Posted to Facebook 2/27/13:

Truth be told, even though I didn't think I was doing it, I've been having many days of sitting around feeling sorry for myself. Yes, I'm aware that it's OK, but to be fully honest, it's not helping nor do I believe it is particularly healthy. By doing this, I can also see that it is having an effect on others around me, and causing me to behave in ways that aren't really me (and I don't like).

It occurred to me this morning that I'm nowhere close to living the life I should be. I am also, in some ways, punishing myself for what happened to Kelci (as if there were anything I could do). I am sure this goes along with forgiveness. I realized a few weeks ago that I needed to forgive myself for not protecting Kelci. Of course I know logically that there was nothing I could have done, but logic and the thoughts tumbling in my brain don't always work together.

This morning it became clear to me that I have to keep reminding myself of this until it really sticks, and also need to fully grasp that it is OK to be happy and move forward (with this), and that I need to allow good things to come into my life despite this horrible thing that has happen. Back in the beginning, when instinct had hold of my body and mind, this came easier.

So here goes (again, and again and again as necessary): I forgive myself and give myself permission to accept all the goodness that is meant for me (it's meant for everyone).

Doing this, allowing happiness, doesn't lessen the pain from my experience, from physically losing Kelci, nor does it tarnish it or Kelci's memory. (Remember emotions, not logic, have been winning here). It actually honors her in the greatest way possible. It is the best memorial and legacy I could ever give her.

So, today, I am recommitting to what I wrote and said from my heart months ago. When I stop living, or put living on hold, and when I allow my grief to consume me, it only hurts me and everyone who loved Kelci. So, I start honoring my girl again by "living out loud", "living in color" or whatever other way expresses living as fully as possible. The more dreams achieved, the more her light will shine.
I'm off to brighten up the world (or at least my part of it).

"Love Is Eternal" painting by Alexandra Brisson

A few days after I posted the above on Facebook, I saw this beautiful post on the wall of another mother whose daughter passed a week before Kelci did:



When you accept what has happened, you aren't acknowledging that it is okay, but rather that you know you must find a way to keep growing and living - even if you don't feel like it.

Don't let grief be your constant companion.
Realize that... your grief is born out of unconditional love for your child and rejoice in that love which will never end.

Embracing life again is not a sign that you have stopped missing your baby, but an example of a love that is eternal.

~ Wisconsin Perspectives Newsletter, Spring 1989

It sums up exactly what I'm feeling and what I've been saying in such a beautiful way.