It's Sunday night and I watch Grey's Anatomy with my daughter and we don't care at all about the Superbowl. We watch Grey's. We love it. And tonight my heart cracks wide open and I bury my face in the blanket on my lap and I weep, all because of yesterday.
It was Saturday night and it went like this:
I'm off tomorrow, after 11 days in a row, and so tonight feels like a celebration for G and I. There is dinner in front of the TV - and a rented movie from Amazon Prime - and there are brownies AND ice cream AND chips. I am indulgent and catering to his whims. When our movie is almost over, there is the ultimate finale: "hey G", I say. "I don't have to get up early for work tomorrow, do you want to have a sleep over in my bed?" He hoots with joy while kicking his little bare feet and pumping his little fists into the air. He crows, "This is the BEST night EVER!" I agree with my whole heart.
We are snuggled up in my bed. The heated mattress pads are on, we are in flannels and reclining on an over abundance of pillows. The down comforter and heavy quilt feel safe and cozy. I check some last minute emails in the glow of the reading light. G says, out of the blue, "how old would your momma be now if she were alive?" We've talked about this in the past. He has grandparents from his father and sees them often enough to have a relationship and connection. Both of my parents are long gone, as well as my stepfather. His only connection to 'grandparents' is his fathers parents whom he sees once every few months.
"She would be, um, 76 I think?" I am bad at math and try to calculate as quick as I can - he is amazing at math and I don't feel up to the shame of being wrong right now. He thinks for a minute and then says, "But how old was she when she died?" In the back of my mind I understand that he is asking about my age, and death, and my longevity but my mouth just blurts out the answer, "She was 52", before I can fully grasp that A) he is good at math and B) I am 49.
"Ohhhh..." he says in a whisperish voice (as much as a wild monkey of a 6 yr old boy can whisper) "52? That's so sad momma, 52 just isn't enough!"
*crickets*
"Yeah, buddy, I know... it wasn't enough...but don't worry, I'm strong and healthy and I'll be here for a long long time!" I lie. Who knows? I mean... really. Who knows?
I am crying, again, as I type this.
He is so right. 52 was not enough. Not for her, for her husband, not for me or my brothers, or for HER brothers, not for her mother, or for the grandchildren she knew - nor for the ones she never met. It wasn't enough. Not even close. I cried while hugging my lanky, toothless, 6 year old elbow-ey little boy - the one who never met my momma (who would have LOVED him!) and he hugged me back.
Tonight,because of last night; while watching Greys Anatomy with my 21 year old daughter (who also never met my momma, her grammy, who would have loved her immeasurably) my heart broke along some fault line that was created some 24 years ago and it remains a little wider tonight, a little more crumbly and unstable, and so surprisingly that I'm unable to go for more than 5 minutes without it pinching and hurting me.
I don't know what it's like to lose a child - a piece of you that has grown under your heart and within your body - I don't know what it's like to lose the partner you've chosen to share your life with and have memories and growth with - I don't know what it's like to lose a sibling - a cell compatible bond and the one you share childhood experiences and the shaping of your adultness with - but losing the ones who created you? The one who birthed you from their own body, the ones who nurtured and protected and rejoiced in you? The ones who know who you are, who you were, who you COULD be? I've lost those... I know that pain...and that emptiness...and that really fucking sucks.
Grey's Anatomy didn't break me tonight - it just reminded me where I was already broken. Broken in the way that lets light shine in and illuminate me so that I shine brighter, so that I can shine on someone else who needs some light. I might have buried my face in a blanket and hid for a moment tonight, but tomorrow I will remember to shine in all my broken emptiness and to be a vessel of hope and brilliance that can light the way for someone else.
Thank you Grey's Anatomy. Thank you momma. Thank you daddy. Thank you Mike. I am full of light because of you.
Showing posts with label Growth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Growth. Show all posts
February 3, 2019
January 11, 2019
2018 Recap
Once again I'm noting that it's been too long between blog posts.
