Toward the end of last year’s lacrosse season I started to have some major grief issues. The lacrosse season allowed me to stay busy and keep my mind off of what I had lost. This year there was a lot of highs and lows, and though my team is awaiting to hear if we had made it into the post-season tournament, things feel a little unsettled like they did a season ago. When the season is over, my normal routines get altered and I lose a little bit of purpose in my life. I can’t explain it, but I have this unnerving feeling of not sure what comes next.
We lost a must-win game on Saturday and after the game, I just wished George was alive so badly so I could vent to him. All season long, his absence was felt so much more this year than last. I would come home from practice and just want to tell him everything that’s gone on. All the good news and the bad. Just a need to talk to him. After Saturday’s game I wanted to tell him how disappointed I was, and how I felt I had let my team down. But through the wanting to have him return to me, having all his small trinkets and some of his stuff around me in the apartment, I knew this is a piece of this journey that going at it alone was best. Something that will prepare me and make me stronger for the future. Whenever I want to breakdown and just fall apart, I remember how far I’ve come, how much I’ve grown and changed. And regardless of outcomes, and petty conflicts, no one can take my strength away from me. It is a part of me, and has made me who I am now.
So just like I did last year at this time, I’m turning to fitness. Running, biking, lifting, and swimming. It just makes me feel alive. I want to look as strong as I feel. And I’m closing in on that goal. So much has changed since that dreadful morning of November 25, 2013.