anxiety

The onslaught of emotions this morning has left me tired, scattered and oddly focused. Oddly because it's where it needs to be but in the middle of the work day, it's not where it's "supposed" to be, yet it is because the focus is important.

Join a call late, rush out after, dash to my child's school to participate in a rescue mission that's becoming too frequent. Anxiety doesn't care about work hours, it cares about school bells and crowded hallways. But I care about the kid frozen in anxiety fueled fear, thankful that the right people are supportive and understanding when I need it most.

Return and check the emails to see what was missed, start another attempt at finding counseling for my child. Snack my way through a lunch of 5 different emotions. 

The sun is shining and it's what fuels me. Thankful that even if the days have been short, the winter has been mild and spring is coming. I take my last snack outside rather than my desk and sit in the sun, no socks, no bra. And that's important because I always wear one and today, I didn't; and ran to school without it. Anxiety doesn't care about breast support.

But the sun. I sit here, close my eyes and feel the breeze. I try to tune out the thoughts along with the sounds of barking dogs and construction, and focus on the birds and the warmth of the sun on my eyelids while the breeze makes my toes cold. I pray that my child learns how to ground themselves like this to help slow the swirl of emotion. 

I take the picture because I want to share not just the shirt with its creator and musicians it supports (because that's what I do), but because sharing that moment, is important. It's real, it's raw, it's the balance to all the good in my life. And sharing both, the good, the not so good, finding a way to better is real, and it's also what I do. I also love the sun, so a picture in a rough moment can also remind me of joy later.

Writing about it, is what I do. Tears streamed down my face, knowing that I do need to share this because someone needs to know that happy people struggle too, even when their life seems mostly together.  

Tears because I've been holding them in, worrying about and caring for my kid(s) and needed to allow myself to feel. 

In this short time, the sun has shifted. I have no clue if I've missed a meeting, but I think I have. It feels colder and the breeze has dried the tears. I shiver.

It's time to go back inside and face whatever comes next. But I'm grabbing another snack on the way. I'll tackle emotional eating tomorrow. 

Year Six

Six is for stability. Pause. Balance and reflection. A crossroads. 

I doubt it's coincidence that this is where I find myself on the sixth anniversary of Ghon's death. Where I still feel a range of emotion the week leading up to today. Remembering calling out sick so we can hike. Surgery day! But first, let's take a selfie! Never would have imagined that'd be our last picture together. 

Interviewing for the job he never knew I would accept; a government position after years of trying.

A last photo shoot of his favorite muse; me. 

Buying 6 wedding dresses for an unplanned photo shoot. I claimed 3 for trash the dress shoots, because he wouldn't let me trash mine. Shortly after, our final meal as a family of 4. 

Six wedding dress, 3 to claim and now it's six years, I'm forty-six, he was forty-six when he died and there's just the three of us. 

I cry a little less but the lump in my throat is just the same. Until I write about my feelings, and I sit here with tears streaming, snot running, and you see, grief -  it's hard to swallow. I've grown used to daily life without a partner. The kids, well, they barely remember what it's like to have a dad. But on the anniversary of this week, I always pause. I reflect. I strive for balance. 

Year six put me in the crossroad. An invitation to travel came months ago, and I turned it down to be here with the kids. I couldn't think to leave them home on anniversary and Father's Day weekend. We had plans to support local musicians and friends at a show to boot. The three of us, together. Then they ditched me. Nah, mom, we don't want to go. (Pre-teen years is an entirely different post.) They too, are in a crossroad. I encourage attendance in youth grief programs, and they still enjoy them, despite the grumbles I get before hand. They are becoming pros at grief therapy and life without Dad. Year six doesn't hit them as hard. They have moved forward in life without Dad.

Year six not hitting them so hard makes it easier AND harder on me. I question if I've done enough for them. Do I talk about Dad enough? Am I missing something in their grief journey? Do I smother them or give them too much freedom? While we all know Ghon could be a complete ass at times, I think about him daily and often miss him. Yet I too have moved forward.

