Kathy and I went to an Ultimate tournament this weekend, and again discovered how hard mourning is. We were expecting to go to tournaments with Ellie, and now we won’t be able to do that. Many places where we expect Ellie to be we experience enough to adjust to her absence. For example, walking past her nursery room can still cause pain, but I have done it enough times that I usually don’t even think about it. This is only the second tournament without her and the experience is still new, opening up raw wounds of grief.
It doesn’t help that someone on our sideline had a little baby about Ellie’s age.
Besides missing Ellie at the tournament, neither of us have been working out hard or regularly. We both felt our lack of shape on the field. I am used to playing all day and feeling tired by the end, but still being able to push. Instead, I felt a lack of drive, a lack of competitiveness. And a body that is used to a slower pace.
Since the day was not going well, we decided it would probably be best to head back home. Home meant sleeping in our own beds and having time to discuss our feelings from the day.
To that end, we went for a walk on Sunday. When we got home we found two hours had passed since we left. A quick calculation gave us an estimated five mile walk. It was a lovely day and we had great conversation. Those are the reasons we enjoy walking together these days.
Another factor in our decision was Kathy’s parents. They were in town for a concert and we would not have seen them if we stayed for the entire tournament. We ate brunch together and hung out for a few hours before they headed back to Ohio.