A tough date.

Scotty and I decided to go out on a day date today. I can't remember the last time we had a date and while our house help is around, it is easier just to leave Natty with her and go out during the day instead of finding a babysitter for the evening. So, we ran a few errands and then headed to the nice movie theater with plans to do some window shopping after the movie. Lately, movies are a nice distraction from the often gloomy reality of life, and I was especially looking forward to escaping for a couple hours today. We bought tickets, popcorn and a big drink for about $8! Love that. The movie was interesting and I was excited for a few more minutes to hang out with Scotty when we ran into a friend we haven't seen for quite some time. Not being very connected to us or Facebook very frequently, he didn't know anything about Zion. It came up and, of course, I started crying in the middle of the mall and wondered how I could escape quickly without anyone seeing me. But, there also happened to be an entire table full of people we knew and had to say hi to them as well. So, the date was quickly terminated and the car ride home, silent. When telling someone for the first time about Zion's death, I'm not just sad because he's gone, but everything that is sad that I've mentioned before comes to the surface. Everything that at any given moment can ruin my day is brought before me again. I thought I could avoid reality for enough time to have a good date with Scotty, but there's no escaping the hard truth. If not on the surface, it's always lurking shallowly beneath. The "why-me's?" were haunting me all the way home. Why can't I just have a date out with my husband without having to be reminded my son died. Why can the sheer mention of Zion sometimes take all joy out of my day? Why does grief come up at the most inopportune times and send me reeling when I felt emotionally stable 5 seconds earlier? And so, the journey continues... Somewhere along the way, I feel like God has given me more peace in and acceptance of His continued goodness and His love. It doesn't seem as hard to believe as it once did, but the pain is as real as ever and presents itself in many different dimensions- a seemingly infinite number of new ways each day. But, I know I must hold on to this faith, however lacking, and know there is light at the end of the tunnel.