The ball and the box metaphor is a beautiful one that I stumbled onto today. Draw a box and inside it draw a large ball. On one wall of the box draw a button inside. This is your pain button. When grief is new, the ball that is inside the box is quite large. It takes up so much space, it almost feels like the box itself. Thus it is constantly rubbing against the button that brings up your pain.
This weekend, my pain button kept being tapped. Life naturally moves this box around, like a wooden labyrinth. So often, the pain button is just avoided. Other times, you keep slamming into that same darn spot.
This weekend that. A work experience where I wanted advice *pain button* I wish I could ask Dad for help. Seeing my sweet friend’s 2-year-old sit with her “Papa” * pain button* “Dad, I wish you’d get this for yourself”. Driving home, thinking about Easter *pain button* “I wish you both were here and we were having Easter dinner at the house”. Our house. Life *pain button* loss of parents stirred up. Over and over again.
I can go days, weeks even, without the pain button being touched. But man, did I make up for lost time it seemed.
And I’m ok. This is human. I can still feel, breathe, cry and an hour later, smack a tennis ball so hard, laugh with a cashier or honk at the drive that cuts me off. Because life goes on, even if its hard. Even if I miss you more than I can express.
Oh, and pain button, you are welcome to take a vacation this week. You’ve been present enough. 🙂