So here is the thing. It really is A OK. Even if you are not ok, it's ok to not be.

It is that time of year we, (usually the female persuasion, sorry guys but I know the majority of my guys leave it up to the gals) try to put way to much on our calendars. This party, that party, shopping here, shopping there, bake these cookies, finish up these handmades, decorate!!!! You get the point, our calendars are so filled with STUFF that we have little to no time to enjoy any of it. Guys again you don't count, you wouldn't enjoy half of that if you DID have the time.

So here you are, running around like a chicken who is on the menu for Sunday dinner, and what do you get out of it? Tired, run down, exhausted, stressed! What an excellent gift to receive!! Not. What is worse, we are giving it to each other with little to no concern! That just don't sounds very Christmasy to me. 

As if that insanity is not enough, lets throw in a dash of grief and depression, you know to mix things up a bit. (adding you guys back in now) Many of us have a layer of sadness during the holidays, we miss a mother who enjoyed Christmas, we miss a sibling that used to share in the joy of Santa with us, we miss a friend, a husband, there is a moment in the hustle and bustle that a tear wells in your eye and a breath catches in your throat as you wish just for a moment they were there, then most move on with a smile of remembrance. As parents of children who are spending their holiday season in Heaven it isn't a moment, usually that tear wells the week before Thanksgiving and slowly slides down our cheeks until some time in mid January. There isn't a moment that is not clouded by a sadness that only we could understand, even in the happy moments the longing of spending just one more Christmas morning with our child.  From seeing their bright face as they rush in to see what Santa has delivered, to hearing their cheery voices sing Christmas songs of days gone by, the memories flood our hearts. For myself, this will be the 9th and 6th Christmas without Little Dustin and Deanna, it is a time frame in which some believe I should have moved on, that there should be more happiness than sadness, this is just not the case.

I don't know if a time comes where we as Angel Parents can say with all certainty that we have more happy in us than sadness, I can only speak for myself and right now I can tell you that the smile you see the majority of the time is a plastered falseness that is only there to get me through that moment in time so that someone else does not feel awkward.  Here I stand with emotions the size of mountains in me and yet my first instinct is to fake it for you, because in this lot there just is no fake it until you make it.  In the last year alone I have been called psychotic, selfish, deplorable, just to name a few and those were just in the few moments that I stood up for myself, can you imagine what the words would be if I didn't wear the mask to face the masses?

I saw a Facebook meme the other day, it had this beautiful woman looking into a mirror with this creature looking back at her, the quote was imagine if mirrors showed your character. I thought then what would mine look like. I didn't think it would look beautiful, not because I am a bad person, but because I no longer feel like a person. I imagined it to be the reflection of a gigantic heart with a fantastic dark hole right in the center. My heart is huge and as if the grief of my own isn't enough I take on the pain and problems of anyone near me.  You may be thinking what a beautiful image to have of of ones self, possibly, but the heart is tired, what is visible is worn out, and there are hands grabbing at it, and some punching it and those are in the way of the people trying so desperately to hug it.  Usher in Christmas and there stands the Grinch mocking my heart, look at all the pain, look at all you have lost, look at those you couldn't help, or save, look at those that hate you, look at your failures, look at the past, look at the fact that you could not save your own children....

Let that sink in.

That no matter how big my heart was, I couldn't save him... I couldn't save her.. These are my burdens to bear, and I don't think that any amount of time will heal or fill that hole.

My point... to all of you.. YES ALL OF YOU, regardless of your source of sadness, it could be your first of 100th Christmas with out your mother, or you maybe facing your child's addiction, you may quietly watching the love of your life self destruct unable to find a way to help them, your friend maybe in trouble and you can't find the right words....  it is ok to just not be ok. If you find yourself overwhelmed, stressed, sad, grieving, please know you are not alone.  There is someone out there who understands that the pressures we put on our selves are overwhelming and at times unbearable.  Let someone you love know how your heart feels, that you just need a moment to gather yourself and your feels, even if that moment stretches into a day, a week...

Take care of you, before the hole is your whole.