We will be together in the morning. The kids will spend the afternoon and evening doing the things that bring them joy; as I will be doing the things that bring me joy, with Ghon on my mind all day, reliving every last hour of his life. Reliving that week, that day, it's what I do, and will likely do every year. While it feels really weird not spending the entire day with them, this is where we are now - this is our crossroad.

Come Sunday, Father's Day, the day I once had to tell my kids your Dad is not coming home, yes Dad died, we will spend together. We will eat Father's Day dessert so we can celebrate what once was, and the extra role I have to pretend to be. 

I shouldn't have to count the years, but I do. Year six, you still bring tears. Yet when I pause and reflect, I'm proud of the kids and myself for how far we've come.  I can't say what my life would look like if Ghon didn't die so unexpectedly six years ago. But I can say, without hesitation, that it would not look like this. Not better. Not worse. Just not like this. I have built a life without him, yet he's always with me, and always will be.

If you've made it this far, and you've known me (or Ghon) long enough, I ask the same as I do each year. Raise a bourbon or beer, and give the big man a toast. Not just to remember Ghon, but to honor your life and to living each day to your best. Love hard. Be grateful for what you have each day, for you never know when any part could be lost. And even then; you'll have something to look forward to from the crossroads.

Wedding cake

"Mom, why do you keep calling it wedding cake? Is it multiple layers like a wedding cake?"

"It will always be wedding cake Jonathan, even when it's not."

I love my local cupcake dealer Carter, aka Sugar Diva, but it's been 5 years since I've had wedding cake, and it was time. 

Wedding cake is more than just the incredible flavor. Wedding cake, a cake by Karen Rodkey, is a cake of memories.

I went to one bridal show in preparation for my 1999 wedding. It was there, in Westminster Maryland that I found Karen. Wedding cake. Mine was chocolate, red velvet, and a top tier of marble. 

My mom loved wedding cake too. From 2000 til 2003, my sister and I bought her wedding cake for her birthday. She died in 2004, before her next birthday. 

The only requirement I had for my 2008 baby shower with Jonathan, was wedding cake. If there was to be cake, it was to be Karen's cake. And so it was.

Move forward 8 years, Eric and Caryn are planning their wedding. Hey, I told them. I got a lady for your cake. Use her and I'll pay for your cake. Caryn tried to break it to me gently... we already picked someone. But then she added, she's in Littlestown, PA and her name is Karen.

How excited was I to tell them that their wedding cake was going to be covered by me?

When I say I want wedding cake; it's not just the taste. It's the memories. The smell of cake the day after my vows because Ghon decided to shove it in and up. It's the blue onsie decorated in top to welcome Jonathan. And of course, another wedding. Little did we know that Eric would have that cake in 1999 and again at his own in 2017.

Today, I drove to Pennsylvania to get wedding cake. 

Livin la vida COVID

Fear. Fear is making them buy toilet paper. Fear of death. Fear of captivity. You can't control your fate.  You control what you can, and that becomes toilet paper for those that can't handle it. Society often cares too much about what we have rather than who we have. We don't talk about the things that scare us. I'm not afraid of dying, but I am afraid for my kids if I do. People joking about being locked up with  their significant others, when the man I would love to be locked up with is 103 miles away. 

I wrote that March 23, 2020.

It's now November 23, 2020, and I'm 7 days post COVID-19 and 12 days with symptoms. I'm in isolation with my kids and the man I love is still 103 miles away. Being over what seems to be the worst of my time with COVID, the kids aren't as scared, and they have it too.  

You probably want to know how it started. Here's the order symptoms appeared for me:

Sniffly congestion: I always get congested when the seasons change and the temperature changes dramatically back and forth... I didn't think too much of it.

Exhaustion: But I was tired too. It was probably because I had just been away. 

Cough: Ummm, yea, that's not a good sign.

Nightmares: Enough said.

