You know that feeling you get when you know you are going to be sick? Your body seems to tremble uncontrollably, you start to perspire and you can feel your arm pits begin to itch from the sweat forming droplets. You try to breathe, focusing on the pace, in and out. The knot in your stomach is being twisted and squeezed, like a piece of clothing being washed against stone down by a river in Central America. Sounds severe, and yet, this is how I feel watching Nathan get ready for his XC meets. To anyone else, Nathan looks happy and calm, waiting for the whistle to blow. I can see through the shell. I can feel the tension in his body, the excitement and fear, all the emotions running through him as his eyes move from left to right, adjusting his posture, stretching his legs, shaking them out, as he stands next to his competition.

I ran cross country in high school, but I don’t remember ever feeling sick or nervous on meet days. Maybe I have blocked out the feelings. Nate starts feeling stomachaches on Monday’s  and as Wednesday roles around, he makes comments about the torture he will endure, half joking. I recently asked him if he wanted to stop. He glared at me and said, “why would I not run?”

It’s amazing to see how much we can endure, even when it feels like torture. Then you cross the finish line and what overwhelmed you then, is now replaced by joy and relief. When Nate crosses the finish line, he takes a couple second to walk around, compose himself, and then he gives me a big smile.

Yesterday was great! He finished strong and surprisingly the nerves were not overwhelming. As we drove to the meet, he said, “ Hey Mom, I don’t feel that nervous today.” Elea followed with, “Why?” and Nathan’s response was simple and clear, “I don’t know.” 

And isn’t this life? Sometimes we feel a certain way and we can’t pin point the cause, but we know it will get better. So, keep in mind the knot in your stomach will not be there forever. You too can shake it off. Happy Thursday! 

XO

Yesterday’s post I wrote 19 months ago, but never published.

Yesterday was a school holiday, but Eric and I had to work. So we decided to wake the kids up early and do some cross country training to help prepare Nate for his first race tomorrow. Nathan, as expected, ran circles around us and complained we were all too slow. Elea swore her legs were giving out, and she couldn’t take another step. Eric was striding along to his music and my mind went back in time, to my parents.

My mom and dad both enjoyed running, well, actually my mom did and I think my dad just went along with it. My siblings and I were paid for laps that we completed on weekdays when my parents would take the entire family running. My parents emphasized health and physical fitness. I was in it for the money, and thought running was hard. I always ended up with a side stitch, couldn’t keep up with my brother, who never left me behind, and never felt fit enough even though I was pretty active. But I was missing the point. As much as my parents wanted us to be healthy, my mom enjoyed walking and running with us. We would talk about everything and anything while going around in circles.

This morning, as I felt the morning’s chill, heard Elea’s complaining and Nathan’s laughter as he left us behind, I could hear mom’s laughter. I had to try very, very, very hard to keep up with Nathan, my face froze as I sped up, and in this moment, when all was quiet, I could almost touch mother’s love as it enveloped us. For all the moments of sadness, there are so many that will fill you with joy, and others that will be a combination of both. In these moments, embrace the feels, let the earth’s saltiness run down your cheeks, the smile take over your entire face and feel the love that transcends space.

XO

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.

XO