Peace and Love
Re

I made a mistake almost 8 months ago. I stopped writing. I threw words and clips and phrases onto Facebook in hopes that it would satisfy this pain in my heart because who wants to read these sad, upsetting posts all the time. No one that is who. (keep in mind that was in my head and my head is not even close to my friend)

I don't think I ever just posted the bad, I think I posted the triumphs and the successes too but for the last 6 months I forgot that. I just remembered the sad. I felt like I had said all I could say about child loss and the journey that follows. The grief was going in a circle so no one needed to hear that, but wait, did they?  Life is still marching on and the journey continues, it didn't just suddenly end at her 5th angelversary, but I thought, oh how I thought, you should be past this, just stop. So I did. Now here I am still having gone through 8 months of hills and valleys and still have this overwhelming emptiness that sometimes only my words in print can fill.

What prompted me to write again? Probably an unlikely source but it was a video about a quadruple amputee.  Above the post said something close to "so you think losing weight is the hardest thing you will ever do, watch this"  I watched. While my heart went out to this guy, and so many other soldiers like him the post made me mad, the video made me mad, and sad, and frustrated. "Welcome to the club" some other soldier says to him, in response he replies "I don't want to be in your club!". How many times have I said I don't want to be in this club, this horrendous place where you don't live without your legs, or your arms, but you live with a ginormous hole in your heart the size of all the stars in the sky, you know, one that no one sees.  The whole jest of the video was that this guy didn't quit and ended up helping others through his pain and loss. 

If you saw him, you too would be in awe, hell I was. If you saw me, if you didn't know me, you would think "Jesus.. what is wrong with her, she is constantly sad and looking like some kind of Wal Mart reject." or how about, "She has been working out for 6 years and she is still fat, unhealthy, and in the back of the pack". If you saw him struggle to get up and get dressed, you would again be in awe of the strength and determination it took to not ask for help and to do it himself, if you saw one of us struggle, you know one of us from my club, one would probably think "She got up just fine yesterday what the hell is wrong with her today".  If you saw him put on his legs and work out one would probably think "whoa look at him power through" if you saw me it would probably be "why is she so lazy, she isn't really trying".

Over the last few months many things have happened in my life, some good, some bad, some just normal but life still just happened.

I lost a dog, yes I have every right to say I lost a dog, she was part of my life for a year, I fed her, snuggled her, cared for her, I cried many buckets of tears, in the end I was prepared and ready for her transition across the bridge so as to end her pain. I miss her dearly and still to this very minute can't see out of my front windows because I refuse to clean her nose prints, because I didn't just lose a dog, I lost a friend, she was a good friend.

My beloved "Diddy" had a stroke. He is fine! He is right back to his healthy, fox chasing, sports watching, tv breaking self, but those few days were an unbelievable blow.  While he was still with me physically for a week or so my best friend was gone. The stories were gone. The random chats about nothing were gone. It was like putting on your favorite record and carefully placing the needle to the vinyl and finding all the words were not there all of a sudden. You were grateful to have the album but incredibly saddened at the loss of words. I can't thank everyone enough for being there, for not only my dad, but also my brother and I as we struggled through the uncharted waters. We are beyond happy that this chapter had a happy ending and that all is right in the world of Hounddog.

I chose to bring peace and order back to my home through a series of chaotic events. That is all that needs to be said about that, I sleep very well at night now.

I made a crazy 34 hour road trip with my Daddy to bring home my newest family member, she deserves her own post and will get one soon.

I bought a jeep, my dream ride, I completed my Spartan trifecta, people were born... people died... I think you are getting the point. Life just goes on. Sounds so normal doesn't it? Or does it.

Imagine, going through the journey of all of this, with a prosthetic heart, because that is what it is like. Getting up in the morning and shoving a hunk of plastic in your chest, so that you can stand the normalcy of the life that is just moving right along regardless of the pain that you still feel.

I couldn't have made it this far without the poster of the video. He is one of my dearest friends, he has supported me, and triumphed with me, he wouldn't want you to know it but he has shed a tear or two.  I am not concerned if he will be upset about this post because he is one of the handful of people in my life that remember on a daily basis that I am not a whole person any more, and just does his damnedest to keep me upright.

So what is the point then you ask? It was actually one of many.

First off, it reminded me, of something my dear friend Tater said to me in the wake of my dad's, "thing" as he calls he. We were talking about Deanna and he said, "We all have different ways of dealing with things, your Dad he stays strong, you, you write about how you feel". I had no idea Tater even knew that I wrote, apparently my dad had told him about it.  This guy in the video he ends up doing some great things to help people, me my great things are my words, I sometimes forget that. Tater, I love ya buddy, thank you for all the things.

