January 20, 2012 (Part 1)

It's a really snowy day in Chicago. I've been with the kids by myself all morning for what might be the first time ever. And it didn't go well. The biggest problem is that I can't seem to muster up the energy to play and laugh and have fun. Those things have become foreign to me somehow. I laughed and played with Christen all the time. I just haven't transferred that to the kids. Instead, I'm setting expectations and making demands and generally lacking all the grace Christen continually displayed.
Christen always handled these times far better. She had a way of redirecting the kids without always having to be stern. She had her moments of frustration and lost temper, certainly. But she was mostly so even with them. I feel like some sort of roller coaster wrecking ball, correcting first and teaching later. It's a rough dynamic right now.
Add to this my growing sense of loss. I've lost my best friend, my lover, my conversation partner, my helper, my ministry cooperator. She filled in my empty spaces, which are many, and now that's all I see. I had a dream about her last night... But I woke up. And it wasn't real, and nothing compares to reality. [C.S] Lewis talks about this truth in A Grief Observed, the truth that my recollections of Christen are invariably tampered with by my own self. I put my own twists on what was her in reality, twists that can only be corrected by the real Christen (and thus, can never be corrected anymore). I see this already happening, and it increases my sadness...