November 2022 – Sweat & Sparkle

A Noisy House

I had been feeling apprehensive as Thanksgiving approached. Not dreading it, since it’s actually one of my favorite holidays, but nervous. I was supposed to spend Thanksgiving with my mother. I wasn’t quite sure how my heart was going to react on Thanksgiving morning, without her.

It crossed my mind, in the quiet of that morning, that my mother’s house was dark, empty, and quiet right then. It wasn’t supposed to be. It was supposed to be full of noise and laughter and voices and activity, my brothers and I horsing around, my mom fussing at us but secretly loving every minute. It took my breath away for a moment, grieving what was supposed to be but couldn’t be.

Then I got up and got ready for the day. And what a day it turned out to be! All four kids were here. My husband made a killer dinner, and we had our choice of desserts that I had baked the day before. We were laughing so hard at the table that I had to pass extra napkins around and fuss about someone choking or spitting food onto their unsuspecting table neighbor…but secretly loving every minute.

I love watching my husband and the kids together. They get so goofy and silly and funny, joking, laughing, trying to outdo each other. Nothing is off limits, and to say that they get loud is an understatement. I smiled, listening and watching, and it occurred to me that this is how my mom must have felt when all my brothers and I were home.

So yeah, my mom’s house was quiet. But our house was not. It was lively, loud, beautifully chaotic, an orchestra of laughter and voices. We took pictures, and a friend of mine who saw them later commented that there is so much joy in those pictures. That makes me very proud and happy. Content.

Later, in the peace of nighttime, as my husband and I snuggled up together in bed, I was still smiling. I smiled for me, for him, for the kids, and for my mom. It’s going to be okay. I still miss her and always will, but the key seems to be finding ways to hold her close to my heart while still moving forward, seeking happiness, embracing the hell out of life while I can, and hopefully teaching the kids to do the same.

Reminder

It’s Time

For a while there, I was cruising along, smashing goals left and right. I had less than 10 pounds to go to my goal weight. I was racking up running miles again. I was having fun shopping for new clothes.

Then my mom died about two months ago. That knocked me on my ass so hard that I wasn’t sure I would ever get back up. I could barely breathe, let alone work out or count a calorie. All of that seemed so damn insignificant when I had a gaping wound in my soul.

So, not surprisingly, I have gained weight. I have to re-lose pounds I thought were long gone. I am disappointed, sure, but I refuse to beat myself up for it. Hell, I went through trauma, and I am still healing. If you have ever faced a loss like this, then you know what I mean. If you haven’t, then you are extremely fortunate.

I did a lot of thinking, reflecting, praying, and planning over the weekend. So many people have told me lately how proud my mom was of me, how she smiled as she talked about me. It’s time to make her proud again. It’s time to get back on my feet. It’s time to get back to taking care of me. It’s time…in honor of my mom, for my husband, and ultimately, for me.

I want to achieve so much more than a lower number on the scale. I want to be healthier, stronger, more peaceful. I don’t believe an external transformation is worth much, or sustainable, without internal changes, too. Losing my mom has already set me on the path of self-examination, wanting my life to mean something, to leave something positive on this world and for my loved ones especially. I want to keep going with that.

One elephant in the room that I want to address is my stalker. More than one reader has cautioned me not to post about my weight loss journey here, because my stalker devours my blog. I thought about that, and I decided that I will not stop myself from writing about anything on here, weight loss or otherwise, based on the choices and behavior of anyone else. I have learned over the years that I cannot control the actions of others. If she chooses to visit my blog daily, to continue to obsess over me and my husband, to focus on our lives instead of trying to improve herself…well, that’s out of my hands. Maybe, though, she will read something that will inspire her to seek her own self-improvement, to explore her own choices and behavior, and learn to desire growth instead of stagnancy and bitterness. Maybe. And if not–again, her choice, not mine.

This week I will focus on getting moving again, on taking the time to focus even 20 or 30 minutes to exercise and taking care of my body. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to drink water instead of soda, too! I want to gently ease back into this, to take the approach that this is a gift to myself, not punishment for past slip-ups. I am still healing emotionally, and my body is weakened physically from lack of sleep, proper food, water, and movement. I want to be as loving with myself right now as I would be with a friend or relative who needed my care.

Cocoon

I have been looking forward to this weekend ever since last weekend! It’s been an exhausting week. It wasn’t a bad week at all, though, just draining. I found myself doing a lot of thinking, reflecting, talking to my brothers, getting so inspired by our conversations…but at the same time, grieving is simply tiring, and there’s no way around that.

After some events this past week, some thought-provoking and beautiful moments, I feel like I have finally started to climb back to my feet. I haven’t been unhappy, exactly, or moping around. I have actually felt more motivated to embrace life since losing my mom, to find meaning and purpose to this pain, to honor her by living my life as fully as I can.

But I was still holding myself back. I didn’t even realize it. After a few conversations with my brothers recently, I feel ready to break free of that. I am grateful to have them, in addition to my husband, to lean on and gain strength from during all this.

I feel a bit like I am slowly waking up from a coma. Losing my mom definitely knocked me on my ass, but the last thing she ever would have wanted is for me to stop taking care of myself over it. So it’s time for changes. A lot of positive, healthy changes.

One thing I have already changed is reminding myself to live in the moment, to appreciate the love in my life, to experience and hold onto every single bit. Laying in bed this morning, tucked tightly under the warm covers, I felt my husband’s arms around me, his face pressed tenderly against my chest, and I melted into the moment, enjoying the peace and beauty of our time together before starting the day. I don’t want to take any of those moments for granted.

My husband and I have some plans this weekend, and that’s certainly one reason I can’t wait for the weekend. But I am also looking forward to this weekend and my time off next week because I can’t wait for down time to think, plan, to retreat for just a moment like a butterfly in a cocoon, and lay groundwork to emerge even better than before.

There are things I wish I would have said to my mom. Maybe that happens for everyone after a loss. I am grateful I got a chance to talk to her in the hospital and let her know how much I love her, how much I’ve always loved her. But I would like to learn from that and not leave things unsaid anymore.

In a backhanded way, I am also thankful for people in my life like my husband’s ex, who repeatedly teach me what happens when someone refuses to grow, move forward, improve, or mature. I don’t get it, and I guess I should be grateful that I don’t understand it, that it’s too far beneath me to comprehend. I appreciate the reminder and the example of the result of clinging uselessly to the past, of offering no joy to anyone, of not embracing life or truth or authenticity–in short, of refusing to actually LIVE.

I refuse to be like that. I deserve better than that. So do my husband, my stepkids, my brothers, everyone that I care about. Life is about living, and loving, and discovering and sharing happiness, and I intend to do just that.