I started this new day with quite a long conversation with my brother, who I always say gets trapped in his own mind most of the time. He lives in the past, he lives in the future, and has ample "think time", which isn't always good. He thinks about what he could have done, should have done, but I must say, he is getting better. His mind, though, like all of ours, can take us places we don't need to go, or it can create situations that are not always true, based on perceptions or perspectives of others, or even of ourselves. We talked about a lot of things and he, as always, gave ME something to think about, too. We mostly talked about the lessons of life, especially of late, and in particular since Allison left us to reach her eternal home. David shared with me how he likes it that I really do live in the "now" and that when he is really "down", he can count on me to inspire. Little does he know that he often inspires me! His lifestyle has never been what I would have chosen, but I have tried to recognize that it IS his choice and that he is who he is...he has a heart of gold, loves his sisters, children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews and all assorted others who move in and out of his life. What he shared with me this morning was that he likes the new me (I'm paraphrasing, I think he said he likes me:), a person not focused on the future, not on a personal and professional mission, a person who has time for anyone who needs an ear or advice, a person no longer ruled by the Franklin Planner. Naturally, that caused me a little regret, but it was who I was, the organizer, the planner, the facilitator, the goals and targets I had set for myself were being accomplished. I was privileged and blessed, and still am, even in broken times. At any rate, when I thought of what David said about me living in the now, I am happy that is really true. I think I really embraced that concept out of survival mode when Allison was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer. The curve balls never, ever stopped for eleven straight weeks, and since her passing, no minute is the same, no day is ever chartered, no course remains straight. Naturally, I do still host social events, have lunch or dinner with friends, hold family dinners, and other somewhat "normal" things I once did. But I cannot tell you, any longer, where I will be on what day and at what time. I kept a very tight schedule, somewhat due to my profession as a school principal, somewhat because I am just like that! When David says he has noticed a change, it helps to know that I am making my way. I don't always see it that way. I look in the mirror and I do not see what was once there, I see pain and fatigue and sorrow. I don't see the laughter and joy that others may see. I see a face with penetrating, green eyes that have been opened wider than I ever imagined, I know things I would have never envisioned, and I feel things that are not meant to be felt. I grip at grief each and every minute and I fear growing old and being defined as a mother who has lost a child. I don't look back and I don't look ahead, it is far too painful and complicated. So, I live for now. I embrace the moment I am in and if I have to ask God to get me to the next minute, I do just that. I don't think about the hours of the day and I don't think about how I am supposed to be at this stage. I have learned that this spiral I am weaving my way through is just that, a web that never ends, but changes and evolves. I am learning to walk again, to feel again, to laugh again, to possibly find joy again. I am learning to be a new me and I do my best to NOT let my mind take over. God has blessed me with the opportunity to embrace this change and make it count, for Him, for Allison, and for the living. Like a child, I will stumble and fall as I make my way, I will understand that for each of us, the walk of grief is different, the journey of life is complex, no two of us will respond the same. There is no time frame but our own. And, the deeper promise is that it is all temporal. God promises in the book of Corinthians that things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal. That concept comforts me in times of darkness, in times when I do not know how I will go on, whether in grief, or in these shaky times. For some I know, paying the mortgage, car payment, tending to the sick, facing life threatening illnesses, raising the children create intense challenges. In those times, as in grief, there does not seem to be a light at the end of the tunnel. But there is, and when we live through and past some of those moments, it is beautiful to know God loves us enough to provide what we need, even when we ourselves do not know what that is...
David, my brother, you gave me a lot to think about this day, as always, and I guess I can honestly say, we are learning the lessons, bit by bit, piece by piece. If we had it all right and correct and in order, there would be nothing to live for, so here's to this day, and all the days that follow.
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