Well, this post has been a long time coming. Life continues to progress. I'm almost another year older. I'm a wife again to another wonderful and amazing man. I'm also now a mom. It's an incredible journey. Life is strange and beautiful and God loves to surprise us and pour unexpected blessings in the most unlikely of ways. I can't believe how privileged I am. I would venture to say most people are not so loved by three guys in their lives. I still think of, miss, and love Nathan. Always will. But I think Nathan would be glad that I have happiness and love in my life. I think he would be glad I'm someone's mommy. I've seen God continue to work in my life. I'm excited to see how He'll work in this new family, in my new husband, and in our son.
I also have a new job, which I've already talked some about. Yep, I'm a full-time wife and mom now. I didn't return to the corporate world following my maternity leave. This new job is mind-blowing. Some days are psycho-crazy, some days are low-key, some are boring. There are no vacation days, no time off, no sick days (which terrifies me!) The pay and benefits are killer though. I get paid in spit-up and smiles, giggles, hugs and compliments. I love taking care of both of these guys. One currently requires more "care." But I love doing the "50s mom" thing of having dinner on the table when my honey gets home from work. (No, I don't wear pearls when I vacuum. That is, when I find the time to vacuum...) But I LOVE this new job!
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Friday, December 4, 2009
Holidays
Thanksgiving has come and gone. And I had (and continue to have) so much to be grateful for. I went to Tennesse and spent a wonderful, and wonderfully long, weekend with my family. It was, as always, great to be "home." I think the place where our family resides always holds an aspect of home, regardless of how long we've been gone. I don't know what time and the future holds as far as where I'll live. But TN will always be one of my homes. It was truly a delightful time - seeing all the kiddos, doing a lot of laughing and smiling. Yes, I missed Nate. But I know he's better than fine. That comforts me when, in my frailty, I wish he were still here.
I will admit, now that I'm a few days into December, the month is catching me off-guard. I know what's coming. The first anniversary. I already am thinking of and missing him more than usual. I haven't set up my Christmas tree yet but know I will soon. I don't know if it will be solely blue and silver or if it will incorporate ornaments of the past as well... guess I'll find out as I'm doing it! :)
I'm reminded once again of a couple of things - grief sucks; God is sufficient. There is a line I recently heard, well, *really* heard in a Relient K song. It says, "The beauty of grace is that it makes life not fair." It was a kind reminder of something I've clung to over the past 18 months. I know I've said it before. I don't care. I'll say it again, to remind me and anyone else who needs the reminder - Life's not fair. And I am so glad because I've been given so much more than I deserve. So, as I approach Christmas and the anniversary of Nathan's passing, I'll celebrate life's unfairness. I have a God who cared enough about stupid me that His son became a lowly baby in order to live an innocent life, die a tragic death, and conquer that death so that I have Hope. I got to be married for a long time (though certainly not long enough) to a good man, good provider, good Christian, good friend. And it was all encompassed in one person! I know what it is to be loved. That's a pretty huge and definitely undeserved blessing. And it's one I'll never take for granted. Nor will I ever settle for less. Because I know love is real, it can last, and I am capable, however undeserving, of being loved. And I know how to love. I want to make sure I remember and practice that every day for as long as I live.
