Starting Over...

So, let's see...where do I start... Do I start with what got me here tonight? Do I start with where I've been for two years? Do I just start over?

It's a bit complicated to just start over...and maybe the reason I'm here tonight is that I'm ready to talk about the last two years...ready to share the story. Maybe. Or maybe I know that my writing is my way through...a very difficult trip...but none the less, a way through.

Last we talked, I had just gone on a trip to Branson with Rick and the kids...Ahhh, those were the days, right? I remember that trip to Branson. I was nervous about leaving even though it was only from Wed through the weekend. And I kept justifying the trip in my head saying things like, "I need this time away...My family deserves this time with me, etc". At that time, my life really revolved around my mom and her diagnosis. Even when I was taking time for me or my family, I was consumed with my mom and the details of her life...which included things like red and white blood cell counts, bowel movements and daily medication schedules. In fact, from the moment my mom told me they found cancer in her lungs, my life changed. I changed. Rick explains it as the time when my spark faded.

So 18 months into the fight, mom passed and I'm still (a year after her death) trying to find my spark. I feel a bit uneasy...actually guilty... talking about all of it because I know there are people in this world with MUCH bigger problems than my dealing with the loss of my mom. I've belittled the event in hopes of not thinking about it...or making it not as important as it was. But the reality is...it was a defining moment that lasted 2 years and counting. The reality is....it's a lifetime of love and support that is now there only in my memories.

You would think that after two years...of being the strong one that is calm in the face of danger...that I would be strong in the aftermath. And the reality is that I've gotten a bit lost in the whole experience.

I was raised to "push through"..."force yourself to get up, get in the shower with the hopes that you'd feel better. Well, I've tried ever scented soap, body scrub, loofah sponge there is and I still walk out of the shower with a film on my skin!

I'm my own worst critic in this whole thing...but then again, who isn't right? Aren't we toughest on ourselves? Tougher than anyone else could or would be on us? Isn't it the hardest to give yourself a break?

And at what point do you just make up your mind to get over it? Or do you ever? Initially I was proud to get through the first anniversary of mom's death. Someone once told me that if you get through the first year, you'll make it. That first year, you go a little crazy but then you regain your balance. So I vigorously checked through all the firsts...Check! Check! Check! Her birthday, Mother's day, Thanksgiving (her favorite holiday). I kept myself busy checking all those things off the calendar. And then I woke up on day 366 and realized that I was just now on a journey of the "seconds" unless I did something different.

So I guess where I left off was in the midst of all the unknowns. Now, I know what happens at the end of the story. I know what I'm capable of...I know when push comes to shove, where I'll be...and I know that my husband and kids are truly at the core of who I am now. It was a hard couple of years. And where do I start now? I guess with the basics and build from there. Turning over the rocks, looking at things for what they are...and aren't and finding peace in who I really am and what I've been blessed with in my life.

Until next time....