Second, it reminded me that since that day I have had learn to live life completely differently. While I don't have plastic and metal to lean on when I can't walk on my own, I have an army of the dearest of family and friends that are the prosthetic of my heart.  It would take a week to list you all, and I think you all know who you are.  Ed, Amanda, Chris, Kami, Phyl, Todd, Drake, Mama and Daddy... thank you for being pieces of the support I need daily. Everyone else, believe me I have not forgotten you, I know I have a network of catchers if I fall past the front lines and you are all loved so dearly.

Third, it reminded me that not all things are visible, that pain and struggle can be hidden, so maybe that chick you see crying in the grocery store isn't just having a mental break, maybe she saw something that reminded her of her daughter, or maybe she is in chronic pain from an illness no one knows she has, or maybe she buried her best friend, or maybe she is struggling so hard at single mom'ing, or maybe she is in fact having a mental break, either way its time to support each other, because without badges, no one knows the struggle behind the person.

And lastly, if I don't help myself by writing, the support that I obtain from others doesn't go any farther than me and to me that is a waste of love.

While I still may be fat, I still may be at the back, I still may cry, I still may hurt, I still may not get out of bed every morning, here I am, doing the hardest thing for me,  the next thing. The next thing will always be the hardest.

My gift to myself, my words.

Peace and Love
Re

I imagine this is what my guardian angel looks like. Just exhausted from the roller coast. "Oh hey look she's got it... to crap.. nope she is standing on the edge of the end."

It is so hard this time of year, every year I start with out with the best of intentions of celebrating De's life but the truth is death over shadows it all. The utter failure that completely consumes my heart is just truthfully indescribable. The best way I have found is your heart becomes so full of grief and anguish the only thing left to do is scream because if not it feels as if your heart will surely explode.

Five years I have struggled with the guilt of being a horrible mom, to knowing in my heart that it was me who was calling her at that exact moment, knowing my life has amounted to not much of anything since she has been gone, filled with sadness and fat. Yes I consider my weight a failure, because I had been fighting so long before the accident and I just gave up and now I can't seem to get over the hill of piled on pounds again. She wouldn't be proud. People tell me all the time she would be.. she wouldn't. I failed her in so many ways in life and in death. There is no way to fix it.

I still hear the words of that woman who came to my mothers house saying my mom was the only mother Deanna knew, that she never understood why I didn't love her or want her and just basically how horrible of a human being I was. They echo.. over and over .. even all these years later. I asked my mother once if she thought Deanna actually said those things. She said yes... that is was probably about attention but chances are she said it. All those years I didn't think they ever felt unwanted, I did what I did so they would have better not because they weren't wanted but because I wanted better for them than me.

This failing at life thing didn't just start 5 years ago, I am pretty sure it started 46 years ago. Can you imagine hating yourself so badly that there are more moments than not that you feel like you deserve this broken heart. That you have messed up so much in life that this is your punishment. That you suck as a daughter, a mother, a wife, a sister, a friend so badly that instead of being able to just die and have it all melt away that this... this is your lot. The endless am I going to make it through today without a melt down? How much longer can I fake this smile? Can I even pretend anymore? I have learned to hide it so well I don't even think the closest even see the cracks and breaks anymore.  How much more can my heart hurt?

Yesterday I lashed out at someone that I swore I would not, for weeks and weeks now I have watched as something so minor was blown into full on tragedy and even as I explained that no she was incredibly blessed and to please reconsider when posting anything short of her multitudes of blessings and the memories she is making with her children and to stop tarnishing it with minor set backs as life altering and ending events. I was met with that she didn't share the gruesome details ... gruesome details? You want gruesome... imagine the images in my head. Imagine the video of made up moments as your child spends her last minutes, string them together and load them into your brain on repeat with no pause. No way to make it stop and knowing that ultimately it was your fault. I don't want your pity.. I want you to wake up and see what is in front of you, if you don't.. yet another failure.

I realize some people look at where I am today versus 15 years ago and think.. wow that is some change. Look her lovely house.. her nice car.. her bills are paid. I would trade it all to have the kids back. I would live in a card board box to be able to go back and just be the mom they needed. To be the friend to people who needed. To be the daughter .. sister.. just to change who I am because this me.. she is nothing.

Some have said I should write a book.. I am not sure what it would be about. How to fail at grief? How to just stay stuck in self hatred and guilt?

