Friday, November 30, 2018

Every day-

I'm going to write something, every. single. day. 
and guess what?!-you're all going to be my accountability peeps.
You. Are. Welcome.

I needed a good laugh today...

I spend all day writing in my head.  Telling stories and storing up memories, cataloging the moments, composing the words that I want to share.
And then I forget them all.
Because I don't write them down.
And I don't take the time because the sheer weight of living with ever present grief and pain, coupled with painful circumstances that have separated us from those we love, has short-circuited so much of how I used to deal with life.  And revealed with startling clarity the flaws in how I do now.  

As I was looking for pictures recently to put in frames for the past 3 Christmases, I was shocked at how few pictures I take now.  How often I let the moments slip by, because taking pictures that don't have all of my people in them sometimes feel like a betrayal.  It takes a tremendous amount of emotional effort to keep myself together, so the fluff of life tends to get overlooked.  A LOT.

Last night, when Eva and I rolled in from performance #1 of Nutcracker weekend, the freight train of emotions that I've held (mostly) in check through the last few months slammed into my heart and spirit.  As I watched Eva dance in her first queen role in 8 years of Nutcracker seasons, the pain of knowing I'd never see Mercy do the same or watch Sammy's eyes light up watching them both took my breath away. And all over again, I'm on my proverbial knees trying desperately to catch my breath and not literally die from grief.
Eva's Lead Maid too-and this year, Mercy would have been just the right age to play Clara.  Maybe they would have been on that stage together. No-I know they would have.  Because Mercy would have been the perfect Clara.  Bright and beautiful, graceful and elegant, eyes filled with wonder and joy.  She probably would have convinced her brothers to get on that stage with her.  Maybe even Charley, although that would have been a miracle in and of itself.

My Eva should be dancing with her sister, dazzling with their bright smiles and sweet sister love.  

Yesterday, as we drove to Nutcracker, both a little dreary from hurting hearts, we started listening to music for Eva's solo this year.  Every year since Mercy and Sam left us, Eva has poured her heart into dancing for them at recital.  Some years it's flawless, other years it's painful and stilted as she tries to dance through the weight of grief and teenage angst.  But-it takes my breath away, every. single. time.  She doesn't speak her grief the way I do.  She dances it.  She processes it through music that touches her spirit and speaks for the holes in her soul.  And she always surprises me with the depth of her thoughts and how she remembers them.

My life is hard.  and painful and exhausting.
But-
it's also SO. VERY. BLESSED.

And NO-not, #blessed because I just got a free coffee or my outfit is just right.
Blessed because I am a child of God, a God who loves and cares for each member of my family by using the Holy Spirit to speak love, grace and fellowship into our lives through others.
Blessed by the family and friends, fellow bereaved parents, and even complete strangers who seek to find ways to love on us.
Blessed by my steady as a rock husband and my incredible children.
Blessed by the abundance of "gifts" He continues to give, even when I doubt, when I'm angry and when I push Him away.
Blessed.

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. 
James 1:17 


love,
clan mac mama

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