My best friend and I were walking in the woods near her cottage, talking as we do about all nature of things, laughing and crying intermittently without shame as you can best do with your closest friend. I had left my marriage just recently and she would only five months later lose her mom to cancer, a fact neither of us would have ever imagined that snowy last day of December 2006. She was telling me about her eldest daughter’s friend who was taking sharp left turns from good sense, as teenagers seem to do without warning. My friend wanted to point to something and she came up with “she is from a broken family”. This excuse protected her because she and her husband are happy and together. The word ‘broken’ grabbed my stomach and gave it a twist. I turned to her and said ‘that is the last time you will use that term.’
I could never settle for fine or flat; my children were allowed grief and sadness but I would not permit them to fall down. I kept reminding myself and in time them, that our family was not broken but fixed.
I am the girl who married the boy she loved, had two beautiful babies with him and some very good memories.
I am the girl who could no longer sit with what she knew, what she felt, what she could no longer pretend.
I am the girl who had to say it is over.
When it is over, there is a blank slate. Dreams are empty, bed is empty, hopes are empty, heart is empty.
Or it is full. Full of possibility, full of empowerment,full of hope, full steam ahead.
It is a choice. Or maybe it is a natural inclination. Some are better at fighting back when life kicks the shit out of you. I fought back and life rewarded me. Every positive step brought a positive consequence putting bounce into the next positive step.
This is my blog on miracles in difficult times; doing the impossible when it has to be done. Come to it. I know you will inspire me far more than I will inspire you.