So here I am .. another year approaching. 5 without my beautiful amazing daughter. Without her voice, her hugs, or her laugh. Another year I am failing her. How do you celebrate a life when your heart is so shattered?

I don't even know what to name this .. it probably doesn't deserve a title. Maybe it does and that is your job. Can you name this post? And Go!

As most of you well know I have been lacking in the writing department. For no other reason that I am just lazy and it is winter. I thought I had it this year, that the unforgiving sadness and grief had let go finally until I realized that it had me just in a different way. Instead of giving into the sad and darkness I "fought" may way through it again with food and wine. I have consumed every emotion I have felt in the last 6 months and if you combine that with the fact that my feet have not allowed me to run or zumba what you end up with is a really fat sad person who really doesn't know how to ensure she gets out of this. It feels hopeless. How many times must I go down this road. The weight it goes up .. it goes a little down... it goes UP.. it goes a little down.. it goes UP!!! It is a journey I am utter sick of but have no control it seems. I keep searching for the "this makes me feel better" I have not found it.

Please do not get me wrong.. I have a wonderful life, full of wonderful things and family and friends all of which I could not have made it this far without. I love my jobs and they provide for myself and my family. The puppies I get to love on a daily basis are sweet little blessings. I have a boyfriend who loves the ground I walk on (yes we all know). Parents who have stood beside me. Friends who love me regardless. And one trainer who has tried for years to make me hear him.

I wonder if he knows some times that it isn't that I don't hear him, or that I don't listen, it's that the monster that lives inside of me takes over and none of it matters. It's an emptiness that is so relentless that you just try to fill it with anything you can get your hands on. For me.. that is food and booze. I thank God it has never been drugs because there is no doubt I would be dead by now but none the less this is slowly killing me. Partially physically partially emotionally.

Let's talk about dying for a minute. If I by chance woke up tomorrow dead, I would be ok with that. My job here would have been done and hopefully I would finally be at peace. That in no way means that right this minute I want to die, yet I feel like I am not living again. Maybe it takes me having crazy goals like Spartans and Marathons to make me feel alive and like I am not missing out on life. Right now, with this body I feel like I am in a coma at a juncture where I have to decide to grab life or let go.  I have to get to a place that I can run again, where I can get over a 8 foot wall without the fear of crushing a team mate if I fall on them, where I can do a sit up and the fat doesn't smoosh me to the point I can't breathe. In short this is fucking ridiculous.

If you think that I just happily go about my day chowing down on goodies with no remorse, regret, or feelings of self hatred boy are you wrong. I wonder am I that person that people shake their heads at when they see in a restaurant ordering food? Am I just a few downward spirals from My 600 Lb life and riding a scooter through the grocery store filling my cart with cakes and cookies? Am I a year away from wiping my own ass with a toilet brush?? (you're welcome Dinks). Am I really the fat kid that people made fun of in school? I tipped the scales at about 125 then and yet the taunting happened anyway because I wasn't size 2. Am I a wart hog? I wonder does he still call me that in his head at family dinners because I still hear it in mine.  I wonder why I am in this class with these amazingly fit women, do people watch the videos and think WTF is she doing there? Do they look at me waitressing and wonder if I ate half the menu before shift? You would think that these thoughts alone would make me stop eating and trying to drown my own sickening thoughts with wine, but nope. It is always hey.. look at that bowl of risotto I bet that would be amazing and for 2 minutes while I scarf that down all is ok with the world but then it is on to maybe a glass of wine will make me feel a little better while I discuss in my own head how terrible of a human I am for eating the risotto and deciding yes.. in fact I am a wart hog and disgusting, but wait, I didn't have dessert, screw it already had wine and risotto, chocolate will be great with the rest of this bottle. Then you go to bed and you say tomorrow will be different or you will be at peace, neither of which happens.

I considered surgery, but there is a fear there that I can't get past and the simple fact that cutting me open won't fix my head and heart. So here I sit wondering if this time I will get to my goals. Wondering if this time I take my life back from the monster. Wondering what you really see when you look at me, do you even see how broken I have to be inside to have become this on the outside? Wondering if the only way to find peace and to live again is to just die. Wondering what you are going to name this post because I just don't have it. Wondering if it is ok to stop typing now even though there is no wrap up because I just have no more energy....