Once upon a time I had a blog that I posted to daily, that I had followers on, and I was part of a community; a 'village' of souls who wrote and read and cheered each other on. Once upon a time I wrote daily as a way to process life and all the curves and winding roads and darkness and brilliance that it has to offer. Back then I had the time to notice, and then notate, all the noticings. Now I'm lucky if at the end of the day, I get to notice whether or not I've worn the same pants more than 2 days in a row. It always feel so good to come back to writing though, it feels like it centers me and ties up all the loose ends. Sometimes its as if the act of writing creates sense out of all the experiences in any given day.
In March I noted that life was feeling more settled for both Griffin and myself even as I was already anticipating upcoming changes.
In May, I noted that it was going to be a wild ride, that I was "abandoning fear and embracing possibility". I was right about that - it was, and has been, a wild ride since then. Tumultuous, frightening, bumpy, exhilarating! And the friends I've chosen to hold hands with on this journey have proven to be anchors and shorelines and shiny lights in the darker moments. God has put them all into the little niche's of my life that they've needed to be in, at just the right moments.
In July, I noted that life was about being valiant, about being steadfast and balanced and grateful. I alluded to struggles in my new job. It's a work in progress, that whole 'valiant' life thing. *insert ironic chuckle and an eye roll*
As the summer ended I was able to reflect on (but neglected to write about) so many wonderful experiences and moments that I was able to spend with my youngest son, all because of my new job. This time while he is still little sometimes feels so fleeting even when the days sometimes drag on endlessly. This summer allowed us time we needed to have for playing - just playing and adventuring and sharing time with each other and with my youngest daughter too. Family time. This summer was also time just for me. Time to focus on myself - to go out with friends, to dress up and put on perfume and go on a 'date' and be a grown up - because I had the time available with the new job. Precious time. I might have been producing less income and that was scary but I was so endlessly grateful that sometimes all I could repeat, over and over in my mind or under my breath, was, "thank you God, thank you God, thank you God". Money will come, and money will go, but those relationships and the investment of time that I was granted, are irreplaceable.
Then first grade started for G and all that bumpiness and exhilaration, mixed with the need for valiant and steadfast behavior, splashed with gratitude and time, all melted together and we needed to slog thru the days. We were getting into routines and making new ones and sometimes failing and sometimes rising above, with laughter, and tears all together. And then it was the end of October, and nearly headed into winter. G was a first grade boy with two missing teeth who sometimes forgot his lunchbox at school and I was working during the day and at home every evening and life felt...normal. It was a sweet time for me that was only going to get sweeter.
November was all about balance, although that is totally in hindsight! Every Thanksgiving since my divorce has been a struggle to redefine tradition and to create something of value and hope and love for my kids. Funny thing about kids is that they grow and change and leave home and end up creating some traditions of their own! This year we celebrated with a special friend and his children and mine all together. There is an awkwardness to spending a holiday as a guest - food is different, expectations are different, and blending the needs and wants of so many people all at once for a holiday can be hard for everyone, even the kids. This was so peaceful though! We all had such fun with incredible food and desserts, and crazy board games and really getting to know each other. It was an evening that left me feeling immensely thankful. Later in November I was struck hard with the realization that I am pretty alone in this journey right now and it was a painful moment, a little dark spot that reminded me how strong I can be when I have to, and how much gratitude I have for my friends, the help from my older daughter, and my faith. Balance, man... balance!
I never really feel like January is "the new year"... I always feel like the "year" is from the start of the school year and lasts until the next one starts. So January is really just a matter of learning to write the new date properly! Its a continuation of everything we started in September and so we keep plugging along, getting through the days and embracing the forward growth and the learning opportunities as they arise. The dark and dreary parts of winter are settling in now that the big holidays are over and we are a little resigned to the months ahead of cold New England. I'm leaving the job I started last spring that allowed me to work during the day but was unexpectedly not a good fit for me. In my new position, I'll be able to continue working days and will have better opportunity for additional hours and will be able to work with some old friends which brings me so much joy! I am deepening relationships, with myself and with my faith and with others as well, and I continue to try and help my little guy grow into himself and to become the whole person he is destined to be.
