Identity blues

September 19, 2023September 19, 2023Leave a comment

Often times, throughout our lifetime we go through different seasons where our roles change and with it, our identity. There are permanent roles transcendent ones. And then there are those we are striving towards, or feel we are not good enough to identify with.

I am a daughter, sister, mother, sales professional, writer, story teller, and wife. There are other roles I have come to identify with, and others I have let go.

As part of my ongoing training ( in my profession), I join weekly meetings to listen in on what worked well that week, what did not, and what we I can do better and implement the following week. I love these meetings. They encourage me to constantly look inward and make adjustments. This should be the same way I look at everything in life. How can I be a little better tomorrow?

I’ve recently made it a habit to apologize to Eric for anything where I could have communicated better. For instance, on Monday, I responded to Eric’s question in an overly aggressive tone, and a heavy dose of sarcasm ( I’m actively working on toning this down). It wasn’t necessary, but it fit right in with the mood. My apology that morning wasn’t necessary, but I knew I could’ve done better. My follow up to that apology is to actively tone it down next time, take a breather, and respond with kindness. I want to actively work on being a better partner.

Our identity plays a huge role in how we conduct ourselves and who we want to be. And even if you are not there, lasso in that identity and work towards it, and it will become you, or should I say you will morph into it. Take the leap and you shall reap rewards.

Isn’t that His promise towards our life?

Happy Tuesday 💛

Elea’s Mother’s Day card : Mami’s identity

Thoughts on Grief and Hope, part 1

February 12, 2022September 25, 2023Leave a comment

I don’t remember the dream, but I woke up sobbing. The big emptiness in my chest that seems to suffocate me was back. I whispered, “ I miss you Mami,” and drifted back to sleep. The morning felt heavy, yet different .

Write. Write. Write.

That’s what I felt my heart was saying to me. So here I am, it’s 5:56pm. I am sitting in the Dojo watching my kids do karate and making the time for these thoughts to unravel on this screen.

Grief. It never leaves you. There are seasons when the waves don’t seem to knock you off your feet. Then there are seasons when you’re anchoring your feet, folding your toes into the sand with all your might, and yet the waves push you around just the same.

We are not meant to hold our breath under water for an endless amount of time. We are not meant to stand wave after wave without assistance or being knocked down. I will always need, miss, and mourn my mother. The disappointment of her absence will forever sting. And this is ok.

Disappointment of expectations unfulfilled is something we all feel and mourn. And yet, we have hope, and hope is that which allows us to feel these emotions and at the same time know that His goodness will never fail us.

I hope that as you go through your waves of grief (whatever those may be for you), you feel hope deep within you.

Sleeping Through the Storm

July 21, 2018July 21, 2018Leave a comment

A few months ago we went camping at Point Magu in Malibu. Nate’s school does these camping trips twice a year for families to enjoy and fellowship with other school families. None of us are new to camping. Eric and I both use to do it all the time growing up. It was an amazing time, Nate got to meet new friends and Elea had the time of her life following the big kids around. The kids managed to find a rattle snake, a toad, saw tons of dolphins, whales and so much beauty. Our friends let us borrow a 10 man tent, and we lavished in all our space.

We had two blowup mattresses, one for Eric and Nate and the other for me and Elea. The kids were done and ready for bed after the S’mores had been roasted and eaten. We all snuggled to read under the lantern and within seconds of Harry Potter, the kids were dead asleep. Eric left to go hang out with the other parents, and I, as usual, fell asleep with the kids.

I don’t know what time it was when I awoke to the tent being lifted off the ground, covering my face as though it wanted to suffocate me. My initial reaction was to make sure the kids were ok and had not fallen out of their mattresses. But to my surprise, Elea was snuggled up right next to me, out of her sleeping bag, in blissful sleep. To my left, Nate was sound asleep with half his body out of his sleeping bag. My heart on the other hand, felt like the fishermen on the boat with Jonah. I was panicked, the wind was only getting stronger and I wasn’t sure that my half job at putting in the tent stakes was going to suffice. Eric had gone over some of them making sure they were completely in; I remember feeling annoyed at the time. There was no need for him to go over my work, I had done it right the first time (after hammering my finger!). Now, as I laid in bed, my heart going a thousand miles a minute, shivering in fear, I was thankful for his work.

