Wasted

For the past couple weeks, I've worked twelve hour days. Doing that, and raising two kids on my own for those two weeks, with little less than a three hour break took its toll. There wasn't time for worrying, there wasn't time for wanting. The only thing I could do was go from one thing to the next, to the next, and try to keep a smile on my face the entire time. And I did, for the most part. I realized, in this week of busy-ness, how much time I had previously wasted. I spent months - MONTHS - trying to figure out why the divorce was happening. I spent energy - so much energy - on the tears, the anger, the fear and the sorrow. And you know, the "why" answer is no clearer to me than on the day he walked out. I wasted so many days wondering about that why. Gone. Wasted, wondering why.

The why doesn't matter. The why will never be answered because I am not him, and he is not me. The "why did Jeff die?" question sits in the same wasted time box. I don't know. I will never know - at least not on this earth. So why ask why?

During the separation and into the upcoming divorce, I spent many days learning about myself; my priorities; my wants; my needs and my hopes for the future. NOT wasted. I am very grateful for that, and the tears I cried in figuring that out - NOT wasted.

I've learned. In all of this, I have learned so much. And this morning, in the midst of hammering out contracts, with sips of coffee in between, while my i-pod blared music, I had to stop. The song Life Itself came on, and I glanced up at Jeff's picture, and that was it. I was done for. I shook my head hard back and forth, and said, "No, no, no..." and I hit forward on the radio. After several seconds of a different song, with the wave of sadness rippling throughout my body, I hit the back button and turned the song as loud as Gracie could bear. And I cried. I cried for my sorrow over having lost a beautiful person in my life. I cried with every memory I had of his smile - from the age of four through the age of 38. I cried because I know that I will not see him - physically - again for a very long time. I sang the words to the song with tears streaming down my face and I wailed with the chorus. When the song ended, I turned off the stereo, sat back in my desk chair, took a deep breath, closed my eyes and thanked God for that moment. It wasn't wasted. It had to be done. Soon after, I blew a kiss to his picture and got back to work.

As sad as it seems, it was a moment in my life that I lived. Yes, my grief over having lost my brother is part of my life now - it is a grief that I will live with forever, and live with it, I must. Trying to ignore it by shaking my head and begging "no" is simply a waste of my time because it will have affected my work, my responsibilities toward the kids and my interaction with the kids and everyone else around me.

I have decided to feel the pain when it comes - allow it to be a blessing that reminds me of how much I have loved, of how much I love, of how much I will continue to love.

And I will not waste any more of this precious time I have in my life, worrying about non-essential things. I cannot afford to do that. Every moment is my moment to live. Every moment wasted is a moment that I owned and threw away - gone forever from my life.

Love. Show love. Live love. Be love. There is never a wasted moment in loving, even if it's surfing on a huge wave of sorrow.