As a parent, we look forward to teaching our children about kindness and the consequences that come without it. We read books, we redirect their behavior when not in line with our principles, and hope that everything we are doing will be fruitful.

One of the big reasons why I love Nathan’s school is because of their IB learning profile. They pride themselves on teaching beyond a basic education education by teaching our children to be inquirers, knowledgeable, thinkers, communicators, principled, open-minded, CARING, risk-takers, balanced and reflective in everything they do.

Wow. right. If our child could just have half of these, the world would be a better place. But this post is not about our children. It is about us, as adults. I think somewhere along the lines, as adults we can become comfortable in our places, and we stop growing. In the last couple of years, my family has begun a different educational journey. We stopped being part of the preschool years and entered Nathan’s long journey of education. But in the process, I’ve discovered that there is a lack of kindness coming from adults.

When did we lose our ability to show kindness? This was my question for a very long time, but it dawned on me last night as I cried myself to sleep over a heavy disappointment, that it is not that we lost our ability to be kind, we have simply not given it its proper time. We have stopped being mindful of our surroundings and focused in on ourselves. In the world of social media and its impact on peoples views of themselves, we have become blind towards others and redirected our view upon ourselves.

Kindness takes work. It takes initiative. It takes looking beyond ourselves and looking outside our peripheral. It takes waking up in the morning and thinking for 2 seconds how we can be kinder, and how our actions can have a positive ripple effect. And it also takes us actively choosing to look towards the good.

It has been so long since my last post. Life without my mother has been trying. My mother was a beautiful woman, full of joy, good sayings, and texted me almost every day with an encouraging message that always seemed to be exactly what my soul needed.

She didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear. She didn’t encourage me by filling me with empty words. She told me when I was wrong and always told me how I could be better. I didn’t have to ask her, she always provided her two cents, even when she knew I rather not hear it. Without being aware, my mother was molding me into a person who never becomes complacent. She wanted me to strive to be better, not necessarily the best, just not the same as the day before.

I don’t know where I stand today. I can’t tell you that I don’t have those days when everything feels so heavy and all I want to do is embrace my Mami. I can’t tell you my heart is not broken, still. I can’t tell you that the joy I experience today, will ever be the same as the joy experienced when she was still on earth. BUT, I can tell you that I have taken baby steps forward and that I am not standing still.

Every day I strive to be patient with my heart, to be gentle with my needs, and therefore kind to those around me. I found in these several months, that if I don’t check in with myself first thing in the morning and ask Jesus to help my heart be kind, it is easy to let disappointment and sadness overtake your day.

Your situation may be different, but your attitude and heart towards everything, is your choice. No event in your life can decide your response. It can’t tell you to be bitter. It can’t hold you back from growing. It can’t place you on permanent hold. You hold the answer to your situation. I stood still, and although my steps forward can be considered minuscule, I am no longer standing still.

XO

The end of the year was difficult. All I wanted to do was nestle in my bed and hit fast forward. I wasn’t necessarily looking forward to a new year, but I couldn’t deal with the current one. Somehow it felt as if the longer I held on to 2017, I was holding on to Mom, like the year really hadn’t happened. The new year meant it was real. We were starting the year without her physical presence. And though I was torn between fast forward and rewind, my sweet babies were bent on slow motion. Every day being celebrated and every Time Hop movie and picture being replayed (Lei is obsessed with memory hops).

But I’ve been here before, the place where everything hurts physically and emotionally, because there has been a void left. My mom always said the people who passed were always happy, for they were in perfection; heaven, where worries existed no longer. The ones left behind, they were the ones that suffered. They had to learn to live without.

I have started over before. April 13th, 2014 defines me. If there was any point in my life where I no longer wanted to be present, that was the day. My life as I knew it had changed, and I had two choices: break or give it all to try and take baby steps forward. I was broken, for months, I was broken and just when I thought I couldn’t go on, I did. That first step took 6 months to give. And when I gave it, I was proud of myself. Emme defined me and made me the whole person I am today. And my Mom, she’s the cherry on top. And God, well, he is serving the banana split. Making sure everything stays together and when more is needed, he is there to give it.

I am kind. I am strong. I am full of life. I am steadfast. I am joy filled. I am loved. I am favored. I am light.

So as the year begins, I will embrace every scar left, those open, those healing, and those still sensitive to the touch. My mom is my witness now, she’s my cheerleader in heaven, and if I close my eyes, I can clearly see her standing on top of a hill, the sun radiating from her skin, the gentle winds swinging her dress from one side to the other, her hair whisking as she gives me her gigantic smile.