In the midst of the storm (that’s exactly how it felt), my mind drifted back to the fishermen with Jonah. They must have been so panicked as Jonah slept so blissfully, knowing exactly where the storm was coming from, what was causing it and how he could stop it. How thankful were they to see him get up and throw himself in the water, ending their chaos.

I was in and out of prayer, checking on the kids, hoping that Eric was keeping an eye out on the tent and the storm that raged within. Somehow I managed to sleep a couple hours that night but was completely shocked at how the kids had gone undisturbed. Nate got up once. He completely sat up and said “Mama, what’s going on?” and I responded with “it’s ok, Mama is here, go back to sleep”, and to my surprise, he disregarded the tent bending over backwards, the loud wind breaking sounds, everything inside the tent being thrown around, and went back to sleep. Elea’s sleep was never disturbed.

This was my WOW moment. The whole week I kept reflecting on faith and our ability to sleep through the storm because we know that we are being watched over. Whatever may come, I will be just fine. It baffled me because there are so many different white noise makers to help your babies go to sleep, and sometimes as parents we end up tip toeing around at night to make sure that one squeak won’t wake up our kids, and here we were in a tent that was practically falling over us with high winds that sounded like thunder, yet they slept.

I pray that I am completely inundated by this type of sleep. Come what may, I am staked on the Rock, and though I may not understand the purpose, the what, why, when, how; I am confident that it is all being delicately woven together.

Skirting the Issue

February 27, 2018Leave a comment

There have been so many moments this year when I wanted to sit down and write, and somehow I found something “more important” that needed to be done at that exact moment. But, in all honesty, I am running away from words. Even at this moment, my eyes feel extra heavy and the cup of re-heated coffee sitting next to me doesn’t seem to have the necessary caffeine to make it happen.

Writing has always been my go-to for anything and everything. I have journals filled with words dating back to when not being allowed to go swimming outside with my siblings that one day because I was too sunburned, meant the entire summer was ruined and only my journal understood the devastation. Words were the way I was able to work through anything.

My heart continues to feel heavy and every day my mom gets an earful of my life, and that seems to be enough, but I can feel my heart boiling over with emotions with no outsource. There have been moments when I allow everything to slow down and I am flooded with emotions.

This week while Elea and I sat on the couch, we drifted asleep. She was latched on, and I simmered in that moment. There she was, resting on my chest, breathing, in and out, making baby sleeping sounds, and I cried. I knew that moment was precious and although I was running through a list of things I needed to do, I took it all in.

On Thursday I laid with Nate after Papa had finished the bed time routine. We held hands as we talked about appreciation. He then said, “Mami, you know who I appreciate the most? Nana, I appreciate Nana for the time I had her but I know she’s in heaven now.” My eyes welled up with tears, I held him a little tighter, and said I understood. My heart was broken for him but I also realized that my broken heart needs help.

A couple years ago I had the privilege of speaking at a women’s conference on a couple different topics, but one of them stands out to me at this season of my life. I know I am not Wonder Women but I do come really close. I work really hard at everything I set my mind to, and sometimes a bit too much. Finding the right balance and knowing when you need help, are two things that seem extremely simple and yet are so difficult for me to do at times.

My mom use to always tell me to slow down. She use to tell me that I had to take care of myself first because I couldn’t take care of everyone else if I didn’t place me first. It actually drove her nuts to watch me sometimes. Now, I am not saying that this is bad to do, but I am saying it is easy to over do it. Trust me, I know. And it took a kind man who sees me every week to tell me something I could see my mom telling me through him, to make me come to a complete stop. My heart is broken, and that is completely ok, but it needs caring that only I can allow it to receive.

So in this roundabout blog post, I guess what I’m saying is I’m ready to open my heart to healing. I’m ready to take the first step. And lucky for me, Jesus has always been ready.

