I was doing “well,” which is always a relative term with me this past weekend. I had a long hard day yesterday, and we settled into watch a couple shows to defrag, one of which was Call the Midwife.

So, normally we are prepared for a roller coaster of emotions with this show, it is some of the best writing, heart wrenching at times, touching aspects of humanity that are often forgotten. Last night though, I am honestly still reeling from it. This is kinda a spoiler alert if you have not seen it. The episode was from season 3, midseason. The main character, Jenny, got in a bit of a spiff with her boyfriend, who then had a tragic accident. She goes running to the hospital to find him in bad shape, but alive. They talk of a future together, professing their love. She leaves in good spirits, knowing the road to recovery will be long, bumpy at times, but that they would do it together. She is at a birth, and the mom of the woman giving birth comes in and says, you have to go to the hospital, there is a complication. She goes flying out and arrives to find him dead. She is obviously destroyed. Fast forward a bit, and she and her friend are walking out, and runs into the new mom and her baby, and her mom. The new moms mother (sorry, its kinda confusing) was Jewish and a survivor of the war but had lost her entire family. They walk up and see Jenny and she says, “perfect, you are just the person I wanted to see, I want to say goodbye. You see, ever since the war, I always say a proper goodbye, because when I came back, my family was gone, and I never got the chance to say goodbye to them, so now I do.” Of course Jenny is crying at this point and says, “I never got to say goodbye to him.” The new mom says, mom, stop, you are upsetting her. To which her mom says “hush, what peace can she know now?” She turns to Jenny, and says “you will feel better than this, maybe not yet, but you will.” Jenny says “I will?” “Yes, you will. You just keep on living until you are alive again.”

To say this sucker punched me is to put it lightly. I was of course crying and could not stop. Hell, tears are falling right now as I write this. Relatable? Yes. Too much so. Last night as the tears fell, as my body choked up, sobs wanting to escape, the pain, the loss, I felt like I was walking on the edge of an abyss, teetering, trying to hold on to the edge of not falling into a grief that I would not escape. I then was sad/numb, a feeling I know so well. It took forever to fall asleep, my eyes burning as tears threatened. I am still like that today.

You keep on living until you are alive again. I have phrased this as I existed until I learned to live again.

I look around, lasso-ing my mind from its free for all of grief, sadness, hopelessness of the pain that clenches my heart. I lasso it back and remind myself, I have indeed learned to live again. You have read time and time again that I have learned to hold both the grief and the joy. I look at my son, my anchor for so long, the amazing young man he is, though a teenage butt at times, which mostly makes me smile. My husband, who is the calming energy to me, who is so kind, thoughtful, loving, even when he can’t take away my pain. I look at my life, my friends within that lasso. All tethers. Tethers to stay. Tethers to combat moments like last night, moments that open that door of grief more than an inch, taking me down. Reminding me of the chasm of pain and sadness within. I hold on to those tethers, the tethers that keep me afloat in the storms, the waves crashing over me as I barely can catch my breath until I can get my feet under me again. I remind myself today, I have been here before, you can get through this, you will get through this, it will take a few days for this to settle again, but it will. Until then, hold on tight.