Like a lotus flower that blooms again each morning from the murky water, or the sunflower whose bright face follows the sun as it moves across the sky, I will continue trusting in the universe, in God, and in the continuity of balance in my life.
Once upon a time I had a blog that I posted to daily, that I had followers on, and I was part of a community; a 'village' of souls who wrote and read and cheered each other on. Once upon a time I wrote daily as a way to process life and all the curves and winding roads and darkness and brilliance that it has to offer. Back then I had the time to notice, and then notate, all the noticings. Now I'm lucky if at the end of the day, I get to notice whether or not I've worn the same pants more than 2 days in a row. It always feel so good to come back to writing though, it feels like it centers me and ties up all the loose ends. Sometimes its as if the act of writing creates sense out of all the experiences in any given day.
In March I noted that life was feeling more settled for both Griffin and myself even as I was already anticipating upcoming changes.
In May, I noted that it was going to be a wild ride, that I was "abandoning fear and embracing possibility". I was right about that - it was, and has been, a wild ride since then. Tumultuous, frightening, bumpy, exhilarating! And the friends I've chosen to hold hands with on this journey have proven to be anchors and shorelines and shiny lights in the darker moments. God has put them all into the little niche's of my life that they've needed to be in, at just the right moments.
In July, I noted that life was about being valiant, about being steadfast and balanced and grateful. I alluded to struggles in my new job. It's a work in progress, that whole 'valiant' life thing. *insert ironic chuckle and an eye roll*
As the summer ended I was able to reflect on (but neglected to write about) so many wonderful experiences and moments that I was able to spend with my youngest son, all because of my new job. This time while he is still little sometimes feels so fleeting even when the days sometimes drag on endlessly. This summer allowed us time we needed to have for playing - just playing and adventuring and sharing time with each other and with my youngest daughter too. Family time. This summer was also time just for me. Time to focus on myself - to go out with friends, to dress up and put on perfume and go on a 'date' and be a grown up - because I had the time available with the new job. Precious time. I might have been producing less income and that was scary but I was so endlessly grateful that sometimes all I could repeat, over and over in my mind or under my breath, was, "thank you God, thank you God, thank you God". Money will come, and money will go, but those relationships and the investment of time that I was granted, are irreplaceable.
Then first grade started for G and all that bumpiness and exhilaration, mixed with the need for valiant and steadfast behavior, splashed with gratitude and time, all melted together and we needed to slog thru the days. We were getting into routines and making new ones and sometimes failing and sometimes rising above, with laughter, and tears all together. And then it was the end of October, and nearly headed into winter. G was a first grade boy with two missing teeth who sometimes forgot his lunchbox at school and I was working during the day and at home every evening and life felt...normal. It was a sweet time for me that was only going to get sweeter.
November was all about balance, although that is totally in hindsight! Every Thanksgiving since my divorce has been a struggle to redefine tradition and to create something of value and hope and love for my kids. Funny thing about kids is that they grow and change and leave home and end up creating some traditions of their own! This year we celebrated with a special friend and his children and mine all together. There is an awkwardness to spending a holiday as a guest - food is different, expectations are different, and blending the needs and wants of so many people all at once for a holiday can be hard for everyone, even the kids. This was so peaceful though! We all had such fun with incredible food and desserts, and crazy board games and really getting to know each other. It was an evening that left me feeling immensely thankful. Later in November I was struck hard with the realization that I am pretty alone in this journey right now and it was a painful moment, a little dark spot that reminded me how strong I can be when I have to, and how much gratitude I have for my friends, the help from my older daughter, and my faith. Balance, man... balance!
I never really feel like January is "the new year"... I always feel like the "year" is from the start of the school year and lasts until the next one starts. So January is really just a matter of learning to write the new date properly! Its a continuation of everything we started in September and so we keep plugging along, getting through the days and embracing the forward growth and the learning opportunities as they arise. The dark and dreary parts of winter are settling in now that the big holidays are over and we are a little resigned to the months ahead of cold New England. I'm leaving the job I started last spring that allowed me to work during the day but was unexpectedly not a good fit for me. In my new position, I'll be able to continue working days and will have better opportunity for additional hours and will be able to work with some old friends which brings me so much joy! I am deepening relationships, with myself and with my faith and with others as well, and I continue to try and help my little guy grow into himself and to become the whole person he is destined to be.
