Taking off the Cloak of Grief

Saturday I went to get my nails done and a pedicure! This was a true treat for me because I had been putting it off for months because I was just too busy with holiday stuff. "Pick a color" is the first thing the nail tech tells me after finding out what service I want done. I browsed around at the smorgasbord colors - I usually zero in on go with a red for my toes and something ultra subdued on my nails; so not to draw attention. As I reached for a neutral (depressing) color my hand stopped in mid-reach.

In  the blink of my mind's eye I saw myself as I have been for 2 years. I spent the first year after Mom and Dad died and  Rich was deployed, just existing..not wanting to be noticed because the pain I was in was just too great. I got rid of my 'before' clothes, (the ones that reminded me of life before they died and before Rich left for War) - because I was no longer the same person as I was 'before". I was a changed woman - different. I had become empty, lonely, grief-stricken and ultimately broken. My wardrobe became filled with varying shades of grey and black with a splash of white thrown in. My rainbow of life had lost it's color. In my head I just couldn't brighten my clothes when I felt like I was still in mourning...it just didn't feel right.

Year two rolled around and eventually Rich came home. I added some green and a red sweater here and there so I didn't look as morbid. With my husband's help my closet began to brighten up some, but I still resisted to come out of my mourning clothes. I WANTED to...I longed to.

But, something happened when I reached for that little bottle of nail polish. I knew at that moment that I wanted to mourn no more. No matter how much I wish..or grieve, they are dead and will be dead tomorrow. I have to find a peace about it and force myself to move on. For some reason I still mourned for Rich while he was deployed although he came home to me - for the year lost that I still can't remember or get back. Standing there in that nail shop I realized it was time. Time to leave my self-imposed exile and give myself permission to live, to laugh, to breath, the feel the sun on my face, to accept life again. I knew it was time to throw off my mourning clothes and take in the colors that represent beauty, rebirth, love and life..I'm scared (so scared) but ready to find the part of myself that enjoyed every single day "before".

I passed over the dark red, the neutral browns..I found a happy feeling, peace in a bottle that my fingers picked up and handed to my nail technician:

It looks purple in the picture but it really is Blue.

It's a start!

Peace!