Fever: This, was when I got really nervous. What if I have it? Every temperature taken with 2 thermometers.

Congestion worsens.

Decreased appetite: Did I even eat breakfast? Wait, I'm not grazing...

Smell...gone: I didn't realize it at first. Wondered why I couldn't smell any difference in my new chili powders. But when I showered the next day and couldn't smell my soap, or the other 2 I sniffed real hard to test... I knew. Doesn't really matter to use a matching scented lotion. 

GI issues: I'll spare details, and thankfully they weren't terrible but lingering.

Shortness of breath: If I climb 2 flights of stairs, I feel slightly out of breath. If I climb one, and talk to kids while doing it, I'm out of breath. If I talk too much, too fast (and if you really know me, you know this is my way of life), I get winded.

Body aches: COVID or because I'm in bed too much, or both? 

I had a telemed appointment day 3-4 of symptoms, after the first fever. It was a Saturday morning and the testing site said I couldn't come in until Monday. Sunday night, Genevieve woke up screaming and crying, with a fever, worried about a covid test and diagnosis, and then puked. If my own symptoms didn't tell me I had it, this did.

I tested on Monday morning. It wasn't as bad as I had anticipated, but it wasn't pleasant. I rolled down my window, verified my identity, pulled down my mask and did my job, which was to not move. Tears streamed down my face. Like most moms, I grabbed a napkin out of the console, wiped my tears then blew my nose and drove home.

That night, I had an email from NextMD, but I thought it was my bill from Saturday and kept checking my online account with the hospital testing. I read the message on NextMD Tuesday morning. There it was, a positive diagnosis.  Next step, a telemed appointment with the pediatrician, who talked to both kids, canceling a variety of appointments I had for the following week, and telling 2 parents on my street, who my kids had played near on Sunday. That was hard, but the right thing to do. I opted, with approval from the pediatrician, to not put the kids through testing. I was positive, Genevieve had the symptoms, and Jonathan was just starting to. He, my chicken tender/pizza/taco won't eat a vegetable for anything eating kid, has had the mildest case of the three of us. 10-day stay post diagnosis for me gets me out of isolation on Thanksgiving. Because Jonathan wasn't showing too much yet, he got a 14-day stay. We are in through the weekend. 

Do I know where we got it from? Nope. Had we just returned from a trip to Great Wolf Lodge? Yes, but aside from the pool 2-hours a day, we wore our masks or did work/school from our room. We also stopped at a truck stop. I'd shopped the days prior. I went to a flea market. I took the kids to gymnastics and ninja warrior. We got a pedicure two days before our trip.  We could have picked it up from anyone or anywhere. 

If you want to tell me this is just a flu, please don't. I consider myself very lucky to be home still. To be working still, even if I take a few more trips to the kitchen for hot water (aka tea) or cold water. Jonathan suffers most from tiredness, a headache, and focus and his teachers were gracious to give him a little extra time for assignments. Genevieve has been able to keep up with school as well, missed an assignment but got caught up. This jacks not only with my body but my mind. The flu doesn't do that.  

Like many of you, I was actually looking forward to Thanksgiving. I was a little concerned...we were going to be in PA with many of Boo's relatives...and I wasn't sure it was a great idea from a COVID perspective, but emotionally, I was so excited.  Now I'll be cooking a turkey breast and a few sides for kids who will take a couple bites, eat some bread and call it done until dessert. Those same relatives have now decided, with cases rising, to not host a family meal (and were unaware of my diagnosis). We will all be missing out. I'll likely be depressed a bit that day. Despite that, I will be grateful that everyone will be staying safe, for time with my kids, a roof over our head, food for them to complain about, for having a supportive supervisor/friend, flexible teachers, a few friends checking on us regularly that have been aware, for the fact that we are getting better, and knowing that at some point in the future, I will have another opportunity to share a meal with all those family members. Despite this diagnosis, I am blessed. Even with it - because now I will have some immunity for some unknown amount of time - I may be able to help someone else or not have to worry as much about putting others at risk.

