the good side of grief

As day three begins of me slowing expelling any hope I had left from my body, I can't help but reflect on the past seven months and the grief this little house has endured. We still haven't had that housewarming party to celebrate the first house we have ever owned. Up until last week I thought maybe our party would be to celebrate this baby, a year after losing Winnie. But here we are again. No parties. No laughter. More tears and dreary days. The house we are so proud of feels eerily quiet. No baby crying and a second bedroom still empty.

The good side of grief is this: I love my husband even more than I ever could imagine. Over the past seven months we have grown together. We have talked and cried and embraced and realized how much we can take. The good side of grief is that I spend hours staring at my daughter with awe at what a beautiful miracle she is. I am all hers. She is all mine. The good side of grief is that as another day stuck at home approaches, we work as a team to conquer house project after house project (something we really enjoy by the way). This grief has begun a slow remodel of this old house; we get shit done.

After all this is said, my only hope is that someday we will want to share all our home improvements with friends and families. That we can fill this house to celebrate what we have rather than memorialize what we have lost. How I long for that day. For now, we are painting trim and digging up mulch! (Which sounds just a bit like my dad)