My roomie Jen just "gets" me. When I told her Monday night that I felt weird about just carrying on normally so quickly after my Nanny passed away, she confirmed what I couldn't express. I felt guilty.
Life goes on, regardless of what is happening around us or deep within. My heartbreak over losing my precious Nanny doesn't mean that I can curl up in bed and forget about my responsibilities. I have to move on, go to work, feed Gigi and do my laundry. This is life and death is a part of it.
Moving on doesn't mean you don't care. Everyone grieves differently. People always tell me how strong I am and it always seems strange to me. Coming through life's struggles isn't what I would consider strength in myself, but then again I've never felt there was any option other than getting on with life after a tragedy, heart break, loss, etc. I survive because that's the only thing I know how to do and I'm not sure where that comes from, but I do know I'm lucky to have that strength.
I truly believe God only gives you what you can handle and when I'm struggling to make sense of crummy situations, I think that the big guy up there must REALLY think I'm tough to give me another opportunity to pull through. I also remind loved ones of this when they're upset. There really is a reason for everything and when life seems dismal, there will be sunshine again. Perhaps reminding myself of this is what brings me strength.