Love and Peace
Re

I know that some of you are more than sick of our snow here on the OBX, I also know that some of you were sick of it 20 minutes before it started... I mean after all it is the beach we are supposed to be sunny and warm all the time right? No, sorry, wrong.  Well to me it is wrong anyway.

I happen to love snow, I have written about it before the absolute pure peace of the snow falling and the beautiful blanket of white is just incredibly calming to my heart. Yes I did set a clock for 3 am and got up to watch it fall all morning, I didn't want to miss one flake! The being stuck in with no where to go and chili on the stove, while a fire warms the room is just as close to heaven as an 80 degree beach day with 78 degree water temps. That is just me.

I will add that I do hate driving on anything that is potentially slippery and may have panicked a little at that but otherwise the last 4 days have been glorious and soul healing in a month that is usually filled with heart ache and sadness this snow was a pick me up to hopefully help carry me through until the warmness of spring touches our faces.

So today while our snow starts to melt away instead of grumbling about how annoying and awful it is, just take a minute and remember that for just a few days, we all slowed down, we spent time with each other that our normal busyness does not allow. Sledding was done by kids that had never before been able to. The snow kissed some children for the first time. Just as putting your feet in the ocean is something that I believe everyone should do, I also believe that everyone should know the peace of being snowed in.

Just my two very cold and frozen cents.

Love and Peace
Re

I am probably going to embarrass her but I am doing this anyway.

I guess we should start from 4 and a half years ago, this beauty was supposed to move in my house with Deanna for the summer, but after the accident it just wasn't a great idea. I was in no place to continue on with plans that should have included De and she was in no place to deal with my grief nor I of hers.

Fast forward to this fall, more sadness, more tragedy but this time I was ready, I was able to say yes, I am here. I was in a place that I could open my home and offer her a place to be safe and warm, I will admit I did it reluctantly and I swore I wouldn't allow myself to be close to her or her dog. They could stay but it would just be that.. staying here, her doing her thing me doing mine.

BUWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA that worked about as well as you would expect.

First off Haley had a few trips planned so Bossy spent some time with Banx and I... and well you know me I fell in love. She is such a good girl and minds her manners most of the time. She isn't fond of being left by both Haley and I at the same time but we have a plan to keep her safe and protected. A few buns and a dinner of Drake's may have met its demise when left to her own devices but nothing that can't be fixed. I mean COME ON who can't love this face.

So began my love story with another beautiful creature. When Haley is home she doesn't stray far from her side, but when it is me she is then my shadow (unless the fire place is lit... but I would be there too if I weren't behind this keyboard). She hogs the covers at night, she takes my chair, runs of with Banx's toys, but most importantly she stole my heart.

I really didn't think I could do this again after Charlie but there she is making my heart happy.

The story doesn't end there. Haley didn't just share with me her puppy she shared with me her life. While nothing can ever fill the hole that was left when Deanna died having this sweet girl be part of my day to day is overwhelmingly powerful. It's a glimpse of what could have been. It's chats. It's coming and going. It's how does this dress look. It's hey can you watch the dog. It's late night wake ups. It's the sound of kids voices enjoying life. It's laughter. It's shared tears. It's blocked in cars. It's watching silly TV. It's just life.

While she has her own life and her own drum to march to, I am so grateful that she allows her music to fill my heart where it was so utterly quiet before. There is no doubt that two very busy angels made this happen, two broken hearts just needing something that were  brought together through tragedy.

Little did I know when I opened my door she would be the unexpected gift that opened my heart.

Merry Christmas, I love you more than you know.

Sorta.


Don't get me wrong, I love Christmas, the lights, the parties, the gatherings, the presents, the giving, the receiving, the songs. I actually love all of it. It is just shadowed so darkly that it is hard to see the lights, and the smiles, and the love, and the peace. Spending Christmas without your child is brutal. You wonder if others realize you are sad underneath the err hmmm glitter. You wonder if anyone remembers your baby before you bring them up. You wonder if this will be the year that you finally make it through the holiday season with out the crash and burn of suicidal depression.


There is no magic answer to ensure it doesn't happen, there is no magic answer to get through it once it does. I rely heavily on routine of my non routine, family, puppies and friends. Seriously that is what gets me through. I am utterly grateful to have all of these elements in my life.


