Category Archives: Thanksgiving

Glowing Great+Full

As I opened my blinds this Thanksgiving morning, the freshly-wet-from-rain, brown-orange-golden view made me pause. Millions of leaves lay disarray covering the ground in their final resting place. A few still clung to their branches, the trees almost appeared to be aching for them to finally let go. Each piece prepping for dark and stillness. Until next year…

The scape was simply stunning. The leaves going out with a bang. The scene made me recall a quote I had come across recently: “What are you going to do with all that dark?” “Find a way to glow in it.”

This year has been a life altering year. Having been put in situations I would have never dreamed of, there have been some dark moments. It’s been a time of crumbling, a time of changing, a time of letting go of a tree I was so deeply rooted in. Much of this year I have felt like a withered fall leaf floating, bouncing around controlled by a strong wind, trying desperately to find the ground – someplace firm to land – to finally rest.

Sipping my morning tea while trying to enjoy my favorite coffee cake and the view, I feel a sigh escape my body. In no way do things remotely resemble how I imagined them to be. It saddens my heart. I feel full. Full as in ‘that’s enough, please no more’. I need a breather. Can someone else tag in for a bit?

1124161017_hdr2_resized

As those feelings are toying with me, I glance down. My wrist reminder pulls me back. ‘Athas’ the Irish word for ‘Joy’. A token from a trip I took this year. A reminder. A saving grace. A word I fell in love with years ago. That word makes me crack a smile. I love when I see it pop up in life. It always makes me pause and take another look.

img_20161124_111329_resized

So I look again and when I look this time, instead of full I see great. My beautiful view. My little boy. My favorite coffee cake. A beautiful fall. The smell of a turkey smoking. My family. Pictures I adore that make my heart smile. A sweet four-legged little girl. The amazing ladies I work with. Trips with fun and fabulous people. Laughing. On point memes. The sun shining. My favorite tea in a mug that warms my heart. The massive amounts of texts of love and support I receive daily. My tribe. My fierce tribe. I am greatly full.

The year has been a harder one. Autumn is not an easy season as it is for my family. And where I am ‘full’ things are still ‘great’. My current state may be floating aimlessly through the dark in an uncontrollable wind, but there is still spark and color. I see it. I feel it. And I will find a way to glow in it. So many ‘great+full’ moments still ❤

You’re Here…

“When I look to the sky, something tells me you’re here with me.” ❤

I awaken early this morning which isn’t abnormal, but instead of rolling over to go back to sleep my heart all ready aches. The weight of November 28th always stings. I know my mind won’t let me fall back asleep, my thoughts are all ready too consumed of you. I get up. I have a task to do for a turkey anyways. Season it. My mood is grumpy. This time of year is usually emotional now. I feel cheated. The holiday season doesn’t ever feel complete anymore. Something always seems ‘off’.

It’s challenging. November 26th is my anniversary. A wonderful time, a happy time, a cherished time followed two days later by my least favorite memory. How do I not steal moments from my marriage with the impending dread of November 28th? I try hard to be more present during this time so I can focus on the moment I’m in, but it’s always there. I’ll find myself snappy or impatient or just plain grumpy, and at first I’m not sure where it’s coming from. When I stop to gain control of my emotions, I quickly realize it’s sadness speaking out.

Back to this turkey. Season it. I’m tiredly and admittedly cranky seasoning this turkey. I feel like the naked bird – bland. Wish I could throw some salt, pepper, garlic, thyme and sage on me and VOILA! Transformed. As these thoughts are running through my head, the sky through my kitchen window catches my eye. “Beautiful.” I mumble to myself. I finish my task, grab my phone and tea, and head for my safe haven – the back porch. It’s quite nice outside to be so late in November. I snap some pictures. I let the moment soak in. You’re here. This is you saying good morning. Thank you for coming on the morning I need it most. I feel a little uplifted.

Back inside I decide to make your trademark breakfast, oatmeal. But not the same this morning, with a twist. Spice it up. Season it. Transformed. (Btw- it was good. Link here: http://www.foodista.com/recipe/64CFRJ68/baked-smores-oatmeal)

1128150806_HDR~2

After getting dressed, we decide to go pick out a Christmas tree. I snap a picture of course making the 5 year old pose in front of the selected tree. I see the sun rays coming in on the image, but when I get home to really check it out one ray shines brighter than the rest. Yes, I see you. Thank you. We’ll take this tree home and season it too. Transformed.

1128150918_HDR~2

As I’m riding back home the car in front of me catches my attention. The last kind of car you drove. You’re definitely here, especially today.

1128150932a_HDR~2

The rest of the day provided more distraction than emotion. Which is a nice and needed break. You knew that too, didn’t you? You sat back, you watched, you smiled. You enjoyed seeing the laughs and grins and hugs throughout the day.

I felt you once again this evening. Watching my brother, at 29, tackle a new sport, hockey. Oh, you smirked (quite a few times), I felt it. Your presence was so close, a couple of times I thought I’d turn to my right and you’d be sitting there leaning back, arms crossed, long legs stretched out in front, with that smirk on your face you got when you were really tickled at something. You loved it. And were proud of your son (and probably slightly impressed too). My brother chose to try something new. Season it. Transformed.

1128151919a_HDR~2

Five years. Five. Has it really been five years since I’ve hugged your neck, held your hand, curled up in your lap (yes, even at 27 years old I would curl up in my daddy’s lap) or pecked those lips (yes, we’re ‘that family’ that goes for the lips)?

With blurry eyes as I’ve written this, a tear finally escapes and slides down my cheek just now. It makes it all the way to my neck. A chill sets in deep. To try and explain how time passes when a close loved one is lost is hard. Time flies by, as it often does in life, but at the same time it feels as though laughter or a touch or tears were just shared with the one suddenly missing. Wasn’t it just yesterday…

“Time heals all wounds.” I’m not particularly fond of this saying. When a wound heals, it leaves a scar, a reminder. You do get used to this new life without this special person, but time doesn’t make the loss any easier.

I saw a quote not long ago, “The wound is the place where light enters you.” It caught me where I least expected it to. There is truth here. But only if you allow it. I felt the light all day. It doesn’t take the pain away, but I smile through the tears. And I’m left – transformed.