I will admit, now that I'm a few days into December, the month is catching me off-guard. I know what's coming. The first anniversary. I already am thinking of and missing him more than usual. I haven't set up my Christmas tree yet but know I will soon. I don't know if it will be solely blue and silver or if it will incorporate ornaments of the past as well... guess I'll find out as I'm doing it! :)
I'm reminded once again of a couple of things - grief sucks; God is sufficient. There is a line I recently heard, well, *really* heard in a Relient K song. It says, "The beauty of grace is that it makes life not fair." It was a kind reminder of something I've clung to over the past 18 months. I know I've said it before. I don't care. I'll say it again, to remind me and anyone else who needs the reminder - Life's not fair. And I am so glad because I've been given so much more than I deserve. So, as I approach Christmas and the anniversary of Nathan's passing, I'll celebrate life's unfairness. I have a God who cared enough about stupid me that His son became a lowly baby in order to live an innocent life, die a tragic death, and conquer that death so that I have Hope. I got to be married for a long time (though certainly not long enough) to a good man, good provider, good Christian, good friend. And it was all encompassed in one person! I know what it is to be loved. That's a pretty huge and definitely undeserved blessing. And it's one I'll never take for granted. Nor will I ever settle for less. Because I know love is real, it can last, and I am capable, however undeserving, of being loved. And I know how to love. I want to make sure I remember and practice that every day for as long as I live.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Death is strange
It's amazing how death affects us all different ways, at different times, directly or otherwise. Last week, I faced death again in two ways. A woman at work unexpectedly lost her daughter, who was the mother of five, including a one-month-old. Someone close to me dealt with the anniversary of his father's death. Neither of these has anything to do with me, or with Nathan. Yet it affected me. It forced me to think (ugh!) and deal with emotions. For those of you who don't know me, I'm not a huge fan of thinking. Emotions, I'm ok with. But thinking is highly overrated.
I asked a good friend why I keep reacting the way I do when someone at work passes away or copes with a loss in their life. I honestly didn't understand. I mean, I'm a pretty compassionate person. My heart hurts for those who suffer. I empathize. But I don't cry every time I watch the news. And yet, at work, it is so impactful. My friend, who has brilliant insight, pointed out that my own journey with Nate's cancer and subsequent death started at work. She's right. That's where I was when the word "tumor" first came into my life. I didn't realize how work still affects me. Even just being here sometimes. I cannot run away from everything that will ever trigger an emotion - otherwise, I'm avoiding Life, avoiding Healing, avoiding Hope, and surrendering to an unhealthy grief. But I do find it strange that I couldn't pinpoint that. I can handle talking about Nate, telling people about his disease, our life together, our journey through his illness, his death, my life since then. But I think oftentimes we are too close to have insight into our own lives and conditions.
The person coping with the anniversary of his father's death prompted me to ask him questions. And understand my own coping. Yes, I still talk to Nate. Not all the time. Not even every day. But I do. And I won't apologize. (No, he doesn't talk back.) Sometimes I ask him questions, what's he's doing, seeing, experiencing. I'll ask his opinion on what's going on in my life. But I'm left to ponder those questions alone. I'll not get an answer. And that's ok.
That's when I remind myself that I, through God, am enough. I can make decisions. I can deal with consequences. I am strong enough. A lot of that is because I was privileged enough to be married to a smart guy with a good, practical head on his shoulders. Turns out, he rubbed off (a little bit.) :) But I also know he thought I was a smart woman who would be ok. I love that he looked out for and took care of me. I hope someday I again have someone who wants to take on that burden permanently. I hope I get to take on the burden of taking care of someone else. But I'm ok. The best compliment Nate ever paid me (and anyone else probably ever will) was telling me I am a rose with roots of steel. Yeah, I'm ok.
I asked a good friend why I keep reacting the way I do when someone at work passes away or copes with a loss in their life. I honestly didn't understand. I mean, I'm a pretty compassionate person. My heart hurts for those who suffer. I empathize. But I don't cry every time I watch the news. And yet, at work, it is so impactful. My friend, who has brilliant insight, pointed out that my own journey with Nate's cancer and subsequent death started at work. She's right. That's where I was when the word "tumor" first came into my life. I didn't realize how work still affects me. Even just being here sometimes. I cannot run away from everything that will ever trigger an emotion - otherwise, I'm avoiding Life, avoiding Healing, avoiding Hope, and surrendering to an unhealthy grief. But I do find it strange that I couldn't pinpoint that. I can handle talking about Nate, telling people about his disease, our life together, our journey through his illness, his death, my life since then. But I think oftentimes we are too close to have insight into our own lives and conditions.
