today was a good day

“Sometimes, only one person is missing, and the whole world seems depopulated.”

–Alphonse de Lamartine, Méditations Poétiques

Every day the last four weeks I have woken up and laid in bed with my dog Sophie. I have thought about what to do with my day and each morning, I think about laying in bed the entire day. But then I get up.

My husband texts me each morning when he gets to his office and asks me what my plans are for the day. He’s always done this and now I’m even more thankful he does. It helps motivate me to move and accomplish my tasks for the day.

Each day I try to make lists of things to do and cross them off. Today I started by reading an article that popped into my Aberdeen News app notifications. It was written by a reporter named Erin Ballard. She visited a new salt therapy place in town and it was titled, “Salt room offers more than one type of healing.” I had just talked to my friend about the salt place, so I figured I’d read it quick.

It started talking about her sinus issues and how helpful the salt room was. It peaked my interest. I have sinus issues. She then talked about how salt therapy is also known for helping mental health. Again, interest peaked. I can always use mental health help.

Erin then got incredibly raw & real. She talked about losing her fiancé to an accident last labor day weekend. I was not expecting this, and I was taken aback. My heart immediately opened for Erin. Through her words, I could feel Erin’s pain.

I read her story, and how the salt therapy had helped her. And I realized yet again, I am not alone in my grief. While she is experiencing a different broken heart, it’s still broken. I don’t know Erin personally (shocker with the size of Aberdeen) – but I feel connected to her, and I appreciate her openness and honesty.

I found strength after reading her story. And I got out of bed and started my day. I went to my friend’s salon and had a great morning surrounded by fun people. I got asked about having kids, and for the first time, I found the strength to say I had one kid, and that he was in heaven. And I didn’t cry. I felt empowered. I felt like the old me.

I met with my boss after that, and had a wonderful conversation with him about the Association I love, the SDRA members I love, and just life in general. It felt really great to talk with him, and again I felt like the old me. I thought to myself, maybe a piece of me is coming back.

I went to my store and crossed items off my list. I talked with friends and tried on a new dress. I drove home and talked to my parents about my good day. I FaceTimed with my niece, cooked dinner, made cookies, and enjoyed watching the Yankees game with my husband. I felt awesome. It was a great day.

I have worked hard to protect myself, and listen to myself. I have stopped doing what everyone else needs, and have started doing what I need. It’s been very hard for me, but it’s what I have to do. I’m working on figuring out the steps to take in order to move forward, without forcing myself to do things I’m not ready to do. I’m proud of myself for this.

I knew all day I was going to write about how great the day was, and how I was finally feeling like me again. And then the night came, and with that my dark clouds were back. The night really sucks for me. It’s when I sit and think about everything. Each of the things that have happened in the past 4 weeks. Things that knock me down from the pedestal I work to climb all day. It’s rough.

And even though I enjoyed my day, I didn’t want to write about it anymore. Now I was sad, and it was ruined. Then I remembered Erin Ballard and her article, and I decided to share my thoughts. My day wasn’t ruined by the night, it was still a great one.

Thank you to Erin, you helped remind me that I’m not alone in my grief. We are all feeling it, great days, bad nights. Oh, and you’ve fully convinced me that I need to try the salt therapy. I hope my honest writing somehow helps others the way Erin’s helped me.

So I will continue to start each day determined to have a great day. And the nights…they’re the hardest, but they’ll get better.