Grief and This Hobby

It is with a broken heart that I write this. Trigger warning: death, loss, grief (that means skip this post if you don't want to deal with that)

On Friday, I had to a make a very difficult decision.

Intellectually, in the face of the data the doctor presented to me, and my own observations of Peppermint's behavior over the previous days, I believe the decision was, ultimately, the right one. Emotionally, I would give anything for more time with my fuzzy little boy and for his illnesses to have been less serious.

To say I miss him terribly would be a gross understatement. 

Prayer and meditation helps to deal with the grief and this sense of loss, to no one's surprise I'm sure. 

To my surprise, this hobby of ours has helped as much if not more.

On Friday night, I was at a complete loss of what to do with myself. My son had submerged himself into video games (we deal with things differently) and I had tried that but found myself feeling restless. I meditated, read, but I still felt a crushing darkness looming over me.

I don't know what compelled me to pick up some figures to paint, but I started in on it and for the time I spent, all was quiet inside me. The toy soldiers stood their ground firmly against the darkness as I toiled over their paint jobs.

There was a little feeling of guilt afterwards, for having done something enjoyable in the face of loss, but I could do no good for anyone sobbing into one of Peppermint's sweaters. And so, for that reason, I returned again and again to painting over the weekend.

I will be forever grateful for having been able to be Peppermint's dad, and for all of the lessons that he taught me. And I am grateful that I found this hobby, which, in moments of stress and grief, can provide a respite.