February 6

It's been an exhausting day because I am just not okay. I could pretend that I am and sometimes I do just that because it's easier to smile and say "I'm fine, thanks" than it is to admit that I'm as broken as I am. And because let's face it: people shy away from people who are negative or sad or otherwise emotionally draining, and I really don't like being alone. And right now, I'm the Dyson of emotional vacuums.

It's just hard to get through the days leading up to the anniversary. It's like I lose my filter entirely and repeatedly stick both feet in my mouth, and then I feel terrible and have to muster the emotional energy to apologize while quietly feeling like the worst person ever for not being able to keep it together. Because it's been almost six years. Shouldn't I have it together by now? I don't know. Part of me thinks I should and part of me feels like a failure because I can't just say "enough. I'm going to stop being so emotional now." Like somehow, I'm getting the God-part of living with loss profoundly wrong. So for better or worse, that's where I am.

But today had its bright spots, and my coffee with Christina was one of them. I met her almost 10 years ago when she was Abby's preschool teacher. She went on to have Logan, Isaac, and Brady in her class, which gives her the distinction of being the only person who will ever teach all four of them. That alone makes her special to me.

But she's also special because she knows what it's like to have to let go of a child. Our circumstances are completely different, but the end result --the absence of someone we expected to nurture through childhood and walk alongside during adulthood-- is the same. As we talked, I nodded along with so much of what she said, and though I wish I could change her situation, it was comforting to know that someone understands my feelings on a deep, soul-level; that someone I know can relate to so many of the emotions --that searing sense of loss and brokenness and dissonance and anger and emptiness-- with which I struggle.

I always need those connections, but this time of year in particular, they're invaluable. So as this hard day comes to a close, I'm deeply thankful to be able to count her as a friend.