Buzzing

I knew it would happen, but it is still hard.  I don't blame them, they don't know.  I really don't even know what I expect.  I am not sure they could ever get it right. 

The day after Rocky's death my home was a bee hive.  There is no other way to describe it.  The worker bees came in and took over.  Took over to a level of making me uncomfortable.  Some of these bees I knew, some I had seen.  Some I thought were sending me a message that they were there for me.  I was advised to let them do their thing.  Was it nice to have my home cleaned?  Sure.  Was it nice that people cared?  I suppose.  The truth is now 5 months later, the pain is harder.  The reality is far more concrete.  The bees are long gone.  Just wondering, if the motive was not to help the hive thrive, then perhaps you should not have swarmed.

Learning Control

Several times lately I have seen the statement that says, "Sometimes memories are seen as tears running down my cheeks."  I get that.  Sometimes they are out of control.  What I have found is that when I am tired or stressed I have less control of this.  That is my fear with going back into the classroom.  It is both exhausting and stressful.  What do I do when my mind goes back to the pain?  How do I handle the defiant kid?  I have struggled with controlling my reactions with my own children. They know where I am.  How do I do that with others?  The though of the classroom brings tears to my eyes.  I know God has me there and will help me but I really don't know what that will look like.  When I think about it, I cry.  I suppose I will learn to control the tears and let them flow at night.  There are very few that understand where I am.  They are not at work.  At school, I am supposed to be in control.  I can fake it, but I am not sure for how long.  Going to learn control.  Somehow, Someway.