The person coping with the anniversary of his father's death prompted me to ask him questions. And understand my own coping. Yes, I still talk to Nate. Not all the time. Not even every day. But I do. And I won't apologize. (No, he doesn't talk back.) Sometimes I ask him questions, what's he's doing, seeing, experiencing. I'll ask his opinion on what's going on in my life. But I'm left to ponder those questions alone. I'll not get an answer. And that's ok.
That's when I remind myself that I, through God, am enough. I can make decisions. I can deal with consequences. I am strong enough. A lot of that is because I was privileged enough to be married to a smart guy with a good, practical head on his shoulders. Turns out, he rubbed off (a little bit.) :) But I also know he thought I was a smart woman who would be ok. I love that he looked out for and took care of me. I hope someday I again have someone who wants to take on that burden permanently. I hope I get to take on the burden of taking care of someone else. But I'm ok. The best compliment Nate ever paid me (and anyone else probably ever will) was telling me I am a rose with roots of steel. Yeah, I'm ok.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Cancer
As I am sure you're all aware, October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. Pink is everywhere, as are ribbon-shaped items all in conjunction with bringing this disease to the forefront of consciousness. Some people are offended by this because they feel all cancer should be paid equal heed. I can only speak for me. Personally, I have no objection to there being different months, organizations, fundraisers, etc for various cancers. The truth of the matter is, some cancers are more preventable or controlled by behavioral factors. Some are more common. Some have higher success rates of beating with early detection. Breast cancer is the most frequently found cancer for women, aside from skin cancer. It is also the second-most deadly cancer for women. However, it also currently has an 89% 5-year survival rate. So, why shouldn't early detection be promoted to help rid something that is not preventable, but is detectable and, in many circumstances, treatable?
I support the leukemia-lymphoma society. I'm all for the colo-rectal cancer calendar. But I'm not going to get worked up because our nation has decided to focus for a month on breast cancer when my husband died of cholangiocarcinoma. Yes, I would like his disease to get more attention. Yes, I would like there to be more research and funding poured into it. But it is much more rare, which means that funding would help fewer people. It's diagnosed 2,000 - 3,000 times a year in the U.S., as opposed to over 190,000 expected cases of breast cancer this year. For cholangiocarcinoma that can be operated on, the 5-year survival rate is 20-40%. Unfortunately, the majority of diagnoses occur beyond the point of surgery being possible. Without surgery, the rate is less than 10%. If the two cancers must be compared, I'm all for saving lives through awareness and early detection. I would love for there to have been something that could have saved Nathan's life. But that was not to be. I refuse to become bitter or angry because his cancer didn't get enough attention. And, knowing Nate, he would not have wished someone else had to suffer or die so he could live. He didn't bring this disease upon himself. But he bore his final burden as a warrior.
I support the leukemia-lymphoma society. I'm all for the colo-rectal cancer calendar. But I'm not going to get worked up because our nation has decided to focus for a month on breast cancer when my husband died of cholangiocarcinoma. Yes, I would like his disease to get more attention. Yes, I would like there to be more research and funding poured into it. But it is much more rare, which means that funding would help fewer people. It's diagnosed 2,000 - 3,000 times a year in the U.S., as opposed to over 190,000 expected cases of breast cancer this year. For cholangiocarcinoma that can be operated on, the 5-year survival rate is 20-40%. Unfortunately, the majority of diagnoses occur beyond the point of surgery being possible. Without surgery, the rate is less than 10%. If the two cancers must be compared, I'm all for saving lives through awareness and early detection. I would love for there to have been something that could have saved Nathan's life. But that was not to be. I refuse to become bitter or angry because his cancer didn't get enough attention. And, knowing Nate, he would not have wished someone else had to suffer or die so he could live. He didn't bring this disease upon himself. But he bore his final burden as a warrior.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Amazing Grace
October 1, 2009
A lot has happened since my last entry. The first thing that comes to mind is September 20th. This was the first month that the 20th came and went without notice or recognition that it was the date of the month on which Nathan slipped away. I realized it the morning of the 21st. For a split second, I had guilt. I know beyond doubt that was an attack from the enemy. But it was rapidly replaced with the Lord’s peace and relief. He reminded me I am not shackled to guilt nor is my identity in death. Rather, it is a sign I am moving forward. The most striking thing about this was the recollection of a conversation I had with another widow about six months before in which I distinctly remember asking “Will I ever see the 20th of a month without pain and sorrow?” She assured time and Christ would create a salve on that wound, providing it comfort and taking away death’s sting. I had a hard time believing her at the time. She was right, I am thrilled to report.