Like a lotus flower that blooms again each morning from the murky water, or the sunflower whose bright face follows the sun as it moves across the sky, I will continue trusting in the universe, in God, and in the continuity of balance in my life.
July 9, 2018
July 2018
Today was... a really, REALLY, shitty day.
I slept restlessly after forcing myself to turn off all electronics, lights, and sound at 10:30 pm, and then was up with the alarm at 3:45 am...because, well, WORK. That is, for all intents and purposes (or: intensive purposes; or: in tents and porpoises; if you are of those natures) a total of 5 hours and 15 minutes of actual sleep. Had I actually SLEPT, if you will. So, I maybe averaged a couple of solid hours somewhere in the middle and towards the end of all that.
When the alarm went off at 3:45 I was almost grateful for the permission to get up and out of bed. I started the day, before my feet hit the ground, thanking the universe for my job, for my physical ability to do it, for my mental ability to do it, for the sleep I got (such that it was) and beseeching the powers that be (yo God! Howya doin'??) to be with me in my day and to also be with my family, and #someonespecial. I did see a glorious sunrise on my drive into work and my heart was full. Cue the dope-slap upside my preshus lil' noggin...bless my heart!
I have a new job. Not news...but I am working a day shift, and a very EARLY day shift that is slightly outside of traditional shift hours: like all the truly imperative back door workers! I mean, do you think the actual doctors just show up at the hospital and then plan out who to operate on, who comes first, who has coverage, or who is first and who is last and who didn't show up and who showed up 2 hours early without insurance? Yeah... not a thing. So. My new job. Early. Important...ish. New skills, new management, new co workers, new...vibe. New...did I mention new management? Sigh.
It was a really, really, really shitty day. Some days are like that. Even in, oh... Canada. I mean, maybe... eh? I cried by 8:30 am; for the first time anyway. Oh Canada... do you cry that early too?
Tonight to soothe myself, I got my nails prettied up (cuz when work starts that early, you get OUT of work early also!) then picked up the babysitter (a very tolerant 13 year old whom I pay a kings ransom to) to relieve my underappreciated almost adult daughter (aka Hannah-the-Hero) and while Gman and Wonder-girl played, I made a trip to the local overpriced grocery store and got the fixin's for a special meal just for myself, and a frozen pizza for the short people. Short-er people. Just sayin'.
I sated myself on mozzarella, fresh basil, and my own homegrown tomatoes slathered in balsamic vinegar and a rich and tasty olive oil; and a deep, rich, velvety red wine blend. I ate and ate and... ate more. I licked my plate: no, really, I literally and actually and definitively "licked" my plate; because I was at home, bra-less, and in bare feet and cut off shorts... I mean, it seemed appropriate. But don't tell anyone cuz it might ruin my pristine image! And while I was at the store buying that mozzarella and the wine, I happened upon a discount florist table. *backstory ensues*
All my years in the past, all 40+++ ahem of them... I have killed, maimed, destroyed, and devastated every known houseplant. I have killed the unkillable. I have caused fatal damage to the hearty, to the tolerant, to the...yea even to the false and silk variety. I am ashamed. However, since my grand move of late to this odd second floor/attic level 2 story apartment, I have managed to not just keep, but cause to THRIVE, a handful of destitute and sad flora and fauna. No, I'm serious, all Orchids aside, it must be the exact placement of my dining room window whereupon a handful of previously decrepit (and now thriving) plantlings sit - because I am actually keeping foliage alive and even watching them GROW.
So tonight, in my despair, while mozzarella and wine purchases were happening, I also purchased a new bit of greenery. It was a slightly disheveled little wilty bit, with a tag declaring it was a "Prayer Plant". How could I resist? It was less than a gallon of milk, less even than the bit of Mozzarella I was splurging on. It was a Prayer Plant... was there any other logical option but "purchase"???
