You have seen over the last few weeks me in an extremely focused mode, going from one task to the next.  The past week has been interesting as time closes in on this 4th anniversary. 

I reflected a lot on the plane today to Boston.  I often have these lofty ideals of working on the plane, and like usual when I am a passenger, I promptly fall asleep. Once awake, I looked outside at the tops of the clouds rolling by, mesmerized by their symmetry. I have always loved the view from a top, imagining them to be springy like marshmallows. They also make me think of Bells, the child rarely walked, she hopped, skipped, and jumped, I imagine her doing all the above on these clouds…

I have felt in and out of my body this past week, sometimes almost completely feeling disassociated, but most of the time, part way.  F was away this past weekend for the annual boys ski trip, leaving me on my own.  I had a ton to do, making the finishing touches on my keynote and class, and practicing both. I also had to pack both Fi and I for the trip to Costa Rica.  I got to putz on the computer planning that as well. It was very very quiet. Aside from a happy hour with my friend on Saturday, it was mostly in silence.

That was a silence I hated at the beginning after Jess and Bells died. Now it is silence I crave. I wonder sometime if I was alone in the world, if I would end up in one of those remote places, in a simple cabin or house, miles away from everything, not seeing a soul in the world. I wonder if it would curl in on itself, the quiet feeding into craving more quiet, or would I get sick of it. Things I thought about this weekend.

My subconscious and conscious have been touching on the grief and loss, the memories that are entrenched in the sub working their way to the conscious. There have been these moments where my breath catches and chest tightens with the body knowing and I immediately move to another task. I looked a little too long at a picture of Bells, and the feeling of free fall started, my eyes immediately tearing up, and I panicked. And went to the next thing on my list. It does help a bit being in a new house, new surroundings, not being in the proximity of the old house.  I just can’t go there.

It is surreal that it has been almost four years. It feels like yesterday and forever.

I am in Boston for the Massachusetts Department of Health’s Suicide Prevention conference. I am keynoting on Thursday along with teaching a class in the afternoon on the Tools to Navigate the Roller Coaster of Grief, combining my loss experience and 18+ years in the alternative medicine field.  I am super nervous and excited. This is a long culmination of planting seeds that are starting to bloom.  A dream come true.  Murder/Suicide is a tough one to hear about, and most places think it’s “too much” re a keynote.  The reality because of that, is a lot of people who are left unsupported because no one understands the reality of what it looks like for those left behind. It is not something that can be taught in books.  I am honored to be here, to be able to share my story of what happened, what helped, what didn’t, weaving in hope. I was worried that I would be a mess because of timing, but I think the non stop schedule leading up was actually helpful.

I don’t know what the next week will look and feel like, especially once I stop and am on the plane to Costa Rica.  It is the stopping after a looonnnggg few weeks that worries me. Hoping that being in another country will continue to allow the distraction in my mind of being focused and aware of my surroundings. This is also new territory with F in my life. He was there last year, but not with us. I am so grateful for his patience and understanding as I am listing and ridiculous in my planning and forgetfulness/spaciness all at the same time. I am grateful for his love. We have a full day planned for the anniversary, mostly being bathed in nature, waterfalls, hikes, and hot springs at the end of the day. An adventure. As always, I am grateful for you who follow this journey alongside me, allowing me to be raw and honest, vent when needed, and supportive.  It takes a community to weave that net of support after a tragedy, and I would not be where I am without that, so thank you.