I have come to another realization that I’m not thrilled with myself about. This is strictly self-study and criticism. This is not to be taken as me critiquing anyone else. That’s not my place. I am the last to judge anyone. I have realized that as a Christian, it is extremely easy for me to become complacent and lazy in my pursuit of Christ and of holiness. I rely too heavily on what I already know and believe to seek and to question. I am so grateful beyond description for my salvation. But I have become very lackadaisical and unenthusiastic in pursuing a deeper knowledge and closer relationship with an Almighty God and Perfect Father. This realization has come very slowly (as previously mentioned, I’m a little slow on the uptake.) I have had amazing conversations with someone who was raised very differently from me and who is getting to know who God is and what He is about so as to make a decision regarding faith and belief. This person has my utmost respect in his questions and pursuit of knowledge. Whereas I have “always” believed, he is searching with an adult heart. I am beginning to understand better the phrase “faith of a child.” I believe it is easier to trust in and believe in God when one is not jaded by experience and time. However, God can capture hearts at any time in life if hearts are open.But I digress. This person recently made a very astute observation. We were discussing the opening lyrics to the hymn “Amazing Grace.” “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.” We got to that part and he turned to me and said, “That’s what I am – a wretch.” How he has such a deep understanding of the frail human condition is remarkably astute. I sometimes forget I’m just a wretch. But the conversation progressed and I told him, “we are all wretches. That’s how God finds us all. But it’s not how He leaves us. We’re all wretches, some of us are just forgiven and washed in the blood.”Tonight, this conversation came back with resonance and penetrated my heart deeper. God took his words and mine and is mining me deeper with them. We are wretched. Nothing we can ever do will change that fact. But God does not feed us a bowlful and turn away, leaving us dirty and hungry, asking, “Please sir. Can I have some more?” like Oliver. No. God looks at the dirty wretch, the Oliver, the prodigal child and scoops us in His arms. Dirty, smelly, gross, grimy. But the cool thing is that God hasn’t waited just for our outstretched arms. He pursues us. He scans the horizon, screaming our name, begging and calling us to come home and be forgiven. He runs to meet the wretch. He puts nice clothes on icky bodies. He puts rings on dingy hands and kisses filthy cheeks and heads. Just like a Daddy. He brings us into to the best chair, warms us by the fire, cleans us with warm soapy water to wash away the stench and make us feel as treasured as we are. He cleans us, not for His sake but for our own. He holds us close as we sink into His deep chest wrapped tightly in His arms. He feeds us warm food and gives us deep blankets on a soft bed to rest. He makes Oliver the prince. He makes the wretch an heir. His love is not conditional. His love comes first. Our response to His love should be obedience. My response to His love and grace and compassion and mercy should be an unbridled pursuit to know Him better. As God opens my eyes and heart through conversations and musings of one who does not know Him, I am convicted to seek and know Him more. As this person recently reminded me when he found this passage in Matthew he liked, it is the sick that need the doctor, not the well. I pray God continues to remind me that I’m still sick, just healed by continual doses of Godly medicine.
A lot has happened since my last entry. The first thing that comes to mind is September 20th. This was the first month that the 20th came and went without notice or recognition that it was the date of the month on which Nathan slipped away. I realized it the morning of the 21st. For a split second, I had guilt. I know beyond doubt that was an attack from the enemy. But it was rapidly replaced with the Lord’s peace and relief. He reminded me I am not shackled to guilt nor is my identity in death. Rather, it is a sign I am moving forward. The most striking thing about this was the recollection of a conversation I had with another widow about six months before in which I distinctly remember asking “Will I ever see the 20th of a month without pain and sorrow?” She assured time and Christ would create a salve on that wound, providing it comfort and taking away death’s sting. I had a hard time believing her at the time. She was right, I am thrilled to report.