I bought it.
I named it.
It is, thus forth, "Lucy".
Oh right, did I mention we'd recently watched the Chronicles of Narnia? No? oh, huh, well... we did. And so... Lucy, Lucy the Valiant. Lucy, who wants to be beautiful and powerful... and actually IS although she just doesn't know it. So today, to offset the shittiness and general crapola, I am focusing on Lucy the Valiant, my newest resident and bit of joy...and my personal goal.
I am focusing on valiant-cy. Is that a word? I say it should be...valiancy. I will be valiant. I will be quiet and determined (although sometimes weepy!) and I will hold growth and joy in my heart. Well, as often as I can at least! And as I bid this shitty day goodbye, I remain steadfastly secure in my gratitude for my job, and for the side hustle that has me transcribing late into the night, and still asking for protection and blessings on my family and on #someonespecial, and trusting the universe (yo! God! you there?) to provide.
Lucy and I, and Gman and Wonder-girl, and Hannah-the-hero all wish you at least a moment of Valiancy, of truth, of bravery, of beauty and trust and glorious sunrise and tangy balsamic vinegar and sweet home grown tomato...of balance. Go... in peace, with God, in light, and in knowledge you are covered by Lucy's infinite love.
I slept restlessly after forcing myself to turn off all electronics, lights, and sound at 10:30 pm, and then was up with the alarm at 3:45 am...because, well, WORK. That is, for all intents and purposes (or: intensive purposes; or: in tents and porpoises; if you are of those natures) a total of 5 hours and 15 minutes of actual sleep. Had I actually SLEPT, if you will. So, I maybe averaged a couple of solid hours somewhere in the middle and towards the end of all that.
When the alarm went off at 3:45 I was almost grateful for the permission to get up and out of bed. I started the day, before my feet hit the ground, thanking the universe for my job, for my physical ability to do it, for my mental ability to do it, for the sleep I got (such that it was) and beseeching the powers that be (yo God! Howya doin'??) to be with me in my day and to also be with my family, and #someonespecial. I did see a glorious sunrise on my drive into work and my heart was full. Cue the dope-slap upside my preshus lil' noggin...bless my heart!
I have a new job. Not news...but I am working a day shift, and a very EARLY day shift that is slightly outside of traditional shift hours: like all the truly imperative back door workers! I mean, do you think the actual doctors just show up at the hospital and then plan out who to operate on, who comes first, who has coverage, or who is first and who is last and who didn't show up and who showed up 2 hours early without insurance? Yeah... not a thing. So. My new job. Early. Important...ish. New skills, new management, new co workers, new...vibe. New...did I mention new management? Sigh.
It was a really, really, really shitty day. Some days are like that. Even in, oh... Canada. I mean, maybe... eh? I cried by 8:30 am; for the first time anyway. Oh Canada... do you cry that early too?
Tonight to soothe myself, I got my nails prettied up (cuz when work starts that early, you get OUT of work early also!) then picked up the babysitter (a very tolerant 13 year old whom I pay a kings ransom to) to relieve my underappreciated almost adult daughter (aka Hannah-the-Hero) and while Gman and Wonder-girl played, I made a trip to the local overpriced grocery store and got the fixin's for a special meal just for myself, and a frozen pizza for the short people. Short-er people. Just sayin'.
I sated myself on mozzarella, fresh basil, and my own homegrown tomatoes slathered in balsamic vinegar and a rich and tasty olive oil; and a deep, rich, velvety red wine blend. I ate and ate and... ate more. I licked my plate: no, really, I literally and actually and definitively "licked" my plate; because I was at home, bra-less, and in bare feet and cut off shorts... I mean, it seemed appropriate. But don't tell anyone cuz it might ruin my pristine image! And while I was at the store buying that mozzarella and the wine, I happened upon a discount florist table. *backstory ensues*
All my years in the past, all 40+++ ahem of them... I have killed, maimed, destroyed, and devastated every known houseplant. I have killed the unkillable. I have caused fatal damage to the hearty, to the tolerant, to the...yea even to the false and silk variety. I am ashamed. However, since my grand move of late to this odd second floor/attic level 2 story apartment, I have managed to not just keep, but cause to THRIVE, a handful of destitute and sad flora and fauna. No, I'm serious, all Orchids aside, it must be the exact placement of my dining room window whereupon a handful of previously decrepit (and now thriving) plantlings sit - because I am actually keeping foliage alive and even watching them GROW.