Through a Glass Window

December 6, 2017December 6, 2017Leave a comment

On Saturday, my sisters and I hosted our 6th annual holiday cookie party. It was our first without our mama, and every day leading up to the day, I thought about canceling. I thought it would be better to go without this year. Nothing feels the same without her and most things just make me miss her even more. My mom never made a cookie for our party, but she brought the best stuff, the tamales we always serve and Arroz con Leche (a rice drink somewhat similar to rice pudding). And if she couldn’t make it, she made sure her goodies always did.

Thanksgiving was over and the heaviness of it had lifted. And now the cookie party was giving me a little bit of anxiety. Where do we get the tamales from? Would it be ok if we cancel? Why did we send the invitations? Thankfully my sister was able to get us a fantastic contact and the tamales were delivered and were just as yummy. But the tamales were never the problem. It was her presence that I wanted so badly. The presence of love, joy and so much laughter you almost pee your pants (Nathan is going through this stage right now).

The cookies began to arrive and soon enough the house was full, all the christmas decorations were singing, blinking their lights, going round and round their tracks, and laughter filled the walls. It felt surreal. Physically I was very much present, but I felt like I was watching all this from a glass window. I could see my sisters laughing, tasting, and through their eyes I could see joy. It was a like the spirit of joy was going in and out, zig-zagging through each guest. My heart went from incompleteness to an incredible feeling of fulfillment. I walked in and out from the first living room, through the cookie room, right to the Christmas tree room, and every room was filled with laughter.

The night was perfect. The anxiety had vanished and had been replaced with heart warming love. I went home so full of love and joy, I felt it would burst from the seams. The best part was the feeling that mom was there, too. I felt like she was proud that my sisters and I continued something so simple yet hard to put together without her. She was proud that we opened our hearts and gave them the opportunity to fill with joy. She was proud that we chose to give joy a chance, when we could have easily cancelled it.

So this week started with a high and I hope it will end that way. I will choose to keep my heart open for now and remind myself of the goodness that will continue to fall upon me and my family, because now my mom is in heaven, and she, of course, sends extra joy down to her babies (grandkids included 😉 ).

The Thanksgiving Blues

November 27, 2017November 27, 20171 Comment

Mother’s Day 2016

I am glad this week is wrapping up. It has been full of low’s and high’s, and lots of tears. As a parent you can’t skip holidays, even if your heart is asking you to. My children love decorating and making our home feel warm and cozy. The last several months have made me feel like an actress, trying to convince my children that all is well. Pushing through the days full of activities and school engagements.

Thanksgiving 2016

Every year at our Thanksgiving dinner we go around the table randomly picking a colored M&M, telling everyone what we are thankful for given the category assigned to the colored chocolate. My mom was infamous. She always started with the category and then moved on to a speech on thankfulness. I can remember almost verbatim what she said last year. This year I searched my heart, and I knew I had millions things to be thankful for, yet I felt empty. I felt unthankful. I wasn’t given enough. This year came up short. By a lot. I was angry. I was disappointed. I was not very pleasant to be around. So, I avoided the chocolate aisle at the stores and focused on having a good time with the kids on their week off and training for our Turkey Trot in downtown LA.

Turkey Trot 2017

My heart asked me to go to our Thanksgiving church service Wednesday at noon, and although I wanted to give in, I found a list of reasons why I couldn’t go. But I mustered the courage to go against my distraught self. We were late but we made it. Elea went to the children’s nursery and Nathan went into the main sanctuary with me, as it was a special family service. We proceeded to sit all the way in the back. Physically my body was present, but my mind was going 100 miles a minute, inundated by thoughts. Then Nate tapped my leg and asked me what was on the screen.

Pastor Jeff was showing us pictures of the Universe, stars, and beauty that exists beyond our eyes. And then he proceeded to say the following, and I paraphrase:

What is man? So precious to Him that he sent Jesus to die for us.

He made the universe; but he’s thinking of you. All the rest, the beauty in galaxies, he does on his spare time. He is thinking of us.

He does all these things to awe us. He thinks about me. About my family. He collects my tears in a bottle. He is concerned with the details of my life. And yet he created the heavens. He is the same God that wants to take care of my needs. He has never not cared about me.

Before I was even born, he cared about me (Gills, 2017).