I have come to another realization that I’m not thrilled with myself about. This is strictly self-study and criticism. This is not to be taken as me critiquing anyone else. That’s not my place. I am the last to judge anyone. I have realized that as a Christian, it is extremely easy for me to become complacent and lazy in my pursuit of Christ and of holiness. I rely too heavily on what I already know and believe to seek and to question. I am so grateful beyond description for my salvation. But I have become very lackadaisical and unenthusiastic in pursuing a deeper knowledge and closer relationship with an Almighty God and Perfect Father. This realization has come very slowly (as previously mentioned, I’m a little slow on the uptake.) I have had amazing conversations with someone who was raised very differently from me and who is getting to know who God is and what He is about so as to make a decision regarding faith and belief. This person has my utmost respect in his questions and pursuit of knowledge. Whereas I have “always” believed, he is searching with an adult heart. I am beginning to understand better the phrase “faith of a child.” I believe it is easier to trust in and believe in God when one is not jaded by experience and time. However, God can capture hearts at any time in life if hearts are open.But I digress. This person recently made a very astute observation. We were discussing the opening lyrics to the hymn “Amazing Grace.” “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.” We got to that part and he turned to me and said, “That’s what I am – a wretch.” How he has such a deep understanding of the frail human condition is remarkably astute. I sometimes forget I’m just a wretch. But the conversation progressed and I told him, “we are all wretches. That’s how God finds us all. But it’s not how He leaves us. We’re all wretches, some of us are just forgiven and washed in the blood.”Tonight, this conversation came back with resonance and penetrated my heart deeper. God took his words and mine and is mining me deeper with them. We are wretched. Nothing we can ever do will change that fact. But God does not feed us a bowlful and turn away, leaving us dirty and hungry, asking, “Please sir. Can I have some more?” like Oliver. No. God looks at the dirty wretch, the Oliver, the prodigal child and scoops us in His arms. Dirty, smelly, gross, grimy. But the cool thing is that God hasn’t waited just for our outstretched arms. He pursues us. He scans the horizon, screaming our name, begging and calling us to come home and be forgiven. He runs to meet the wretch. He puts nice clothes on icky bodies. He puts rings on dingy hands and kisses filthy cheeks and heads. Just like a Daddy. He brings us into to the best chair, warms us by the fire, cleans us with warm soapy water to wash away the stench and make us feel as treasured as we are. He cleans us, not for His sake but for our own. He holds us close as we sink into His deep chest wrapped tightly in His arms. He feeds us warm food and gives us deep blankets on a soft bed to rest. He makes Oliver the prince. He makes the wretch an heir. His love is not conditional. His love comes first. Our response to His love should be obedience. My response to His love and grace and compassion and mercy should be an unbridled pursuit to know Him better. As God opens my eyes and heart through conversations and musings of one who does not know Him, I am convicted to seek and know Him more. As this person recently reminded me when he found this passage in Matthew he liked, it is the sick that need the doctor, not the well. I pray God continues to remind me that I’m still sick, just healed by continual doses of Godly medicine.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Two postings...