So tonight, in my despair, while mozzarella and wine purchases were happening, I also purchased a new bit of greenery. It was a slightly disheveled little wilty bit, with a tag declaring it was a "Prayer Plant". How could I resist? It was less than a gallon of milk, less even than the bit of Mozzarella I was splurging on. It was a Prayer Plant... was there any other logical option but "purchase"???
I bought it.
I named it.
It is, thus forth, "Lucy".
Oh right, did I mention we'd recently watched the Chronicles of Narnia? No? oh, huh, well... we did. And so... Lucy, Lucy the Valiant. Lucy, who wants to be beautiful and powerful... and actually IS although she just doesn't know it. So today, to offset the shittiness and general crapola, I am focusing on Lucy the Valiant, my newest resident and bit of joy...and my personal goal.
I am focusing on valiant-cy. Is that a word? I say it should be...valiancy. I will be valiant. I will be quiet and determined (although sometimes weepy!) and I will hold growth and joy in my heart. Well, as often as I can at least! And as I bid this shitty day goodbye, I remain steadfastly secure in my gratitude for my job, and for the side hustle that has me transcribing late into the night, and still asking for protection and blessings on my family and on #someonespecial, and trusting the universe (yo! God! you there?) to provide.
Lucy and I, and Gman and Wonder-girl, and Hannah-the-hero all wish you at least a moment of Valiancy, of truth, of bravery, of beauty and trust and glorious sunrise and tangy balsamic vinegar and sweet home grown tomato...of balance. Go... in peace, with God, in light, and in knowledge you are covered by Lucy's infinite love.
August 1, 2017
August again; 1 year later
Last year I was just turning in my badge at work, cleaning off my desk, and preparing to leave my full time job to stay home with G after what had been a very hard year for him.
The past 12 months have been filled with journeys and travels I never planned on or prepared for, some I didn't even know I was taking until I'd come back, changed by the entire experience. G has traveled his own path as well, with tremendous growth. This past year has allowed both of us to leave behind the anxiety and insecurities we brought into it. We both are more settled, calmer at our core, and stronger. Sitting down to write this feels less like chalking up another month gone by, and more like having a whole new blog to write. There is excitement ahead for both of us and I fully intend for both of us to embrace all of it.
Today I registered the Gman for Kindergarten. It was a hard decision for me to make and I fretted over it for months. Having just turned 5, I could have held him back for a year to let him grow into himself a little more. He still struggles with good social skills among his peers but this boy is also reading, doing math, and his busy busy brain is bored. I can't really teach him the social skills he will learn in school, and the child wants desperately to go. So he'll go. Today we drove to his school, a place where he has gone to play in the playground and to ride his bike around the walkways and has some familiarity with. He was so excited, and yes, nervous too. It felt very anticlimactic to me, personally, after all the worrying I'd done. We walked in, met the principal, handed over our paperwork, and that was it. Done. G skipped back to the car, buckled up his own car seat straps, and chatted all the way home like he usually does. It felt so normal. That is the life we are excited to have - normal.
I had a hard adjustment coming back from Hawaii. It wasn't just the post-vacation blues, it was more. I was heartbroken, and missing my family. The time that I'd spent with my brothers, my nephew, and some old friends, had made me so acutely aware of what I was missing in my life. It also made me equally aware of what my future was looking like and how much I did not enjoy the view. I felt very unbalanced, very lonely, and shaken to the core with all the uncertainties I was facing in my life. It took some hard work with a great therapist, and I'm pretty sure I caused more than one of my friends to actually roll their eyes by the time I worked through a lot of old trauma as well as a whole new crop of fears, but I did it. I came through a really broken heart and fearful spirit to find a new path for myself. A journey that I am choosing deliberately.
