Yesterday was 2 years without him… I couldn’t even address it yesterday. It was sharp and unbearable to even think about. Sometimes there aren’t words… sometimes you just have to cry alone in a parking lot and listen to the rain on the roof of your truck. Sometimes you just have to pull yourself together and remind yourself that cowgirls don’t cry…. But we do. A lot. 💔
I know I keep going back to this topic but this time of year it hits me right in the gut. I’ve spent hours tracking down vintage decor from years gone by and every piece takes my breath away when I find it because the memories flood my whole world.
Gazing at the Christmas lights in our window and I picture that holly tree outside my childhood living room window and the single strand of Christmas lights my dad put up.
Every Christmas cookie transports me back to that little farmhouse kitchen. I’m right there warm from the roaring fire in the wood stove decorating gingerbread men with my mom. Coconut hair and smartie buttons every year. Those sugar cookies with the Nutty club green and red fancy sugar glisten in my mind. Mincemeat tarts and platters of cheese, garlic sausage with ritz crackers look so fancy in my memory.
Watching Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer in my pj’s on the living room floor. I think I can still feel that worn brown carpet if I close my eyes and try hard enough. That tiny living room felt huge when I was small. The worn tinsel garland hung ceiling corner to corner. Stockings thumb-tacked to that wood panel wall. Santa knew to use the front door because our chimney was certain death as we didn’t have a fireplace. I know Santa knew because big brother Earl assured me every year.
The coffee table always looked festive with a bowl of Christmas candy, a fancy starched dollie and our hobnail flocked poinsettia candle holder. It wasn’t much but oh how I looked forward to helping put those decorations out! The fresh cut tree in the corner was always too big for that room! Back then I didn’t know our home wasn’t fancy. I didn’t know it was too small. It was home and it was welcoming. It was lived in and Christmas made it feel even cozier.
It’s so magical I keep going back there in my dreams because nostalgia thankfully paints over the ugly parts when it comes to take you on a trip down that candy cane lane.
What I wouldn’t give to have one more Christmas in that old farmhouse. One more batch of cookies with Mom. One more trip to cut down a tree with Dad and one more reassuring conversation with my big brother that Santa won’t slide into the wood stove!
I’ll be home for Christmas if only in my dreams.
Three years ago today I held her hand as she left this world. I listened as she took her last breath. There hasn’t been a day since then that I haven’t thought about her. Her favourite things have become my favourite things because they remind me of her. I find myself buying things in the grocery store she bought. I find myself ordering the food she loved in restaurants. I buy myself the flowers and I eat the cake because of her. I try my hardest to bring Jacob happiness and give him little treats the way she did for me. I carry everything about her real deep in my chest.
After school gingerbread decorating with Christmas royalty!! Oh how I pray these memories stick with these kids and some day when they are in their 40’s they think back on these moments and smile. I hope they feel the nostalgia…. I hope when im gone and they miss me that they hold these memories close
When you’re pregnant people are quick to share advice and tips. When you have a new born everyone has a sure fire way to help you cope! When you reach the toddler years the other Mom’s are quick to share stories about what is working and what isn’t.
But what nobody talks about is how it’s going to feel when you realize your little isn’t little anymore. No one talks about the last time they rocked their little to sleep because the thing about last times is we generally don’t know it’s the last time.
No one tells you the sting of going from a moment of elation watching your 9 year old run in a touchdown to the utter gut punch moment of realizing your 9 year old is now big enough and strong enough to be excelling in a full contact sport.
No one tells you about the day their little strolled into the kitchen and got their own snack because they don’t need to rely on the grown ups for simple things anymore.
Nobody tells you.
Nobody talks about it.
We all experience it over and over tho. We take it in stride, We absorb it in quiet. We wipe away the tear that spilled out as we try to catch our breath. We endure it alone, in our way. But we don’t talk about it.
Nothing slows down ….. my baby moves faster everyday and tho he’s still right here he’s metaphorically miles away all the time. He’s finding his path, he’s finding his strength, he’s finding himself.
No one told me how to swallow the bittersweet taste of watching my only baby become a big kid.
No one told me that my proudest days of watching him succeed would come with nights laying awake wondering how it all went down so fast.
Time is betraying me while it simultaneously holds open doors of adventure, growth, and wisdom for Jacob. Time is stealing him from me and me from him.
Nobody talks about it because it’s life’s greatest hurt.
On the eve of 42… Goodbye Cheers to 41… a year of coping, grieving, and finding my path towards healing. I’m so thankful for the little family I love and to my friends for helping hold me up when I stumbled this year!! I’m so thankful to my core crew who encouraged me to find my peace and see the joy in rediscovering adventure 🩷🩵🩷
I’m so thankful to those who see the best in me even when I’m struggling.
I’m so thankful to the few I’ve grown close to this year and the safe place they offer me when I’m struggling and when I’m thriving.
I’m so thankful for so much!
Odd flashes of light that don’t make any sense.
When you think you’ve got the grief handled it rears its head after a week of happiness. It knocks you down when you feel like yourself. You can’t float because it has a way of taking the wind from your sails and the worst part is you can’t figure out why it comes like this.
I was told the best thing to do is sit with the grief. Feel it. Embrace it. I can tell you at 5 am just days before my 42 birthday I don’t want to feel it.. I want to shake it. I want to feel like I did on better days this week. I want the sunshine to come back. I want to drink coffee with people I love. I want to laugh. I want to feel the sparks of life. I want to feel like me.
I think in reality it never goes away. Grief is like a chronic illness we will live with the rest of our lives. Sometimes the pain subsides but the symptoms always come back.
I can tell you it’s shitty.
I guess maybe the grief is a reminder to really embrace the good stuff. A reminder to really hold on to the people who make you feel loved and safe. A reminder to sit down and listen to those stories, Really hear the words. Memorize the sound of their voice. Trace the shape of those faces into your mind as you listen to them talk.
None of this life is anything we get to keep forever… Embrace the little moments, hug a little longer. Let the sunshine days recharge your soul so you’re strong enough to weather the mornings you wake up with dread.
It’s Bandit’s rescue-aversary!! 2 years ago today this beautiful girl and her brothers were rescued in Mexico and everyday I’m eternally grateful that this girl is my girl.
I truly don’t know what I’d do without this sweet soul by my side!! I’ve never experienced a bond with another creature (animal or human) like the bond I share with her. She was my soft spot to land during my profound season of loss. Through a season of gut wrenching heartbreak she found her way to me and was there to love. Without words she’s helped paw my heart back together. Without words she reminds me daily what love means. She reminds me to find time to play, to smell the smells and to love our boys with annoying enthusiasm. She is without a doubt one of the bright spots in my life that keep me going.
A quiet breakfast alone on what would have been Dad’s 79th Birthday. My main reflection is how thankful I am for all those mornings he sat across from me and we had breakfast together. In the last two years those breakfasts were always his best moments of the day. Our breakfast conversations always had moments and meaning I will treasure forever. Even tho those two years were the absolute hardest of both of our lives I’m so thankful he was here at home with us. I’m so thankful for all those quiet breakfasts together. Happy heavenly Birthday Dad!
