Matt loved Super Bowl Sunday. It was a holiday for him. The food, drinks, gathering with friends and family, and of course, football. This year, I wasn't vested in the teams playing. I didn't care. So instead of having a party and making Matt's favorite foods, I decided not to do anything. I laid low. I relaxed. I felt good about my decision. Until bedtime. I crawled into bed and decided to watch the new episode of This Is Us. If you don't watch, you should. If you do, you can likely understand how trigger-filled that show is for me. During this particular episode, there were times I felt like I was watching myself on screen. I kept having to pause the TV and catch my breath as I was crying so hard. I also realized that by not doing anything was my way of avoiding a difficult day. I have never used avoidance as a way to try and cope the loss of Matt. I know how unsuccessful and damaging it is to try and avoid the grief that comes with his passing. As I laid in bed on Super Bowl Sunday, my emotions came pouring out of me. I realized, once again, how it is better to face my emotions than run from them. I realized how I should have handled the day. I saw that recognizing Matt in some way, could have made my evening just a little bit easier.
The sadness I experienced that night was so overwhelming. It was Super Bowl Sunday and I had done nothing about it. I didn't even have the chance to visit Matt. I felt I failed him. I sobbed during This Is Us as I watched similarities of my life unfold on TV. In that moment, sadness wasn't something I tried to avoid or pretend wasn't there. I knew it was necessary to cry and grieve. I knew that it was warranted and Matt deserved it.
This last month meant a long-anticipated trip to Disneyland with Olivia. I had been planning this surprise trip since well before Christmas. She had no idea we were going until we got to the airport. Spending time with just Olivia was amazing. We had the best time I could have imagined. I often forget just how little Olivia really is. Seeing her around Rylan all the time, I see an older child. But seeing her in Disneyland I saw her in a different light. I feel closer to and more in love with Olivia than ever before. I have a new appreciation for her and the way her mind works, how she loves, what she enjoys, and what makes her crabby. Being alone with her gave me the opportunity to learn so much about her that can easily get lost in the mundaneness of the day-to-day.
I knew Disneyland would also bring an ache to my heart. New experiences with Matt and my kids are really hard. They are hard because he should always be part of them. He should be part of the text messages, phone calls, planning, and excitement. Also, my most recent memory of Disneyland is from 2013 when I went with Matt. We had just had two miscarriages and my doctor wanted us to wait a few months before trying again. Matt and I wanted to go somewhere that would forever change when we had children. So we picked Disneyland. We had such an amazing time together. It was so fun going as grown adults and without children. Naturally, taking Olivia reminded me a lot of my time there with Matt. I wish so badly Matt and I could have taken Olivia to Disneyland together and seen her excitement together.
I decided to spend time on our trip and really be proud of myself. If anyone had asked me in the last year or two if I would ever take Olivia to Disneyland alone I would have said: "absolutely not." Why? Many reasons. Traveling alone. Reminders of Matt. Anxiety in new places. Cost. Leaving Rylan. The list goes on. I came home from our trip with a new sense of pride for myself. I don't acknowledge my accomplishments very often. I don't say that I am proud of myself. I don't want to come across as boastful or full of myself. But I am learning that part of really loving myself means taking the time to recognize the steps I am making towards a good life for the kids and myself.
My therapy sessions lately have been similarly themed as we talk about my accomplishments. My therapist has recently said how she wishes she could have recorded me when I first started seeing her. She sees a major transformation in my perspective, my accomplishments, and my process of grief. She takes the time to make sure I know that she is proud of me. We talk about how this doesn't mean that my grieving is complete. Or that life is suddenly easier. There is no end to processing something like the loss of Matt. What I have learned from her is that if I am mindful of what days are ahead and how it might make me feel, I can cope and handle my grief better. That also means being ok with the overwhelming sadness and crying. Tears bring healing. Crying is good. Just when I think I have a grasp on grief, something comes along to remind me that this process is never over. This hole in my heart will never fully repair. And Matt's absence will always be felt.