Emme photographed by Hannah Sons

Now, I know this to be true, just like I know I have so many things to be thankful for. But my heart needed to hear it and I needed to feel it. And in that moment I did. I kept reminding myself of it the rest of the week. I kept reminding myself of it every time I cried, as I started my Turkey Trot with tears in my eyes, as I sat around an amazing dinner table full of loved ones, and as I sit here now, missing my mama.

My heart

A Needle in a Haystack

November 7, 2017November 7, 2017Leave a comment

Birthday hike

Last week as we waited for the garage door to open, I decided to fix my crazy mom bun before we started our commute to Nate’s school. As I pulled my hair up, my ear tugged and I heard a clinking sound. I touched my ear and I immediately knew my earring had fallen off. Somehow my hair must have gotten caught between my ear and the earring clasp.

My everything

I searched the car for hours. Every crevice. Stuck my fingers in every little hole. Vacuumed with so much diligence with my handy-dandy see through mini dirt devil; to no avail. My diamond isn’t gone. I know where it is, at least the vicinity. I just can’t wear it.

My little explorers

Surprisingly, I don’t feel too bad about it because I’m ( weirdly) being comforted by the fact that I know where it is. And there is hope that one day, as I get in the car, something will sparkle and I will see it. And I will be overjoyed.

My girls

I like to believe that He is saving the find for a day where I’ll need an immense inflow of joy. I find myself believing it to be a truth; an event yet to take place.

This is hope. This is faith. Believing in the unseen. Believing that goodness will come. I’m choosing to hope, and I know I’m very good at hoping.

My rock of faith holding our redemption

💛 Happy Tuesday 💛

A Series of Events

October 31, 2017October 31, 2017Leave a comment

In the last couple weeks, the Zurbrugg household has wrecked a car ( not our fault), lost a wallet ( mama’s while getting some much needed coffee), got told by a stranger how much they hated Cal after our discussion on universities and couldn’t believe why on earth I would go there, managed to win volunteer of the week at Nate’s School, all while trying to keep my head on straight.

Sigh. That was my reaction all week. Breathe in, breathe out. Baby steps.

And yet, as I re-read the paragraph, it actually doesn’t seem that bad 😊 I mean it could have been a lot worse. Eric could’ve gotten his arm or leg taken off, along with the door, but he didn’t. The stranger on my only hour of me time, could have said she hated me, but she didn’t ( although she indirectly questioned my ability to make good decisions :0! ), and the stranger who called me to turn in my wallet could have taken advantage of me, but didn’t.

The silver lining is so hard to see, especially when it seems like it is pouring upon you and you just want a tiny, little break. But we have to keep on truckin’, because every day we can be thankful.

Love

Today I picked Nathan up from school and practically skipped to the gate. Once we interlocked hands, I picked him up (after 2 months of not being able to!) and spun him around until he almost peed in his pants! His contagious laugh had us both spinning around. The doctor had cleared me for physical activity 40 minutes earlier and nothing could make me happier. I can hold Lei today and sing her to sleep. We can once again spin round and round while I sing Holy Spirit, inundating her room with His love and warmth.

Today my heart is overjoyed.

The Constant Drizzle

October 30, 2017October 30, 2017Leave a comment

There is a sense of responsibility I have, for you, my reader. I have been told I am a good story-teller ( live, that is). I think Lei gets her facial expressions from me. I can’t hide my emotions very well, and so, when story telling I can be extremely vivid. I very much love making people burst into laughter. I really enjoy making people feel good. It makes me happy. But this week, I have been struggling. Big time.

Every so often I find myself giving myself pep talks. You see, where as I am a strong advocate of choosing joy, it is not always the natural choice. I remind myself of all the goodness. The little miracles I see. But sometimes it does not suffice. I am left feeling cheated.

My birth anniversary is next week and instead of feeling excitement and celebration flutter, I find myself feeling bamboozled. And it is ok. It if perfectly normal, and justified, for me to feel cheated. I shared my entire life with my mother, and now I don’t get to share it with her at all. I would tell my mom the silliest things that happened to me, because for some reason, funny and weird things happen to me all the time. And she would laugh, a lot, or tell me in her serious voice that she couldn’t believe it, ” Ay no, Lita.” I don’t know whether she believed me all the time, because sometimes I would act it out so dramatically that I would burst into laughing spells. I thoroughly enjoyed hearing my mother laugh out loud.

