I was reminded throughout the night, morning and day today how joy can only be measured against sorrow, which in turn defines the median between the two as one's baseline. Although I like to imagine that I reside above the baseline most of the time, something occasionally and unexpectedly knocks me completely off balance to reality check my arrogance and attitude. Thus I topple and plummet to the bottom. It's a dark place the bottom. It's cold, confusing and depressing. It can also be all consuming, at least until you get your bearings back, assuming you do at all. Which I believe I have. l'm slowly climbing my way out. The terrain is steep and the tears made it slippery. Waves of grief still crash from within the void left by Scottie's absence and the trauma of his passing. They land when I awaken without him by our sides and when I go about routines that once included him. Their force causes me to lose my balance and footing again and again. But the tide is receding and the slightest gains in elevation afford me a broader view at a safer distance than remaining in the bottom allows. Jen is right beside me, within an arm's length at all times, holding my extended hand each time we land on a stable plateau, and pointing out the next one along the way. We will get through this. It will take time. We have already started making progress.
⚖️181.4(0) ❤️61(58-99) 👣 5,090/2.2mi (🧘♂️)
⚖️181.4(0) ❤️61(58-99) 👣 5,090/2.2mi (🧘♂️)