I must give a shout-out to my friend Bill, who shared so much of his experience after his diagnosis in the early summer, for doing that and talking to me. I felt somewhat more prepared because I knew what he went through.  It's because of him and things that I'd read online, that I'd already had an oximeter ordered. It came 4 days post diagnosis. Pro-tip:  if you get one, put your finger in, then turn it on. My first read was at 52 O2, because I turned it on first. Also, prone position, best for breathing with fluid in your lungs or other breathing difficulties, is on your stomach. 

       

We are surviving and counting down the days of isolation. With a neighborly drop off of milk and cheerios, and food delivery services when I'm just too tired to cook, we are getting through. I had just picked up 2 new TV, so each kid has their own sofa and screen. I've finished 2 books and a series on Netflix. We've watched some TV together (Baby Yoda Show!), played Among Us, and watched the birds. I even got some fresh air, from my back porch, this weekend.

We wore our masks. We washed our hands and kept our distance; yet here we are. Do I think you should stop wearing your mask - no. Do I think you should go visit your family and friends and live without a care - also no. Do I think this is no worse than the seasonal flu - once again, no. While our symptoms are diminishing and we will be OK, this is very different. This will mess with our heads for a while. I can't smell anything and have no clue when I might regain that sense. The next time someone asks you what you are grateful for, remember that. Try cooking dinner with no sense of smell. I taste texture and properties like sweet, salty and heat. I spray my house down with Lysol and have no clue how strong it is. I'm congested; but it's not like a cold or other infection. I can breathe, not out of one nostril at a time, but both. When have you ever felt congested, but able to breathe? It's the most bizarre sensation. I'm tired, and I'm even more tired of being tired. The first few nights I had horrible dreams and barely slept. The next 4 nights, I couldn't sleep through the night. I now sleep 8-9 hours a night and could easily nap midday if I let myself.

We traveled a bit; but we were safe about it. But were we as safe as back in March? In April? No. I learned how to sew and gave away (some people gave donations to a local organization in return) over 150 masks. You think I wasn't wearing one? Only in the great outdoors. Or that one time... Be vigilant friends. Be safe. I don't want anyone to live in fear, and yes, I know not everyone gets it "bad," but do you really want to be that case that does? Antibodies or not - I'm still wearing my mask once I re-enter gen-pop and will be more careful. Take it seriously, even if you think it's just the flu. Do you go make a habit of hanging around lots of people during flu season? Not wash your hands? Visit immune compromised family and friends because the flu isn't a big deal? I didn't think so. 

I kept quiet about this for a while obviously. A few friends and very few family members knew. Yet again, if you know me, I don't just share the good stuff that happens in my life, I'm here to share the dumpster fire moments too. I wanted to be a teacher when I was younger - consider this my teaching moment - a personal anecdote on COVID life and still managing to find something positive in it. Like many of you, I've had some massive boredom spells since the spring. Trips cancelled and plans torn apart. But I had my Bonus Kid with me for half the time (until school started) and that was a good thing on many levels. I learned how to sew. I started making more time to read. I had frank conversations with my kids and baked banana bread. I built a garden for our ground hog, and supported as many local business as possible and kept Amazon in business. We have delivery vans in Winchester now thanks to me! And perhaps most important, (and it must be because it's a hard one to learn and I keep getting this lesson over and over) to be flexible; to go with the flow because I can't control everything. Plans crashed and new ones took their place, and I loved every minute. Months two and eleven of 2020 were a little challenging for me, but it's the middle I'll remember best. 

In the end, the kids and I will be OK, because we will have survived, together, and I used Instacart to buy toilet paper. 

Answers

I've been rightfully accused of being an over-thinker. I myself will admit, I am an over-thinker. Sometimes, I just need to overthink myself in a circle, out loud or by text with someone to realize, yea, I have nothing to worry about.


