When Emme passed away, a dear friend of mine sent me a beautiful white orchid. It sat inside for a long time, all its blooms fell and yet I kept it. After months, I put it outside. It was a huge orchid that probably looked sad to any passerby. Actually, I did receive a letter in the mail asking me to discard of dead plants that were not enhancing the beauty of our little community. The look of my dead orchid bothered someone enough for them to complain about my garden. I was angry when I read the letter. I though to myself, the shame of this person, unable to see that my orchid has the potential to bloom once again (full disclosure: I didn’t think it would, I just couldn’t get rid of it).

It did. It bloomed again, every year for 4 years. And when it bloomed, it bloomed greater than your average orchid. Though it wasn’t beautiful every day of the year for everyone, it had such a beautiful gift to share. Yet someone wanted me to do away with it because it wasn’t always beautiful.

I wonder how many times I’ve done the same thing. Judged based on what I saw in a quick glance.

This month has been difficult. My heart is filled with so many emotions. Joy from Nathan turning 7 this week, and sadness of not being able to celebrate my mother’s birthday on this side of heaven. Nathan was the first grandchild and every memory of him is one of my beautiful mother loving and nurturing him. I’ve been fighting these tough emotions but it dawned on me yesterday, that I am like that orchid that my neighbor was not able to understand. I do not always have to be happy and it is completely ok to embrace my sadness and all its effects. Simmering in what I feel and why I feel that way, is very healthy for me. Moving forward after the loss of a loved one is a lifelong process. I, out of all people, should know that by now, but it is still a very difficult concept. Time moves so fast but also seems to move sluggishly.

I am embracing my amazing family, all of my little nieces and nephews that fill my heart with joy, and the baby steps I take to move forward. I will welcome every emotion that comes along in between my beautiful blooms.

 

Preschool was difficult for me. I cried every single morning for 5 months! Every. Single. Morning. I remember it so clearly. Every morning I would get ready for school, walk in with my mom or dad, and then the second I knew they were leaving, I would morph into a wildling. Literally. There was no talking sense into me, there was nothing. I can now see my moms facial expressions and see how stressed out she was, and clearly, tired of dealing with my behavior every morning.

I knew they would come back for me, it was never a questions of being left. My sister and brother were at the same school, in a sweet little town called Santa Maria in Central California. We all got dropped off together and I would be picked up first. Yet, I cried. I loved being with my mom, walking to our local grocery store, ABC, spending our mornings lazily, drinking my warm milk while I snuggled in our very warm cream colored couch, watching my mom move around the kitchen. There was no place I would rather be. I felt safe, loved, and complete. I remember having a very patient preschool teacher, very sweet. Those are the extent of my memories of that period of my preschool year.

Christmas came and all the fun activities rolled out. I was skipping next to my mom as we were walking into my school, feeling accomplished that I had “won” that morning’s school battle, and therefore got to go back home with my mom because neither her or the teacher were able to get me to stay. All my classmates were walking out with these beautiful ginger bread houses. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t get one, and my very patient teacher’s answer was very simple, “You didn’t stay in school today, so you missed the project.” I was devastated. That moment defined my preschool years and my mother’s freedom.  I never cried again.

Fast forward to today. Elea is the same age. Newly turned 4 and very strong willed. Has done amazing in all our Mommy and Me, including drop off in preschool. In the Fall she will be starting a new Spanish  immersion school. Big change. She will be leaving all her friends, some of which she’s been with since she was and infant. So after some encouragement from our MFT, I put her in Spanish camp to prepare her transition. I sent Papa to do the drop off. My heart felt heavy and I could almost feel the butterflies in her stomach in mine. I buckled her in and waved goodbye as Papa drove both babes to Spanish camp.

An hour later Papa calls and breathes a sigh of exhaustion, and says, ” that was hard.” My reply was ” thank you for doing that, I think it would have been much harder if I would have done it.” He laughed and said, “I don’t think it could have been any worse.” But I know it could have, because she’s me 30 years ago. I’m sure my Mama is having a ball in heaven this morning.

XO

We just returned from a 2 week road trip that took us from our sweet home to roof top swimming in sin city, watching mountains weep in Zion, doing switch backs with a sick toddler on my back in Bryce Canyon, feeling teeny tiny at the Grand Canyon, and posting up in front of a pool for 72 hours in Lake Havasu. It was an amazing trip with priceless memories. Lei spent about 80% of the trip under the weather but braved through every day, ready to piggyback ride off mom’s back. Once home I started feeling a little off, I figured I had simply caught whatever Lei had, given that she napped on me and slept in my sleeping bag half the time. As I laid out on our couch for the third day, it dawned on me that as much as I wanted to believe I was feeling better, I was pushing through, and in actuality I was feeling worse today than yesterday. So I pulled the trigger and called my doctor, who promptly called me back and determined I have a kidney infection.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this post, but I have noticed that when I’m under the weather I am a lot more sensitive than I normally am (ok! I am super sensitive) but I cry a lot easier, ok probably about the same, but I do feel like I dream more. I have gone everywhere in my dreams the past couple days. Even back to the NICU, sitting in the light brown rocking chair, looking out the window on the fifth floor. Watching water spark up every several minutes from the lobby water fountain. Emme laid on my chest. I could feel her warmth and her smell. It was so surreal that when I woke up to my quiet home this mid morning, I poured out in tears. The gut wrenching pain and love that circled deep in my chest had been woken and it was coming at me with full force.

I drifted in and out of sleep waiting for medicine to be called in and confirmations to be received via text. I fell asleep to my moms beautiful smile, running across the street as she did a million times in Manhattan Beach to come see Nate. She loved parking across the street because it was easier for her to join incoming traffic when heading home. She would always knock on the door out of breath with a huge smile, holding her arms out as Nate called out for her.

I opened my eyes and saw our jungle gym, blurry from tears and my nearsightedness, but even then, I  could clearly see her sliding down the slide with Nate holding on to her neck and Nana gripping on to Ari, as they all giggled down the slide.

I closed my eyes and asked our Father, why am I so sensitive to everything today?! Why does everything take such an emotional toll on me?! I am in a lot of pain but I’m not dying and yet, my body is just flopped on the couch in and out of feelings. Often I want to save the world and feel a bit hopeless when I can’t make everyone’s situation better. Yesterday I received a letter from our little boy in Kenya (sponsor a child here),  and his letter overjoyed my heart. This recently turned 5 year old, prayed for my family, a prayer that felt so warm and filling. As I whined to our Father about being too sensitive and instead of BBQ’ing away with my family today, I am laid out on our couch crying off and on, He said, “That’s the way I made you. I love you this way.” Cue the waterworks!

I love hash tagging #choosejoy and it truly is a choice we make. A hard choice because often times, our nature would have us feel bad for ourselves and our current circumstance, but we were created for greatness. We are worthy of everything, just the way we are.

So, Happy 4th of July, everyone! Enjoy every minute of it and #choosejoy even if you are home sick like me 🙂