talked about needing to feel sad, and to cry and how you need to be alone sometimes or to be with people who love you other times, and how to know the difference. We talked about mistakes and how everyone makes them, but that some accidents will have repercussions we live with forever.
I debated about whether or not to post this because it felt all downer like and not so zesty. But in the end, I decided to go for it anyway. Not just because I didn’t have a happy post handy, but because it’s real. The sad days, the funerals and the mistakes are just as real as the tea and the conversations.
And I posted it because when you're in the midst of the sad days and all you see is smiling perky people on the internet, you might just want to punch someone in the head.
In the end, it's the ability to have those conversations and those people who love us enough to make tea~ those are the the things that get us through the sucky times until we’re feeling zesty again. They are what makes life wonderful, even if certain times aren't, and I feel a bit lighter just thinking about them.
Hopefully, you are all having better days than I was yesterday, but even if you aren't, I hope you can see the things that make life sparkle anyway.
What do you do when you're not feeling so zesty? Any tips on dealing with sad times while trying to keep a happy home?