Living more in the moment, being present, mindful - and less overthinking; all similar concepts that I want to embrace more completely this year - the year of 43.


This afternoon, after two brief conversations with friends, I felt the need for grounding or what some call earthing. I'd been told to do it before or at least to visualize doing it. In this moment, it was mid-50s in January. The temps are dropping to the 30s tomorrow and snow is coming. But today, the sun was peeking from behind a cloud, so off I went. Out the front door, into the front yard, took off my sandals, and walked around the cold, wet yard. Of course, being me, I had to pick up sticks to use in the fireplace while I did it. But I also took notice of the sensations. The feeling of the wet grass, stepping on fallen walnuts, tromping on vole tunnels, and hearing the sound of the creek, slightly more noisy because of the earlier rain. I made a bit of a lap, not really a circle, just going oddly, where I felt I needed to go, taking time to pause when I wanted. I knew it was time to stop, when after all the cold I felt, I reached a small spot that was warm.  I went inside, dumped the sticks, and changed my shoes.


It's been a while since I made this walk, and today, it was time. It wasn't out of avoidance that I hadn't taken the walk, I just hadn't felt compelled. But today, oh, today, I was called.


I've had some visitors to the house in the last few weeks who have felt Ghon's presence. His energy. Seen him here. And he may have even been with one friend outside the house. I've occasionally wondered why so many other people have felt him, but I don't. But then I wondered, maybe he was just so much a part of me, half my internal thoughts are him.


Back to that calling. I'd been reading and discussing more about calling on spirits and guides for questions and guidance in life. Today, after walking the yard barefoot, seemed to be the day. After I dumped the sticks, I went into my room to get my socks - and found a feather. Sure it was from my comforter, but it doesn't typically lose feathers, nor do they end up in my bathroom. I acknowledged the sign, knowing it was definitely time to hike the hill.


Boots on, cell phone on silent, up the hill I went. Take a left at the lower road, find the chair and pause. I greet Ghon; this is the spot the majority of his ashes lay; and cross through the woods to his tree stand. I climb, take a few pictures, then get cozy.

As I start to relax, breathing deeply, trying to clear my mind, I catch the slightest movement to my left. A teeny tiny spider crawls by. Then, I see a second. I laugh, and acknowledge them too. I know why they are here.


Eyes closed, I try to remember some of what I read, how to call out my guides and protect myself at the same time. I say some words and pause. I came with a question in mind. I ask it - and wrap some loose details around it - and wait. Keeping my mind as quiet as possible, I try to identify changes in the way I feel or new sounds around me. And the answer comes.


The slightest pressure in my legs. A shift to brighter colors behind my eyes. The sound of a bird singing; that as I hear it, reminds me of mornings, a symbol of beginnings; and the melody - a sweet simple song. The bird only sings a few notes; and I know this is my answer. A morning song at 4 in the afternoon. I acknowledge it; the singing stops and tears form in my eyes. I let them roll gently down my cheeks. These are not tears of sorrow; they are tears of hope, happiness, and promise. I sat in the tree stand and smiled, wearing simple tears of joy.


I thanked the universe, my angels and guides, and Ghon for my answer. For setting the path. I know it was not set purely by my own actions. I can hear the weather changing in the distance. I climb down, give thanks once more, and set off down the hill back to the house. Thinking, but not over-thinking, about that moment and what answers I was given. I'm reminded of words I spoke months ago; more validation that this is was where I was supposed to be today. This is what I was supposed to do. And when I ask questions and am quiet enough to listen, I will get answers.


But it didn't stop there. I walked into the house, take off the boots, back to my room to change shoes, the sun hides, and the rain starts. It wasn't a hard rain - it sounded - soft, gentle, cleansing.


I dart out to my car, it's time to pick up the kids. I start the car, my phone connects to the Bluetooth, and the last song I played, at the very loud volume I had it turned up to, gives me one more message.

Rescue me!

