Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Happy and the Ugly Cry

Day 10 of my Muchness Challenge


This is the song of the day. I started listening to it this afternoon when I needed to come up with a song for our creative writing assignment tomorrow. I decided that "Happy" would be perfect for our activity because everyone would either enjoy the song or hate the song. Strong emotions either way should make for some good writing moments.

In the song Pharrell says, "It might seem crazy what I'm about to say."

This is precisely how I feel this blog might go. How can I feel this happy? I think today might be the happiest I have felt since Alaska died. I've cried several times today, but I still feel happy. I have wondered if maybe there is something wrong with me. Maybe I'm losing it completely. I don't think so, though. I think I am doing just what I need to do to love life. I am sharing Alaska with the world. I'm not hiding her or trying to forget her. I am celebrating her, so I believe that this is why I can feel happy today. My fingers are happy and my sore muscles are happy and my toes right now are dangling off the edge of my bed. They are dancing, happy toes.

I used emoticons in emails today. I don't know for sure if this was the first day of using emoticons or if this has been a gradual transition, but I noticed that I was throwing smilies in my messages to people. Happy. (This happened before my "Happy" marathon.) I was feeling happy before the song.

The song was an interrobang on my day: Because I'm happy‽

I am happy and I miss Alaska and I can smile and I can laugh and I can cry all in the matter of a few minutes. I can feel all of it.

My boys asked me today if the doctors could see Alaska's hair and eyes because they really want to know what she looked like. They have pictures of their baby sister to draw! I wish I knew. I wanted to see her even though she was gone. In some ways I blame myself for not being able to see her, but I have forgiven myself (and I know that I did everything I could). I don't think I could feel this happy if I hadn't forgiven myself. Occasionally I start telling myself that it was for the best that I didn't get to see Alaska because her body may have been damaged from the birth. I don't really believe that it was for the best, though. I was prepared to see her. I imagine--and this is not a pleasant thought, so you might want to skip to the next paragraph--I imagine that her body would have been discolored. Her body may have have come apart. I was ready for this, though. I just wanted to see my baby. Just once.

So even with these terrible thoughts, I still feel happy. People say that when you break and heal, you are scarred but stronger. I think that is true in many ways. I feel like I shattered, like I'm missing pieces that I will never have again, but I have a new person to love (Alaska) and a new ability to live more intensely. Don't get me wrong, I am not going to go on a roller coaster or become an extrovert or even start speeding, but I'm not scared of living like I used to be. If I take a chance and mess up, I know that I will be ok. I know that I can eventually hold as much pain in the same hand as I hold joy. I can feel both at the same time with dancing toes and laughing hands and a sobbing, ugly cry.

Brandon just came into the room for a few minutes but left because I was clapping along like the song told me to. I just told him like the song says, "Can't nothing bring me down." A definite muchness moment.

Now I challenge you to listen to "Happy" by Pharrell Williams and have a little dance party right now with the people in the room. Please! And if you do it, take a picture of your faces or your feet and share it with me. This means you--whoever you are! Ready? Go!

"Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth."