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Picking Up The Pieces - Let Healing Begin

It hit me like a ton of bricks. I physically couldn't get a breath as sobs tore through me.

It was just a car - a chunk of metal. I didn't really understand my reluctance of parting ways. But when we sold it this weekend, and I signed my name to the title it all hit me on one gigantic guttural heart-wrenching wave.

It was the last thing that I personally owned before I got married - the only thing left in solely my name. But the real heartache came from realizing this was the car that I bought with my sisters - a spur of the moment purchase on a day out. My sisters who are no longer in my life. They've never met my son - probably never will. He doesn't even know they exist. But in that one moment of relinquishing ownership, the sorrow flooded in - raw - oozing - septic - ripping - searing - pain.

It was as if every memory and emotion hit me at once with one signature of my name.

And then I remembered that I had used the last of the money from my grandparents to pay off my car when I got married years ago. It felt like it was the last tangible thing that I had from them.

This one knocked me to my knees as I bawled with the pain of loss. After some time, I finally got myself under control and handed Hubby the key and the signed title to handle the transaction.

As he and Lil Man went to take care of the final details, I went out for a 12 mile run. I made it about 10 steps and came back home. I just couldn't. I couldn't even push to do the 10 minute rule. So I put my PJs on and curled up on the couch with my dog Tula.

As I laid there my phone kept chirping - so and so ran 12 miles. Chirp - so and so ran 7 miles. Chirp - so and so ran 3 miles. Grrrr. You know I don't like being left out!

Then my mom text that I would probably feel better if I got out and about.

Sigh, so I got myself up, put on my running clothes and ran 2 miles to get ice cream! :)



It felt good to push the pace. I had hoped Hubby could come get me, but he was still in town. So I walked 2 very hot miles home.

Still not 'ok' but better, I settled in on the couch and binge watched a funny sitcom. To the point that I was eventually laughing so hard that Tula looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Laughter truly is healing.

I ended Saturday emotionally drained, but happy to spend the evening with Lil Man and hubby.

Sunday morning I spent some time in reflection and prayer on my Mountain. It was just what my heart needed.






By the time I came home, I felt refreshed, revived and ready to move on from the pain. Let healing begin...



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