Kickin' & Screamin'

Today is the second.  September second.  One year ago today I began living a life that I never imagined.  A life that happens to other people.  A life you read about in books.  And I’ve been wrong about so much over the past year.  Every expectation I had was wrong.  I thought I would know when the hard cries would come.  Obviously, it would be on special occasions, times when his absence hit me the hardest, correct?  No.  The cries would happen on a random Tuesday afternoon, or at the grocery store, or as I watched my daughter do her homework.  I expected that it would be extremely difficult to get back to a normal routine of teaching, being a Mom, taking care of the house, and other daily stuff that you wake up to each morning.  But again, I was wrong.  I’m sure it was God’s hand pushing me through each day, but I did it. I’ve done it for a year now, and it seems very normal.   Shortly after he died, I assumed the monthly anniversary of his death would be hard.  But as I’ve written before, the second of each month was somehow a blessing of a day that I actually survived with joy.  I was wrong about that also.  I thought today would be enormously difficult.  And I will admit that this past week, leading up to this particular day, was pretty emotional.  I got very little sleep, I have nice, nice bags under my eyes, and I felt quite smothered with the fact that the year anniversary was coming, dreading it.  And I eerily woke up at 12:15 this morning, staring at the clock by my bed, unable to blink my eyes, realizing that today was finally here.  It was September second.  But I did something I hadn’t done a good job of all week.  I went back to sleep.  I slept soundly.  I felt pretty good when I awoke.   I enjoyed a day with my Mom, my amazing daughter, the sunshine on the lake, realizing once again, I was wrong.  Today was a good day.  I thought it would be so hard.  It simply wasn’t.

I am most impressed by my daughter.  Everything about her amazes me.  I think she’s absolutely beautiful, but doesn’t every Mom think that about their daughter?  But it’s her beauty on the inside that blows my mind.  Her strength.  Her attitude.  We are opposites in many ways.  But our love for each other is mutual and strong.  She is my rock.  I’d like to think that I’m hers, but I honestly don’t think she needs a rock.  She’s simply astounding.

If I were to write an acceptance speech, like a celebrity on stage after winning the academy award…..a speech thanking the deserving people for helping me through this past year,  I would most definitely begin by thanking God for proving me wrong about just about everything.  If it had gone like I assumed it would, it would have been just about unbearable.  I’ve never been so thankful about being wrong.  Being wrong was a blessing.  A survival.

Of course, I’d thank my daughter for the strength and laughter she provides daily.  I’d toss in a thank you to a handful of dear friends who knew (miraculously) what to say and when to say it. Positive, encouraging, with a dose of the humor they know I live for.  They just got it.  I don’t know how they did…but they did.

I would end my speech by thanking my Mom.  My Mom is someone that I wish everyone could know.  I feel like people who don’t know my Mother are missing out on something in their life.  Her humor will leave you laughing so hard you honestly fear that you’ll pee your pants.  Her wisdom is almost spooky.  Her motherly love is divine, yet not smothering.  She’ll provide a hug when I need it, a sarcastic comment when it proves more valuable than the hug, and a “shake it off” when I’m worrying about something that’s out of my control.  My mom will be 71 next month, and I plan for her to live to be 100.  I know my plans haven’t gone very well here lately, but I feel pretty good about this one.

I’ll admit I’ve had some tough days, and I’ve taken on some strange coping mechanisms.  I may have accumulated a few more cats over the past year, and flying pigs.  Let me clarify, the cats are real….the flying pigs are collectors items.  OK fine, I guess I’m actually collecting the cats too, but they are real.  Anyway….there have been many times in my life when I might hear of something happening to someone, read about something bizarre, hear a sad story on the news, and think,  “That would never happen to me.”  Or, in a less serious way of speaking….would that ever happen to me?   …. “WHEN PIGS FLY!”

Yeah, well…..let me just tell you.  NEVER say never.  Anything can happen.  I certainly hope that none of you ever endure tragedy (or any more than you already have), and I hope your families stay in one healthy, happy piece.  But pray daily for that, and never assume you are above anything.

I was wrong about a lot.  Things DID happen to me.  So, I guess pigs CAN fly.  In my world, anyway.

I’ll keep collecting the pigs…going to try real hard to NOT keep collecting the cats (no promises).  But as I look for those pigs flying, I will keep in my mind that I’m the one who needs to fly.  Fly through this life here on earth knowing every day is a gift.

May you all fly.  God Bless.