Inspiration

It's here.  Today's the day.  They are all 4 gone to school.  I did pretty decent today.

I have received many messages this week telling me how amazing I am, how much I inspire them, how I make them a better parent, how strong I am.

These messages used to frustrate the heck out of me.  I could never figure out how to get the true nature of things across.  I wanted to scream from the rooftops how weak I truly was.  I didn't want to be looked up too.  There was so many days I was lucky to move from the couch to get a drink, let alone actually accomplish anything.  We had sandwiches for dinner.  My house was a mess.

I did NOT have my life together.  It wasn't smooth sailing.  I was in no condition to be looked up too, I wasn't a example of the "proper way to navigate grief".  I was failing.

Lately I feel a bit stronger....sometimes.  I'm not there though.  I'm not doing this right...is there a right way?  I don't have it all together.

I run.  I run every single day.  I ran 98 miles in July.  I have run every single day for 47 days straight.  I have gotten together with friends.  I have cleaned house.  I have gone out with my husband.  I have cooked.  I have played with the kids.  I have learned a new hobby, pottery.  I have formed relationships.  I have ended relationships that were hurting me and pulling me down.
I have worked my butt off as a volunteer in an AMAZO organization called, IR4, Inc.  I have helped launch a new group inside IR4, called IR4 Siblings : The Unsung Heroes.

I have also laid on the couch in pj's watching so much TV I can't even absorb what I have seen.  I have served sandwiches for dinner.  I have let my house go at times, not cleaning at all for days.  I have cancelled with friends.  I have run the minimal 1 mile at 9pm at night because I couldn't bring myself to do it earlier in the day.  I have avoided phone calls and paperwork.  I have fought to get up out of bed in the morning, simply wanting to sleep life away.  I have yelled, cussed, screamed, cried, and beat pillows in anger, frustration and pain.

It's not been pretty.  It's not been easy.  It has taken EVERY ounce of myself to get through each day.  I have NO idea how I have made it 67 weeks, 3 days, 10 hrs.  It's messy, it's dirty, it's HARD; and I can't tell you at this point how I'm going to make it each and every day and week and month and year to come.  I can no longer look and plan that far ahead.
My family, my friends, my home, and my health have all suffered at times.  At times life has been full, painfully full.  The smiles and laughter have filled our home, sometimes seconds later swapped with tears that shake the body to it's very core.

What I can say at this point, is somehow, someway; I'm surviving...we are surviving.
It's not pretty, it's probably not the right way, it's probably not the wrong way

I'm proud that we are inspiring people.  I don't know why.  I tried to figure it out.  I tried to see what helped people in their daily lives.  I gave up.  It doesn't matter.  It simply doesn't.
If our story, if our struggle, our triumph, our tears, our pain, our laughter, our journey can inspire others than we won't stop; we are Eli's voice, we are living for two.
Eli lives on in our family, in our life, in our story; and if our story inspires you then Eli is living on in your lives too.
Eli is our strength, Eli is the reason we get through each day.

Blessings.