There will always be sadness when I look back at my past, and letting go of hope leaves a discomfort that I'd rather not experience, but none of it has the power to stop me from making a future and being hopeful, unless I let it. I'm not willing to let it derail me though. I can have both: I can feel sad, and I can feel happy and hopeful. It is, as usual, about balance.
It was a long year. A year of battling demons and I wouldn't trade the demons we battled because the lessons we learned were worth it. Just the same? I'm glad to close the door on the past 12 months, and grateful to fling open the door and welcome in everything that the next 12 months will bring. I can't wait to write about it!
The past 12 months have been filled with journeys and travels I never planned on or prepared for, some I didn't even know I was taking until I'd come back, changed by the entire experience. G has traveled his own path as well, with tremendous growth. This past year has allowed both of us to leave behind the anxiety and insecurities we brought into it. We both are more settled, calmer at our core, and stronger. Sitting down to write this feels less like chalking up another month gone by, and more like having a whole new blog to write. There is excitement ahead for both of us and I fully intend for both of us to embrace all of it.
Today I registered the Gman for Kindergarten. It was a hard decision for me to make and I fretted over it for months. Having just turned 5, I could have held him back for a year to let him grow into himself a little more. He still struggles with good social skills among his peers but this boy is also reading, doing math, and his busy busy brain is bored. I can't really teach him the social skills he will learn in school, and the child wants desperately to go. So he'll go. Today we drove to his school, a place where he has gone to play in the playground and to ride his bike around the walkways and has some familiarity with. He was so excited, and yes, nervous too. It felt very anticlimactic to me, personally, after all the worrying I'd done. We walked in, met the principal, handed over our paperwork, and that was it. Done. G skipped back to the car, buckled up his own car seat straps, and chatted all the way home like he usually does. It felt so normal. That is the life we are excited to have - normal.
I had a hard adjustment coming back from Hawaii. It wasn't just the post-vacation blues, it was more. I was heartbroken, and missing my family. The time that I'd spent with my brothers, my nephew, and some old friends, had made me so acutely aware of what I was missing in my life. It also made me equally aware of what my future was looking like and how much I did not enjoy the view. I felt very unbalanced, very lonely, and shaken to the core with all the uncertainties I was facing in my life. It took some hard work with a great therapist, and I'm pretty sure I caused more than one of my friends to actually roll their eyes by the time I worked through a lot of old trauma as well as a whole new crop of fears, but I did it. I came through a really broken heart and fearful spirit to find a new path for myself. A journey that I am choosing deliberately.
There will always be sadness when I look back at my past, and letting go of hope leaves a discomfort that I'd rather not experience, but none of it has the power to stop me from making a future and being hopeful, unless I let it. I'm not willing to let it derail me though. I can have both: I can feel sad, and I can feel happy and hopeful. It is, as usual, about balance.
It was a long year. A year of battling demons and I wouldn't trade the demons we battled because the lessons we learned were worth it. Just the same? I'm glad to close the door on the past 12 months, and grateful to fling open the door and welcome in everything that the next 12 months will bring. I can't wait to write about it!
June 5, 2017
June 2017: I shouldn't have blinked
He isn't 5 for another 16 days but he's already shed all of his babyness and is a full blown "kid". He grew a full two inches taller since January. I can barely carry him anymore with his long legs all dangly and getting tangled up in mine. He likes privacy in the bathroom now. He makes fart jokes. He reads street signs and labels and instructions (but only when he wants to), he can look at the calendar and know how many days are left in the week or the month. When we go to the doctor for check ups, he walks right up and gives his name and date of birth to the receptionist. When he laughs, it is a wild, full bellied, bent over double kind of laugh. His arm will be in a cast for another 4 weeks but he's already riding his scooter and running down trails and playing mini-golf...because he isn't a baby, he's a boy. He made his own peanut butter sandwich the other day.
