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Mixed Feelings

My little guy swiped the tears off of his face with the back of his arm and grinned as an excited squeal squeaked out. He had just suffered through painful Botox injections in his legs, but was quickly distracted by the huge bin of toys and games that was plopped in front of him to choose from.

I couldn’t help but crack a smile as well, and thought, there it is, reminding me again; grief and joy coexist.

I have felt bound by a very long season of grieving; one fresh struggle after another for a seemingly endless stretch of time. As I told a good friend the other day; it’s just a constant game of Russian roulette and we keep getting the bullet. I’m sure that’s not the case even though it feels that way sometimes. I have also seen that life does not pause to wait for the hard thing to be over; it scatters the joy right in with it. And thank goodness… am I right? I shudder to think what these dark days would feel like without the fresh breaths of laughter and excitement. Admittedly, I also struggle to fully appreciate the joys sometimes when I am grieving hard.

These past few weeks have been a more prominent example than most of this roller coaster of sorts. I sat across the table to sign for the closing of our beautiful new house crouched over from the fresh surgical scars of a few days prior, celebrated the excitement of boxes and furniture coming in the door while resenting the limitations that kept me from helping to carry and unpack. My flowers bloomed beautifully while my vegetable garden was laid to waste by the weather. Summer break and the delight in bikes and popsicles and lightening bugs and new friends, was coupled with a traumatic fall from a tree that landed my oldest girl unconscious and in an ambulance. On the same hand, the devastation and helplessness I felt over her injuries was bathed in the gratitude that it was not as disastrous as it easily could have been. I received insurance approval for a wonderful new device to help me walk more normally on the tails of hearing hard news from a close friend, and had a weekend of celebrating my newly sixteen year old boy and Father’s Day, coupled with anxiety and new testing for another unknown of my own. There is no time to stop and celebrate the victories or grieve the losses, there is simply a perpetual circulation of the highest highs and the lowest lows, and the best I have found is to drink deeply of the holy graces and allow yourself to feel the depths of the sorrows, and keep moving forward with them.

I know I’m not alone in this. I realize each of you dear readers face your own highs and lows with the revolutions around the sun, and I hope it gives us so much more kindness and understanding for each other. I haven’t mastered this, no; it’s easy to let the sting of the hard bleed into the moments that should be celebrated, but I’m trying ever so hard to fully embrace both, are you?

Please leave me a comment, it lets me know you’re listening!

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Oh! It’s here!

Soooo all the cyber moms are posting these great photos of their kids with cute first day of “x” grade signs beside great photos of their kids with cute last day of school signs, and precious little memories and goals from the beginning of the school year, and now the end of the school year. A few cute mamas dressed their little humans in adorable outfits on the first day of school, and managed to find every piece of the same outfit (still in pristine condition after four semesters of pencil lead, slime, sun-cracked rubber swing sitting, railing sliding and surprise chocolate milk) on the last day, and they adorably represent just how much the little ones have grown, and I’m like, ummmm… I remembered to make mine wear shoes to school on their last day today?? 🙌🏻

This school year crawled by and was over in a snap all at the same time. I watched my brave babies tearfully struggle the agony of being the new kids in a new place, saw them dig deep, face fears, forge friendships, and carve small places of triumph and comfort for themselves in the face of a strange new unknown. They stepped in so timid and unsure, and marched out with confident and maturing faces lifted toward the sky.

It has been a wild school year of ups and downs and all things new, and my heart-blood thrums with pride at watching them own it. They are my inspiration, my motivation, and my reasons to bravely walk into each new mystery with sure and expectant steps. We may have missed buses, overlooked library books, stuffed leftover pizza into crumpled lunch sacks as an afterthought, and played hooky a day or two just because our feet and our hearts needed to snuggle together under the cover of a thick sky and a crackling hearth, but… we made it! Another school year stronger and wiser and refined by all the scorching and applauding of an ever-turning globe, and I will stand tall and smiling for every single proud day as I cheer for these magnificent little world-shapers of mine. Well, ok, I will occasionally take a break from cheering and ask them what in the world they are thinking, but then we’ll get right back to it! I am continually learning from them as they take on the world.

Well done babes, well done!

Celebratory “ice cream!” (Blended frozen bananas & sprinkles😉)

Cannot wait to pull away from our moving boxes sometime this weekend to celebrate big!

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Someday. A letter to my children.

There has been a lot of praise this week for the Mothers. I love and cherish each and every “you’re the best mom in the world,” but I can’t help but wonder what my kids will remember of me long from now. It flatters and humbles and melts me in a puddle to hear them say they would pick me again out of all the moms, but I hope they know that I am equally aware of the holes I have left them.

Someday, my sweet babies, when I’m no longer here to look over your shoulder or come running from another room, I hope you remember that I absolutely loved being your mom. I hope you believe me when I say that you were my world. I hope you remember all the silly times and happy times and treasured memories we made, and that they bring a smile to your face every time you think on them. I hope you remember the sad and the hard times too, but I hope what you remember about those times is that we made it through. We didn’t always have the answers, and maybe we didn’t always choose the best choice, but we stuck together and we looked to Jesus, and we kept on pushing forward until things got a little easier. I hope you remember that in the sad times you still brought me much happiness.

I hope that you know how keenly aware I was of my mistakes. I hope you’ll forgive me for them; for being too protective, too selfish, too impatient, too narrow-minded, too angry… I hope you believe that I was doing the best that I could at the time. At least, that’s what I thought I was doing.

I pray that you not only forgive my mistakes, but that you learn from them and carry into your own families a deeper knowledge and a better way than I had. I hope you’ll carry some of me too; like getting up early to make a big Sunday breakfast and singing at the top of your lungs like you just don’t care.

Please forgive me for the empty spots I left and the hurts I caused. I know they are there. Forgive me for not being brave enough and humble enough and wise enough to always see them. I so desperately hope that there will be strong and meaningful people in each of your lives who can speak truth and strength to where I gave you weaknesses, and you will discover yourselves more whole.

Each one of you were the most precious, unimaginable gifts to me. I could never have dreamed of being given such blessings as you. You rocked my world and colored it and made it full of laughter and music and fun, and I could never have lived such a magnificent life without you.

Thank you for teaching me to look outside of myself; to relax, to trust, to slow down and enjoy, to take risks, to fight, to have courage and hope and ambition. I hope that the string that I gave you is enough to hold onto and run into the world; exploring and learning and conquering and becoming everything you dream you can possibly be.

I hope you will feel glad that I was your mom. I hope you can keep the good parts of me and ditch the bad, and keep making an infinite number more of the best of yourself.

You are my children; you made me a mama. Showed me how strong and how flexible and how silly and how important I could be, and it was incredible.

I love you each; from the bottom of the ocean, to the top of the sky.

Love,

Mom