Month: October 2022

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween! This is one of my absolute favorite holidays. My husband and I start decorating for Halloween at least a month ahead, and while it means it will take a super long time to take everything down this year, the yard and the house look so awesome that people have actually stopped by just to look at the decorations.

We started our Halloween celebration with a camping trip over the weekend. I will gladly take a chilly evening by a campfire, under the stars, any time over a hotel or resort or pretty much anywhere else. My husband packed a bottle of wine in our picnic basket, and I was so relaxed by the fire that I nearly melted right out of his lap. We just chatted, held hands, talked about anything and everything that popped into our heads, laughed, and enjoyed ourselves.

I don’t think there’s anything more satisfying and cozy than cuddling up close under blankets in a tent on a chilly night, listening to the sounds of the night in the dark, just the two of us and the great outdoors. The dying camp fire glowed outside, gently lighting up one wall of the tent, like a flickering night light. It was beautiful and peaceful.

Tonight everything that lights up, glows, or flickers will be turned on, inside and out, for one last grand presentation before the decorations come down tomorrow. Wishing everyone a fun and magical Halloween!

Back to Living

I can’t pretend it doesn’t still hurt. It will still hurt for a long, long time, and it will never go away. Losing my mom ripped a chunk out of my heart that simply cannot be replaced or filled. I miss her every day, in a million little moments, realizing I can’t call her, I can’t email her, I can’t plan my next trip to visit her. It’s like a vicious sucker punch that knocks my breath away, and it takes a minute to catch it again, to stagger back to my feet.

But I have grown tired of laying on the floor. Mentally, emotionally, I have been checked out ever since my mom died. Maybe even before that, when I knew what was coming before it happened. I will still mourn, of course, or else I wouldn’t be human. But I feel like I got stuck, dug myself into a pit that I couldn’t get out of and wasn’t even trying.

That wasn’t helping anyone, especially me. A thought flashed into my head this morning: taking care of myself is like honoring the way my mom took care of me. Who knows, maybe she nudged that thought into my thick skull to help me shake some sense into myself. I believe in spirituality and some form of life after physical death, so maybe she is still looking out for me.

I am going to drift back to things that made me happy. I have so many hobbies, so many interests, so many sources of joy that I have abandoned, feeling too overwhelmed to even think about them. Well, it’s time to think about them. It’s time to think about my loved ones. It’s time to think about me. And it’s time to get back to living.

Blessing

Yesterday was a non-stop whirlwind. I didn’t have time to slow down and even breathe. Work was hectic, then I came home to open this, read that, fill that out, file those, clean that, get various animals fed and taken care of, check and re-check my to-do list to make sure I wasn’t missing anything.

When it was finally all done, I stepped into a hot, soothing shower, hoping to relax and unwind. Ahhhhh…quiet, solitude, peace.

It was the first time all day I wasn’t insanely busy. So what did I do? Well…I started to cry. Now that I had slowed down, now that I could think, I missed my mom so much. I wanted to call her. I wanted to tell her about my day. I couldn’t. And that fact was ripping through my heart until I could barely breathe.

I thought I was being stealthy, crying quietly, but my husband has ears like radar. The shower curtain rustled softly, and then he was there, silently slipping into the shower behind me, sliding his arms around me and squeezing me tight against him. We didn’t say anything. We didn’t need to.

We stood in the hot water and steam, my tears mingling with the water streaming down my face, my emotions mixing too: feeling anguished but loved. Left behind but not alone. Heartbroken but unbelievably thankful.

By the time we stepped out of the shower, I was able to smile again, and we even laughed at the shock of cold air as we reached for our towels. The rest of the evening was spent snuggling under a blanket, his arms still around me, and I am starting to feel like I am no longer hopelessly shattered, but slowly gluing pieces of myself back together.

There’s an intimacy to baring your soul like that, to stripping down and hiding nothing, that goes far beyond physical. I am grateful that I am able to be so vulnerable with him, that he is always there for me, and that he wraps me up until I feel safe again. I am grateful for every twist and turn in my life that led me to him. I am grateful that we found each other, appreciate each other, and will never let go.

Same World

Through the years, I have seen, over and over, how certain people are simply determined to be miserable and negative. No matter the circumstances, they are incessantly angry and sour. Artificial happiness, thrust onto display for public image and other people’s shallow consumption, is the best they can scrounge.

I am grateful that even during our mightiest struggles, even during relentless attacks by jealous and bitter people, my husband and I have always found joy with each other. We still find countless reasons to smile, to laugh, to appreciate life. We have never been defeated by the hate in other people’s hearts.

I can’t imagine spending each day, every single day, immersed in misery, drowning in envy, with bitterness and resentment darkening everything I see, feel, hear. I have seen what living like that does. For over 16 years, I have watched someone wither, inside and out, uglier each day by her own choices and actions. It’s more than evident, after all this time, that she has no intention (and likely no ability) to ever be anything but what she is now, and that is a terrifying prospect, to be permanently stuck in that abysmal ditch and not even desire to climb out.

It’s an important lesson to everyone around her, including me. It reinforces my resolve to always, always search for the positive, grasp onto hope, continuously seek growth and improvement, discover simple pleasures and even the smallest gift in each day. Life is not to be merely endured. It should offer meaning, purpose, revelation, love. If it doesn’t, then find it! Don’t settle for slowly but steadily decaying while still alive.

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