Tuesday August 11, 2009. So, the first of the firsts has come and gone. Guess what? I survived it too. God is still God and Life is still good. Saturday was a challenging day. But not horrible. Friday I kept thinking of what I would be doing if the turn of events hadn’t changed the way they had. Prepping dinner, planning to take him out, figuring out what movie to see, etc. None of those happened. I had some quiet, reflective moments Saturday. I even teared up a time or two. But the day was, overall, fine. The tears didn’t fall until Sunday. I was getting ready for my trip (I’m writing this entry at 30,000 feet.) I was emptying the memory card from my camera onto the computer and going through old photos. Needless to say, many were of Nate. I was struck by something - a conversation I had with my mother a couple of days before. Some friends were over at mom & dad’s for dinner Friday night and they noticed the photos in the hall. They were particularly struck by the photo of Nathan & me. I think because of how happy we look and the genuine spark and twinkle of life in Nate’s eyes and smile. Mom told them the picture was taken a mere 6 weeks before we learned of his illness, diagnosis, and prognosis. During my conversation with mom, we came to the conclusion of what a blessing the timing was because of the light in his eyes. We somehow doubted it would have been there if he knew he would die soon. I seriously doubt the genuine peace and happiness on my own countenance would have remained. Anywho, I was looking through the photos on my memory card. The pictures of Nate were post-illness. The tears poured as I saw his sweet face, smile, and yes – the same genuine spark of life and joy and peace and contentment was there in his eyes. Just like always. I called Mom to tell her she was wrong. There were pictures of him still playing with his nephews and being silly. And then, my heart just broke. The youngest of the nephews, who was barely more than a year when they came to visit us in Kansas City, was sitting on Uncle Nate’s lap, just grinning as big a smile as he could. The smile on those two faces, and knowing that my nephew won’t have memories to cling to of his uncle just wrecked me.
I’m getting very excited about my trip to the beach. This is the first time I’ll have been to the ocean in about five years. Waaayyyyy too long for my taste. I’m looking forward to the company as well. I don’t believe I’ve ever been on vacation with just my mother (at least, not as an adult.) I think our time together will be amazing, since she is one of my dearest friends. But I know there will be challenging moments as well. As silly as it may sound, I’m still not used to flying or going on trips alone. I usually look for a seat in between two people or at least, by one. I rarely go for the open row. (I know someone will sit next to me eventually anyway; at least this way I get to kind of pick.) I know I will be very aware of not being at Nathan’s side, sitting on the beach. But I keep reminding myself that God will still be at my side, as He always has been and always will be. Empty chairs are never truly empty. And, in some way, yes – I’m bringing Nate to the beach too.
August 26,2009. He time at the beach with my mother was wonderful. It was such a blessing. We spent a lot of time in the water, a lot of time lying happily on the beach. We spent time in the pool, taking relaxing naps, going to the movies, and of course shopping! It wasn’t the activities that made the trip wonderful, though. It was the company and the respite I personally have always found at the ocean. One night we were walking along the beach after dinner. The waves were creeping up higher on the shore, erasing the footprints, bird tracks, sand castles, and holes from the day. I just stood there and watched as the sand turned into a pristine canvas for the next day’s activities. Truly a blank slate. Then a very comforting phrase came to mind, “His mercies are new every morning.” That phrase has never come so alive and been so real and glaringly obvious to me as it was at that moment. That’s how God’s love and mercy is. It erases the mess of the day, making it new and clean and perfect again. I will never understand why I continue to fall short, why I continue to make a mess of my life, and why I have a Father who forgives me anew every day, without fail, no matter how big of a mess I make. But I know He does. Everytime. As far as the east is from the west. With an ocean in the middle.
My birthday was a challenge, but God’s grace was there. It wasn’t easy. But I never have to have another “first” birthday again. There was definitely sorrow. There was also joy. This trip was the right thing at the right time with the right company.
I’m getting very excited about my trip to the beach. This is the first time I’ll have been to the ocean in about five years. Waaayyyyy too long for my taste. I’m looking forward to the company as well. I don’t believe I’ve ever been on vacation with just my mother (at least, not as an adult.) I think our time together will be amazing, since she is one of my dearest friends. But I know there will be challenging moments as well. As silly as it may sound, I’m still not used to flying or going on trips alone. I usually look for a seat in between two people or at least, by one. I rarely go for the open row. (I know someone will sit next to me eventually anyway; at least this way I get to kind of pick.) I know I will be very aware of not being at Nathan’s side, sitting on the beach. But I keep reminding myself that God will still be at my side, as He always has been and always will be. Empty chairs are never truly empty. And, in some way, yes – I’m bringing Nate to the beach too.
