I love my husband.
People die for this kind of love.
People stay alive for this kind of love.
When I sit and think about how much love I have for Matt, I feel like I could explode. Literally, explode. I can feel it warm my chest and burn my eyes. It’s real. It breathes and grows and evolves as our lives unfold. It has an agenda.
This is a rare love. Something I never dreamed I was capable of. In fact, prior to the accident I would’ve sworn there was no way my brain was capable of this type of love.
Unknowingly God was preparing me for what I was made for. He made me To love. To love Matt. No one will ever love him the way I do. That is why I am so protective over his life. I will safeguard his heart at the expense of my own. It just comes second nature. He is precious.
I do not feel. I do not cry. I do not get stressed out.
I do, but I don’t.
It’s there, lying in wait to boil over.
I’m sad. Heart broken. Gasping for breath as I’m being crushed by the unrelenting weight of it all. The loss of my husband. The loss of my life. The loss of control.
The loss of myself. But I am okay.
I am okay because I love my husband.
The love I feel for him far out weighs what I think I lost.
I am learning the emotions are there. The pain. The agony. The constant fear, of everything. Someone once described me as cold, like stone.
I am far from stone. I am sopping wet and broken. I am battling through it because “It’s what I do” (a little Buffy;)
I just do it. And I’m happy to do it. I’m happy to fulfill this story for the glory of God. For whatever his plan is. I am honored. It doesn’t mean it isn’t hard. Of course it’s hard but eternity is longer than this life and we will all rest one day.
Life is different now and it’s okay to feel it. It’s necessary to feel it. All of it. The pain. The loss. The ache. The emptiness.
Because how can I refill what is not empty.
Matt refills my life.
Christ refills my life.
It’s Brain Injury Awareness month and I want caregivers to know this is about you too. You are injured as well.
And it is hard. And that’s okay.