Most of us know parents who have lost children, you are reading this so you probably know me, but other than me... you know someone. You may not know exactly what to do to help them through such a heart wrenching time of the year, you may wonder if it would be ok.... trust me it is ok and welcomed, it may not be the cheerfulness of Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer and more the emotional toll of Silent Night but you can do it, your 15 minutes of uncomfortable is worth a moment of joy for someone with an eternally broken heart.


Some thoughts:


Buy a special Christmas Tree ornament for them, or even better yet for YOUR tree, send the parents a card and a photo showing that the ornament is in memory of their child so every year as you decorate you include them.


Spend some quiet time with them, ask for a coffee date or a glass of wine in a quiet restaurant, let them know that you have been thinking of them and their child and ask them to share with you a Christmas memory.


Send a Christmas floral bouquet from their angel in heaven.


Walk right up to them and hug them (if you are close enough... inappropriate hugging probably isn't a good thing) let them know that an angel sent it to them.


If they call, text, email, facebook and ask to hang out or for you to do XYZ try to make every effort, I know from experience this time of year my comfort place is at home alone, if I am asking I probably need a dose of peopling and a little extra love.


Are they a writer? Get them a beautiful journal, let them know when you saw it you thought of them and that it would be perfect to write down memories and stories of their angel in and that you would be love to read it.


Do they go to church? Does your church do a special candle or flower purchase at Christmas, purchase one in their child's memory, please see about about wondering if anyone else remembers, it is truly a gift when someone else does.


Send a gift from their angel.


I know you may be thinking these are stupid, but as a mama spending her 5th Christmas without her baby girl I am speaking from my broken heart. You may wonder won't these things hurt, sure they will, everything hurts but the joy in knowing someone else remembered will override it. You may also wonder if it will make them cry, probably and that is ok, again see my statement above, you can survive a few minutes of tears, we have survived, days, weeks, months, and years of them.


My final thoughts, think outside of the box, let them know you care, and above all give them a moment of remembrance during this joyous but difficult season.


Peace and Love,

Re

At this point I am sure all are well aware that Ed and I have a new home. It is beautiful and it is amazing. I did not write much during the process of home buying, I actually have not written at all since August which was about the time we started getting down and dirty with details. It was scary and stressful and I knew the words would flow out of me like a broken dam and I didn't want to put physical attachment to my feelings that I was trying so hard to combat.

I had to keep telling myself that we deserved this and it was going to happen. Of course I found one house I thought was right.. it was wrong.. on my was it wrong, and of course it fell through and sparked a downward spiral of sadness, then I looked and looked and nothing.. zero.. zip.. even the new constructions were just wrong.

And then as I was scrolling through zillow for what seemed like the 287323874387436th time I saw this...

Just right out there on the interwebs was this amazing painting of blue and purple feathers on a purple wall. Just hanging around out there. I immediately knew I had to see the house before even looking at other photos so I shot out a text to my realtor extraordinaire Ilona and had an appointment set up. I paroozed the other photos and I was stunned to see that it was exactly what we needed! The space, the lay out, the yard, the everything.

I walked in that first day and felt that felling people kept telling me about. We put in an offer and started the ball rolling. I won't say that the process was without stress and hiccups and just smooth sailing but I will say that it was a lot less than I thought it would be. I believe that is in part to my amazing team I had behind me. From my loan officer, the realtor, my attorney, the sellers, my boys, my crew of awesome movers and all the friends and family who listened as this went through each step, you were all amazing and a wonderful support! I could not have gotten to here today without you.

But I have to give credit where credit is due. Deanna was all over this from the moment I saw the photo of the feathers. Which now actually lovingly hangs on the same nail they have hung from since they were painted, with a hand written for Mom message written on the back. I will never in a million years be able to express to the artist or the original owner exactly how much this simple act of love and kindness has affected me. As I rehung that painting on the day we moved in a shift happened.

So many people say to the grieving "Time will make it better" that is so undoubtedly untrue when the grief is for your child. Time doesn't make it better, if anything the more time marches on the more dreams, hopes, celebrations, birthdays compound into more and more loss. Things are never the same again. I was reading an article this weekend that summed everything up, "When we bury a child we bury every thing that child's life enveloped, there are no do overs, there is no rebuilding. It is forever and it is final."  I have learned to not shed the tears that build, I have learned how to hang the sad at the door of work, I have learned to emoji my face into a silly smile and to say "I'm good" with a conviction that makes it almost believable. I know all these years later that it is a battle I will have to face each and every morning when I wake up. But the one thing I was not banking on, that I didn't see coming. Peace.

