Thursday, January 21, 2016

Therapy Time


I know what you're thinking.  Thank goodness!  It's about time that girl got herself in therapy.  She sure as hell needs it.

But alas, you are wrong.

Per usual, I'm self therapizing, but this time, it's in a super healthy and wonderful way.

On Saturday I leave for a much awaited, excessively needed, and very exciting week long solo trip to Mexico for rest, relaxation, reflection, and healing.  Twice daily yoga, spa treatments, the beach.

In short, my personal heaven.

I originally had this trip booked for September 19.  That didn't work out.  So I rebooked for post holidays when I anticipated being more able to reflect, more willing to truly enjoy myself, more capable of having a quiet mind, and more ready to receive all of the healing benefits of salt, sweat, and sun.

I'm ready, friends.  I.  Am.  Ready.

I haven't felt this optimistic in quite some time.  Since before you know what.

I catch glimpses of this optimism in my daily practice sessions on my mat, breathing and believing in and actually experiencing the healing powers of yoga as my therapy.  But I'm counting on a big jump forward here, not just a baby step.  I want more of a Paul Bunyon, Jolly Green Giant step that will catapult me forward, across boundaries and through these murky waters of grief and uncertainty.

I want to be certain.  Sure.  Changed.  Unrealistic?  Quite possibly.  But if you know me, you know I don't mess around.  I'm going for it and when I go for it, I cannot be stopped.

I have high expectations.  Can't help it.  I'm seeking a totally transformative, soul quenching experience.

And I don't expect to be disappointed.

Live up to it, Tulum.  I'm really, really counting on you.

Namaste, y'all.  See you on the flip side.

Image Credit wikimedia.org.

Thursday, January 14, 2016

First Birthday


Today is a special day.  And an especially hard day.  Harder than I anticipated, but how could I know?  It is the next of many firsts.  

First Thanksgiving, on which we spread some of his remains into Lake Houston and cried and laughed as the wind spread them back on the boys and they delighted in being dirty.  

First Christmas, when I returned to the last place I’d been before my life changed forever, to a spot where we swung from the bridge above and smiled at the simplicity of watching cousins make mud pies.  

First New Year’s Day, watching football and slurping my husband’s homemade pho, a tradition that he enjoyed with us the last few years since relocating to Houston.  

And now the first birthday, his, without him.  He would have been 67.  I hate that he didn’t make it.  

I filled my day with appointments and tasks, hoping to avoid a downpour, hoping to hide from the inevitable, hoping to keep my hopes up, my head high, and my heart light.  But I couldn’t.  There is nowhere to hide from yourself.  

As I drove the 47 miles to our first appointment of the day, my son requested some music and I agreed, knowing with the first note I’d feel my first tear and they wouldn’t stop.  And they didn’t stop until I pulled into the parking lot, took a deep slow breath, and put on a smile for my eldest son, who was facing his own obstacle and needed his mother to be strong.  

I keep thinking that eventually I will only feel stronger, better, more evolved, and experienced in the ways of the world because of losing him.  But eventually hasn’t come close to arriving and today I only feel lost and sad and cheated.  I feel like there is no possible way I can do this life without him.  I am scared and lonely and heartbroken.  

I don’t feel this way every day but I do today.  His day.  Today we recognize the day that he came into this world and forever changed it.  Just like we will recognize the day he left this world and forever changed it.   

Maybe eventually we will be able to celebrate it, to smile on it and feel okay with him not getting one year older ever again.  But today I only mark it.  I see it and feel it and acknowledge it but I don’t rejoice in it.  I don’t feel much like celebrating. 

The firsts will keep coming for many months to come and though I know having these special days tick by on the calendar of life won’t ever be easy without him, I am hopeful that after this first year of firsts it will get easier.  

It certainly can’t get any harder.

Image Credit www.poker.co.uk