My Mother’s Heart

We had a terrible heat wave earlier this week in Los Angeles. It was HOT. Miserably hot. And as I drove into the garage from Lei’s school, I found myself picking up my phone to dial my Mom. I was going to tell her how miserable I felt and how the heat wasn’t helping. I parked, turned the engine off, and cried. It’s incredible how you notice every void left behind. It is even more incredible to see how much of my life was filled by the joy my mother gave me. Her constant words of encouragement and the words that stung when spoken.

Love

It is hard for my heart to understand how life keeps moving when such a huge part of it is gone. I wish I could say it is easier this time around. I was recently asked how I do it. How do I keep moving forward? I wish I had an answer for you. I wish I could tell you that I simply eat a lot of kale and that makes it happen for me. Jesus helps me a lot. A lot, a lot ( as Lei would say). I find it so filling to list all the things I am hurt by, disappointed by, and am completely angry about and to let Jesus know. I tell him what I feel (the days I can muster words) and let him know that I am angry and that I don’t think I can get it together that day. So I carry the anger, the hurt, the pain around for as long as I think I can carry it and then I hand it over to him. I find Him much better at dealing with all the baggage. He always takes it, but I pick it up again.

Papa and Lei

At the beginning of the post I wrote about honesty and responsibility. This is my point in this round about post, I have hardly felt ok the past 5 months. I work extremely hard on smiling every day and choosing joy. I have reminders on my phone, in the bathroom mirror, and in every corner of my brain. Reminders that I can and will feel joy come to me without so much work. I have to remind myself to be gentle and kind with myself. To embrace every emotion and not stuff it in the closet. I am a work in progress and my brokeness is being molded. Whatever your brokeness may be, I hope you know you can face it all with Jesus. He takes baby steps, I should know, because He is taking them with me, again. This season will have its end.

My Mother’s Joy

Heart Made Whole

July 15, 2017July 15, 2017Leave a comment

Today I let it all out as I drove. It wasn’t my intention but before I knew it, the trickle of tears turned into a waterfall. It is a mixture of anger and disappointment. I am angry at this horrible disease that preys upon people. No one “loses” a battle against cancer. It is not possible. It is not a battle when we are not given the tools to be able to fight fairly. Yet, cancer affects so many people, and brave they are for giving it there all.

I am disappointed that I wasn’t able to decide how my mom’s life would end. I prayed. I pleaded with God. I called upon him to do something. I got angry, then cried. Then, I did it all over again. No matter how things looked, my heart remained still, just like my mothers. We stood beside her, believing. But my miracle didn’t portray itself the way I expected.

In my experience with grief, the emotions are always unpredictable and I never know what will be a trigger for me. But today, as I drove, I realized that I have been coping by not thinking about it. And although it may be difficult for you to understand, I’ve been waiting for my mom to walk through my door. If I sit in my living room, I can look outside and see her sliding down the jungle gym slide, with her huge smile, holding on tightly to Nate and Aria. When I get in her car, I can hold my breath, as I wait for her to open the door and slide into the passenger seat. I can hear her say, “Ay, Lita” to something we both find peculiar. It takes a couple seconds for my heart to realize she won’t be coming in.

My feelings are justified. Every single feeling. Often times, society expects one to “recover” from the loss of a loved one but after such an immense loss, is it a fair expectation to expect anyone to ever go back to the person they were? Years ago I wrote a piece on the process of being broken and repaired with gold (Kintsukuroi). This gift, of being able to repair a piece with gold and make it more beautiful then it was to begin with, is difficult to do, but it is quite the sight. Its brokeness, once thought to be the end, only increased its value.

I can see the melted gold, moving slowly like lava, filling every crevasse, every hole, every crack, mending even the tiniest fracture. There isn’t anything more perfect than gold- a precious element not vulnarable to oxidation or corrosion. God is my gold. Jesus is my gold. The Holy Spirit is my gold. And though I can’t feel the precious yellow metallic element moving through my brokeness, I know it is there and it is coming. I await its eruption onto my broken soul. There is no doubt in my mind that I will be made whole, again.