Grief is draining. I feel physically and emotionally exhausted, as though I have nothing left to give.
But I know that isn't true. Today, I gave my husband comfort, even though I knew I had nothing to give. Tonight I gave my friend advice when she stopped by my work for a little bit, even though I knew I had nothing left to give. Right now I am giving my youngest attention because he woke up and can't fall back asleep, even though I'm exhausted and have nothing more to give.
I feel like I have nothing in my reservoir to dip from. And yet I know that somewhere deep inside, there is strength. There is strength to wake up in the morning. There is strength to fix my kids breakfast and get them to school. There is strength to be there for my Hubby as he grieves. There is strength that let me eat this week, even though it hasn't been quite enough or at all what I've wanted to do.
My cup still needs to be filled but I'm finding unknown strength in the midst of grief. I had dreams all night about the casket being lowered into the ground. Some of the dreams it was cousin's casket, some of them it was Hubby, some of them it was my dad-in-law and some of them I wasn't sure who was being lowered into the ground. The finality of watching the casket of someone as it drops into the ground is disheartening and devastating. It feels in that moment that you will drop to your knees in the weakness of grief and never be able to stand. And yet somehow I found the strength to hold Aunt's shaking hand and walk her back to the limo. Somehow I found the strength to hug Cousin's widow and apologize for letting the distance of 45 minutes be an excuse for letting our relationship with family slide to a back burner.
My body feels heavy with the weight of exhaustion and grief. I am amazed at how tiring crying really is. And emotionally, I'm spent!