Full Range of Emotions

Those who know me know I'm not an overly emotional person. Sure, I'll tear up like any other chick over 'The Notebook,' but when it comes to having a good cry or feeling overly elated, those emotions are few and far between. In fact, when trauma and drama hit, it takes me weeks, sometimes months or years to dig down deep enough to understand how I'm truly feeling.

I've found this week, however, I'm teetering constantly on the edge of emotion. Giddy about the new paths opening up in life - everything's about to change, and I'm ready to open and embrace it. I've been living in the shadows for years, it feels like, and it feels good to begin to feel more a part of the world again.

But there are also some deep, sad emotions that I neglected for too long that have been brewing into a very strong concoction. The last year (well, really, the last few) was a tough one - lots of loss, on many levels. All year I kept plugging through thinking something new, something great was around the corner if I could just keep my chin up. And for the most part, I did. Only when January came did I really begin to think about the path of the previous year. And for some reason it makes me sad to think about it. I'm missing loved ones I lost, I'm missing some small components of life that will never be the same and more than anything, I'm bummed about how much the girls grew and changed without my seeming to have noticed it. It just all happened so fast.

That's not to say the year was not without great things. Of course my girls and the joy they bring me every single day are the most important part of that, but there were also the wonderful  friends that I grew closer to than ever, and who are constants in my life now. I felt surrounded by love and friendship in my worst moments, and was thankful to be able to return the favor. Many of these friends had even worse years than I did. Yet we all find a million reasons to laugh each time we're together. And I renewed a lot of old friendships that had been neglected for years, too. It felt good to reconnect - it's been hard working from home for more than 7 years and feeling so... alone.

The other day I put a quote on FaceBook that sums up where I am right now...

"And the time came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." - Anais Nin

I'm ready to open up and embrace life fully again. So, if I'm suddenly teary around you for what appears to be no reason at all, bear with me. I'm kind of digging these new found emotions - and am trying not to put my feelings at bay any longer. For years I tried to stave them off - like they were a sign of weakness. It's time to let go and bloom.

One of my favorite days. Ever.

Nothing makes you appreciate your own children more than after the loss of another's child. I've been mourning Charlotte's loss for some time now, even before she was gone. Yet I felt shut away from the girls. Almost guilty for loving on them, when my friends' child was dying. I know that makes no sense - especially since Charlotte's father's instructions to me every time I saw him was to "hug your babies" but it was just hard to think of how healthy they were, how unfair it was to the Reynolds. But I'm moving on.

The memorial was absolutely beautiful. Thanks to all my friends who helped out with it, donated or were there for me to commiserate with. I love you all, and the Reynolds thank you too.

The service was so touching. I've been singing "I'll fly away," gospel-style for the last few days. It ended with "Let's go fly a kite!" as we headed out to the balloon release (eco-friendly ones of course). It was such a beautiful site, and was a wonderful act of letting go. The reception actually went well, even though we crammed 700 people in a space for 250. The bands were hopping, there was laughter and tears, hugs and friends galore. I even ran into some old high school chums I hadn't seen in years, which was a bonus boost. I felt a great sense of closure - not necessarily for me, but as a collective group. And I am in awe of the Ashland community. That little town truly is the "Center of the Universe." I'm proud to have called it home during my high school years.

But to be honest, I was so busy preparing, obsessing about making it all right, that I'd neglected my babies all week. Yesterday I crashed and burned - a complete pajama day, lounging on the couch, finally showering in the late afternoon and snuggling with the girls all day long. It was bliss to be so lazy (though I did feel very guilty).

Today was back to business. Thankfully it was a school holiday, so I had a fantastic day with the girls doing everything they could possibly want - breakfast at McDonald's playland, shopping for new Schleich animals, playing with said Schleich animals, playing outside, going to the park, making home made pizzas together (my white pizza is the BOMB!) and just relishing the little moments with them. The sun was out, it was a glorious 58 degrees and I felt alive and happy like I haven't felt in weeks. My God I missed my girls. And the sun.

I had the most awesome time with the kids. I laughed at Sadie running from spot to spot in the volley ball court to make sand angels. I had a long talk with Katie about Martin Luther King Jr and his impact. (She brought it up - this morning she told me she wanted to make MLK's wish come true for his birthday and she was going to be kind to every person and treat everyone the same no matter who they were, where they came from or what they looked like. Atta girl!). I teared up when the girls took turns shouting from the playground mountain climbing rock "I love you Mommy!" at the top of their lungs. I was just plain and utterly happy today.

So, I'm ready to embark on the next adventure in life, and where ever it leads. I will never forget the lessons taught by Charlotte and her brave parents. I will forever be changed by this experience in living and dying, and I am the better for have being graced by being a part of the conclusion of Charlotte's life. I would give anything to have learned in a different way, but am thankful for the lesson none the less.