I give half a laugh - yes, that would be what I would hear right now. I pull out of my driveway, and see the sun, back from behind the clouds, chasing me. The sun is filling my car with light and the rain stopped. I smile again and pause. I have to, at this moment, message my friend to acknowledge their role in this moment; it can't wait. Then I carry on.


The song changes twice. I'm driving, singing along like I always do. The sun is behind me, grey clouds in front and I think I see part of a rainbow. The road bends, I keep singing, "...the love of my life..." and I am in such shock, incredible awe, that I pull over, and take a picture. Twice.




This - is what I saw as I sang "love of my life"

 

A quick lesson the symbolism of rainbows:

• ...intuitively tells us to hold onto hope, to believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that sacred blessings open to us when we are following our hearts desire.
• spiritual meaning attached to it in the form of an inner awakening caused by the shining through of light embedded in positive attributes, such as truth and wisdom.
• In Norse mythology, a rainbow once served as a bridge between the mortal and immortal.
• double rainbow is a symbol of transformation and is a sign of good fortune in eastern cultures. The first arc represents the material world, and the second arc signifies the spiritual realm.

Is it any wonder now, that I had a wall of rainbow wallpaper as a kid? That I have a rainbow tattoo? That in that particular moment, knowing my question, the answers I was giving, the song and words I was singing - that I saw a momentary double rainbow, with intense coloring and the ray of light behind it? No, these are not coincidences. These are answers.


Answers to my question. That I chose to ask. And that I chose to be still and quiet enough to receive the answers to. Year 43, I'm ready. You are going to be amazing.

Reflection of Year Forty-Two

Turning 40 wasn't a big deal for me. I had a harder time turning 30 than I did 40. There had been enough stress through 39, that I didn't really care, what was one more year? Forty continued right where 39 finished. A stressful January and February,  barely surviving March and April, May was unbelievably trying, and then; then there was June. June ripped the last piece of my identity away and slapped on a new label - widow. The first six months of forty broke me. The last six months were a blur.

Year 41, was full of apprehension. Pushing boundaries. Figuring out what life and happiness meant to me. Questioning everything that was wrong, questioning everything that was right, but trusting that it all had a purpose. Learning from mistakes, relationships, from everything I could.

And then came year 42. I don't make 'resolutions' but I had a few goals for this one. As 2018 comes to a close and my birthday draws near, it's natural, for me at least, to reflect on the past year.

Forty-two, you've been amazing.

Even if I still don't know the question.

I have long expressed my love of music, especially live music. My main goal for this year was too attend a live music event every month this year. A goal that was easily accomplished, and in some months, I was an over achiever. I took in music that I loved, music that I didn't know very well. Local bands, cover bands and mainstream musicians new and old. Rock, pop, rap, alternative, country, jazz, and instrumental. Shows in 5 different states, new venues, outside on a street, at a bar, amphitheaters, and indoor arenas. I went alone, with family, friends, and people that I barely knew. Free shows and pricey ones. Two scheduled meet and greets and photo ops with 3 other artists.  I've spent more money than I'd care to count on tickets, downloads, and merch. And I don't care. My heart is full, incredible memories made, my ears are happy, I'm supporting artists, and the kids are fully appreciating music. The #2018yearofmusic has been amazing.

January:	Walk the Moon
February:	X Ambassadors
March:	Nappy Roots, Betty Who
April:	AJR, MAX
May:	Raised on Analog
June:	Wayne Newton; The Neighbourhood; Joywave, Misterwives, Walk the Moon, 30 Seconds to Mars
July:	Judd Hoos; B-52s; Culture Club; Kelly Bell Band; Panic! at the Disco; Keysha and Macklamore
August:	Galactic; Preservation Hall Jazz Band; Trombone Shorty
September:	Elton John; Morris Day and the Time
October:	Jimmie Allen; Twenty-one Pilots
November:	Soul Expressions
December:	Lindsey Stirling
And countless other local bands over the year!

