I’ve had a difficult time adjusting back to East coast time since returning from Arizona on Sunday. I typically spring out of bed at 5:00am (yes, I’m one of those overly happy and energetic morning people) but this week I’ve been dragging my groggy self out of bed at 6:15.
I have felt off all week-long. Not just my clock…but emotionally I haven’t felt quite right either. Yesterday while taking my dog for a walk I asked the Lord what was wrong. Why don’t I feel like my old chipper self? His answer:
And, of course, the tears came out.
I realized that it wasn’t just my clock having a hard time readjusting. My heart was having a hard time readjusting too.
Last week, I arrived one morning to visit my dad at the rehab facility. I was about to turn down the corridor to his room when I caught sight of a man in a wheelchair down at the end of the hallway directly in front of me. I recognized the shirt the man had on. It looked exactly like a shirt my dad owned. I walked towards the small and frail looking elderly man sitting in that chair. My brain was having a hard time accepting what I was seeing.
When I climbed into bed last night, I told my husband that I think my emotions are finally catching up with the reality of the situation. I wanted so much to be an encouragement to my dad last week when I visited him. I wanted to be strong for him. And, I was.
But this week, I grieve.
And you, my friends, get to read about it. You lucky, lucky people. 😉 Writing and talking about it is how I heal and process things.
What about you? Have you ever been in the midst of the grieving process and not even recognized it.