August 26,2009. He time at the beach with my mother was wonderful. It was such a blessing. We spent a lot of time in the water, a lot of time lying happily on the beach. We spent time in the pool, taking relaxing naps, going to the movies, and of course shopping! It wasn’t the activities that made the trip wonderful, though. It was the company and the respite I personally have always found at the ocean. One night we were walking along the beach after dinner. The waves were creeping up higher on the shore, erasing the footprints, bird tracks, sand castles, and holes from the day. I just stood there and watched as the sand turned into a pristine canvas for the next day’s activities. Truly a blank slate. Then a very comforting phrase came to mind, “His mercies are new every morning.” That phrase has never come so alive and been so real and glaringly obvious to me as it was at that moment. That’s how God’s love and mercy is. It erases the mess of the day, making it new and clean and perfect again. I will never understand why I continue to fall short, why I continue to make a mess of my life, and why I have a Father who forgives me anew every day, without fail, no matter how big of a mess I make. But I know He does. Everytime. As far as the east is from the west. With an ocean in the middle.
My birthday was a challenge, but God’s grace was there. It wasn’t easy. But I never have to have another “first” birthday again. There was definitely sorrow. There was also joy. This trip was the right thing at the right time with the right company.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Two Firsts in Eight Days
I don't even know how to say the phrase. Tomorrow "is" Nathan's birthday. "would be" his birthday. "would have been"... I don't know what the right terminology is. Anyways, August 8th is the day Nathan was born. I don't know what I'll do nor do I know how I'll feel. I know it will be difficult. I know it won't feel normal or even right. I'm trying to find positives in it though. After all, God shared Nathan with this world for 35 years. That's pretty cool. I'm focusing on the adventures Nate has in his new life and knowing I don't have to worry about him anymore, with his suffering from cancer or just get older in general. I know he's fine. I know he's happy. But man, is tomorrow gonna suck!
The second "first" I'll face over the next eight days will be my birthday. My first without Nate. My first since the diagnosis. And my last birthday? Not great. That was the day everything started to tank. That was the beginning of my world being upended. It was supposed to be a milestone. It was, but not as we planned. So, I'm not sure what to think of it. I don't feel like I'm about to be 31. I don't feel like I ever turned 30. (Heck, I still act like I'm 12 but that's another issue.) According to the calendar, 31 is almost here, though. I've always loved birthdays & looked forward to them. I'm not sure what to think of this one. I want to be excited. But part of me is dreading it and part of me is despising it. Only time will tell.
But God still has beautiful things planned for my life (thanks for the reminder, Bryce!)
So, I'm heading to the beach next week with my mother. I've been yearning for the sun, the salty air, and the calm that comes with the constancy of the pounding of waves. It's been five years since I've been to an ocean. I thought the week between Nathan's birthday and my own would be the perfect time to seek solace and respite. That, I AM looking forward to. Couldn't ask for a better companion. My plan is to sit on the beach and just BREATHE.
The second "first" I'll face over the next eight days will be my birthday. My first without Nate. My first since the diagnosis. And my last birthday? Not great. That was the day everything started to tank. That was the beginning of my world being upended. It was supposed to be a milestone. It was, but not as we planned. So, I'm not sure what to think of it. I don't feel like I'm about to be 31. I don't feel like I ever turned 30. (Heck, I still act like I'm 12 but that's another issue.) According to the calendar, 31 is almost here, though. I've always loved birthdays & looked forward to them. I'm not sure what to think of this one. I want to be excited. But part of me is dreading it and part of me is despising it. Only time will tell.
But God still has beautiful things planned for my life (thanks for the reminder, Bryce!)
So, I'm heading to the beach next week with my mother. I've been yearning for the sun, the salty air, and the calm that comes with the constancy of the pounding of waves. It's been five years since I've been to an ocean. I thought the week between Nathan's birthday and my own would be the perfect time to seek solace and respite. That, I AM looking forward to. Couldn't ask for a better companion. My plan is to sit on the beach and just BREATHE.
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