Oddly if you read the post before this one on my blog it is about my love of chaos and how I operate best on a life full of busy, stuffs, things, works, it really didn't matter as long as there was something to hang the sad on as I walked in. Sitting quietly with a book was most unheard of. Spending time alone for hours very unlikely. Sleeping more than 5 hours straight, laughable. I thrived and survived on chaos. The days leading up to the closing of our home was filled with the insanity of packing and emails and details, but through it all the nagging "you should be here" feeling. I would glance at the feathers and miss her terribly yet be filled with love and I would continue the march forward to closing.

Ah closing. Set for October 16th but due to one of the hiccups my move in date (again thank you thank you thank you to my awesome moving crew) was not my true court recorded close date. You see I think someone wanted their wing involved and wanted to make sure that I saw her nod. Our official closing date October 20th, a day that probably would only strike me as significant, but in a time where I still think of my child on every 20th of the month, the October month always seems to stand out more. You see that marks another half a year of her angelversary. I realize that some people may be reading this thinking "Boy is she reaching" but live in a world of no rebuilds before you judge please, it is the little things that keep you moving forward. So here I am unpacking and decorating feverishly because I had to be busy, I had to get it done, and done it got.

My daddy and mama have both visited and helped in the last two weeks, both sleeping in a real live guest bedroom. Banx has found his favorite spots. Ed's help and love of the place passed my wildest dreams. Drake and Haley have mostly settled in (they are in their 20s I don't think settling is in their nature). Friends have stopped by and Amanda and I have found date night to be comfortable and an ease to fall into. I have read two books, cooked at home, spent time in the quiet, worked from my beautiful desk in my amazing office with the sun shining in. I have slept on a regular basis for 8 or more hours waking to feel refreshed.

As I unpacked the final box, as I hung the final painting a feeling of peace swept over me and I realized that yes, it is final, but not over as I heard ever so faintly. "Mommy, we're home."

Hi there. I am Re. I live in chaos and I actually love it. Chaos is a large part of me and my make up and I embrace that. I enjoy jumping from job to job daily, a quick dine and dash with friends on a moments notice, an impromptu art class or company showing up on my door unannounced, hour long training sessions that will drop you to your knees, followed by a surprise lunch, it is what I do. It is my own beautiful chaos theory, in that I operate best in busyness and full calendars and having empty spots filled quickly with friends and activities. I flounder in unnecessary and unwelcomed quiet. That is not to say that I do not like being alone.. I DO! I absolutely LOVE my down time and I will quickly say, it has been a long weekend I am going to stay in tonight and just reset.


I know people who are the complete opposites of me and that is ok. I know others who are some form of a mixture of it all and that is ok too. I know lots of people and we are all very different, and I love each of you and it is ok. The point is what is ok for you, I don't fit into any more than you would fit well into my chaos. I know very well that it would be difficult for others to keep up the pace I set myself in.


I have had numerous people recently tell me they couldn't live the way I do. Ok.. what is my response supposed to be to that? I typically give a little laugh and say there is nothing to it. The truth is there is a LOT to it. There is a lot to my life and there is a lot to yours as well. I commend you for living your life the way you need to be you and loving yourself enough to realize what you need for you. I have been doing self discovery work for a little while now and one thing that I am finding is that I still at this age allow what people's opinion to directly affect my feelings of myself. They say.. "Your life is crazy! I could not do that" I hear.. "You are crazy, I am normal." I am trying at this point to reset my brain into hearing the words people are saying but it is difficult, especially when the words are really unneeded in the first place.


I would hope that I would never reply to someones weekend relaxing as "Wow your life is so boring" ok I did that once when I was 25 to my dad and to this day he still brings it up. My point on all of this.. commenting on someones life style is risky. Unless you are very openly complimenting the other party on something in their lifestyle you find commendable and interesting, it just comes across ugly. The chaos, it keeps me sane, believe me I have recently crawled out of the pit that not having the busyness led to and ultimately it nearly killed me. So maybe instead of finding my way of life so crazy, perhaps see it for the beauty that it is, in that I am still here and living my beautifully chaotic life! 


Love and Peace,

Re


#wearealldifferent #chaostheroy #doingmeyoudoyou #ifyoudontbelievemejustaskEd #mylifeisnotbetterthanyours #happinessinthestrangestplaces #ifaReinNCflapsherwings