I thought that I would be ready for this. I thought that I was just holding on for this exact moment when he didn't need me so much and wasn't sucking the soul out of me with his demands. I thought that I just couldn't wait until he was a real kid and not a baby... but it happened so quickly. I think it happened when I blinked. I might need to avoid blinking for awhile - I don't want to blink and find out he's driving the car and is taller than me. It feels like it could happen that way.
I started this blog as a written journey of what it was like to give up my full time job and stay at home with this wild boy. I thought it would be about saving his spirit, about his journey through a trauma back into wholeness. I didn't have a plan for what to do with it after G was well and whole. I never even wrote as much as I meant to from the start! I also didn't plan that it was going to be about my own journey. I didn't even realize I had a journey to go through. I was so fully unprepared to embark on a journey of my own, that just like I blinked and found my baby had turned into a boy, I blinked and found myself right in the middle of a life I didn't know I was going to be in, how I got here, or where I'm supposed to go next. One day I was in Hawaii on vacation with my child, and a week later I was sitting in a vast wilderness of complicated emotions and trauma and brokenness all of my own.
I try to focus on how the universe brings balance to my life in so many ways. I feel like its just how my life has been cared for by God (or whatever universal vibe you might want to call it). Suddenly though, I was smack dab in a place where all the balance had shifted in such a way that it left me spinning, sideways, tipped over, and most definitely unbalanced. A friend told me some theories show that the universe tends toward chaos and that maintaining order (or balance) actually requires effort. Huh. I had to ponder that one for awhile. It makes sense that to create balance you might have to put forth energy to offset the chaos, but I've always felt that the balance occurring in my life was a gift for me to embrace. Then I blinked.
I'm a little lost right now, a little adrift, and trying to look for balance, or to create my own balance even. I have another thought though; maybe I'm approaching it wrong. Maybe its not so much about trying to find or create balance, but about allowing time to pass and shift and for the balance to occur on it's own. Possibly I've become a little too used to things happening when I want them too, or when I make them happen, and not enough accustomed to waiting it out. There is a lesson there, I just have to pay attention to it. I'll try not to blink and miss it.
I thought that I would be ready for this. I thought that I was just holding on for this exact moment when he didn't need me so much and wasn't sucking the soul out of me with his demands. I thought that I just couldn't wait until he was a real kid and not a baby... but it happened so quickly. I think it happened when I blinked. I might need to avoid blinking for awhile - I don't want to blink and find out he's driving the car and is taller than me. It feels like it could happen that way.
I started this blog as a written journey of what it was like to give up my full time job and stay at home with this wild boy. I thought it would be about saving his spirit, about his journey through a trauma back into wholeness. I didn't have a plan for what to do with it after G was well and whole. I never even wrote as much as I meant to from the start! I also didn't plan that it was going to be about my own journey. I didn't even realize I had a journey to go through. I was so fully unprepared to embark on a journey of my own, that just like I blinked and found my baby had turned into a boy, I blinked and found myself right in the middle of a life I didn't know I was going to be in, how I got here, or where I'm supposed to go next. One day I was in Hawaii on vacation with my child, and a week later I was sitting in a vast wilderness of complicated emotions and trauma and brokenness all of my own.
I try to focus on how the universe brings balance to my life in so many ways. I feel like its just how my life has been cared for by God (or whatever universal vibe you might want to call it). Suddenly though, I was smack dab in a place where all the balance had shifted in such a way that it left me spinning, sideways, tipped over, and most definitely unbalanced. A friend told me some theories show that the universe tends toward chaos and that maintaining order (or balance) actually requires effort. Huh. I had to ponder that one for awhile. It makes sense that to create balance you might have to put forth energy to offset the chaos, but I've always felt that the balance occurring in my life was a gift for me to embrace. Then I blinked.
I'm a little lost right now, a little adrift, and trying to look for balance, or to create my own balance even. I have another thought though; maybe I'm approaching it wrong. Maybe its not so much about trying to find or create balance, but about allowing time to pass and shift and for the balance to occur on it's own. Possibly I've become a little too used to things happening when I want them too, or when I make them happen, and not enough accustomed to waiting it out. There is a lesson there, I just have to pay attention to it. I'll try not to blink and miss it.
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