This year started with a weekend long birthday celebration. Concert Friday, Drag Show and bar hopping with girlfriends Saturday, and roller skating with friends and the kids on Sunday. I started - and finished a graduate certificate program, taking 2 classes in each of three semesters this year.

I took a long weekend mom-cation in Las Vegas, by myself. I walked the strip, attended a gospel brunch, saw Wayne Newton, countless musicians, ziplined Freemont Street, and soaked up lots of sun.

The kids and I took an eleven day vacation out west, where we visited 11 national parks and five states. We toured a prison, visited with family, hiked in the Tetons and Yellowstone, we watched fireworks, attended a concert, took a river float, a horseback ride, toured a cave, learned some history, and left part of Ghon in South Dakota.


We were able to not only attend two weddings this year, but I was able to officiate a dear friend's union.

We spent a weekend away with friends in Natural Bridge, VA this fall. It was a much needed weekend escape. We applied for and received our passports for future adventures.

I continued going to the gym, and started running again. I completed several 5Ks this fall, rejoining a friend for one and even getting the kids involved in a couple.

So many memories made this year. Concerts, trips, outings with family, friends and co-workers. Multiple items checked off my bucket list. I continue to receive monthly massages, get "chair therapy" every six weeks (that would be color and girl talk with my amazing stylist), started a new holistic therapy, and in the ultimate self care - hired a cleaning service for my house. It's been an amazing year. I'm grateful for the opportunities I've had and people I've met, especially conversations with strangers on my trips, and the new friends I've made. It's been a year to live my life; to make it my best life.

This hasn't been a good year for everyone I know, and sometimes I feel bad knowing how good my year has been when they are struggling. Death, illness, heartaches, they don't stop happening. Throughout this year, I've tried to help and support my friends and acquaintances the best I can. To be a ray of light but not a blinding inconsiderate jerk. I try to practice what I preach - that feelings happen, it's how we respond that matters. I have bad days, sometimes they last 2-3 days. But I am grateful for what I have and give thanks for it, and somehow, the universe works things out.

I've continued to force myself to experience new things. Like the time I went to the movies and then a bar in town by myself - and cried during half the movie and tried talking myself out of going to the bar to listen to music. But I did it. Taking those new first steps - the big plunge - is hard. But they prepare me for future steps. Like a few months later, also heading to a bar, alone, still positively freaked out, but not crying or trying to talk myself out of doing it. And I did it again. OK, maybe not entirely alone, as I knew I'd be seeing at least one person I knew each time, but still. These are things I would not have done at 40 or 41. Growth is amazing, and so are friends.

Forty-two has also been a year with less focus on loss and more on growth and opportunity.  I don't have a problem removing negativity from my life. I try to surround myself with positivity and those that support me. I look for the value in new relationships and opportunities, and less as a way to fill an indescribable void. I joke that I'm an amazing mom because I take my kids to breweries to hang out with friends and bars to see concerts and friends. But these things - they bring value to my life. I can spend time with my kids and friends. I can enjoy music with my kids and support friends and local businesses. Doing these things, out of the box, not normally in my character things, has provided new friendships that right now, I cherish. And while perhaps still not totally my character, it has a place in my life. I'm living my best life now, not what was my best life or what may be my best life. Doing things a little differently is what makes me, me.

Forty-two has been a time to give.  To give my time, love, and support to others. To give myself a break. To give more focus on the kids. A time to give back to the universe when I've been given so much. For the first time in a long time, I'm feeling fuller, as are my jeans. Not quite complete, but fuller. My heart is happier and hurts a whole lot less.


2019; year 43... I'm coming for you. I'm working on new goals. I'm choosing where best to help and serve others. Time is a limited resource, and I want to invest wisely. There will be more music. More running. More time with friends, more time with loved ones, more adventure. More checks on the bucket list and more things to take their place.


Forty-three take notice - I will not settle for anything less than I want and deserve. Now, to continue to refine what that looks like.


Come. Be part of the adventure with me. Raise me up, and I will raise you higher. That is a promise.