Life

I keep a journal. It's not something I write in every day or even every week or even every month. Sometimes I write about little things - like what Tommy said that was so funny I never want to forget it or what we ate that I must make again or what color the sky was when I was driving home from work. Other times I write about bigger things - what's going on in the world or problems that we're working through or hopes and dreams for the future. Today I wrote about life over the last three months. Don't worry, I'm not about to turn this into a blog where I post my journal entries. But so much has happened, and is happening. A mix of little things that I want to remember and big things that I know I'll never forget. Conflicting emotions, great days, tough days. I woke up this morning and felt like something had to be said. Something had to be written to try to capture it all in one place, together, instead of all these different experiences floating around on their own. So this is what it is. This is what I said, what I wrote about everything our family of three (soon to be four!) has been through since Thanksgiving. It's a lot about all of us, and a little about just me. Hopefully it helps to explain the otherwise sparse posting on this fun-loving blog about the adventures of our best boy. Back to the regularly scheduled three-year-old-and-growing posts in the near future. I don't know how many people are out there reading, but thanks for pushing pause with me for just a moment. This is important.


02/16/11 So many things have gone by. Experiences in life that come and go in the blink of an eye. And yet, during each day of joy, fear, excitement, sadness, it seems as if time is passing so very slowly. But now, three months later, it's hard to believe that so much has happened in so little time. Two Thanksgiving weekends with an abundance of love and laughing and food. News of spreading and stronger medications and surgery. Two pink lines, anxiety, hope. A week of visiting in a sterile environment. Christmas spent with families. Laughing, eating, toasting, smiling, sledding, opening, holding on for one more day. More hours, days, weeks spent by a hospital bed. Alternating fear and hope, fear and hope, fear and hope. Watching the end come slowly but sooner than anyone was prepared for. A three-year-old growing, changing, laughing, watching, understanding, enjoying, accepting. Pictures of first a wiggling peanut, then a human form with fingers, toes, eyes, nose, mouth, beating heart. Relief and joy and hope. A day of remembering, grieving, celebrating. One bullet too many, fear and relief and sadness from afar as loved ones lost a loved one.

How is it possible to have so many emotions at once? So many emotions that are opposite, and yet complimentary to one another at the same time. Yes, there is sadness for the past and present. But there is also joy for the present and future. Yes, there is anger for life lost too soon. But there is also happiness at two little lives that have yet to begin. And over everything, there is sunrise, clouds, light, rain, and sunset. Trees swaying in the wind, buds forming on trees. There is Hope. There is the promise of unconditional love. There is a world spinning through the universe.

And then there is me, an insignificant speck of dust on the surface, seemingly lost in a sea of humanity and other, bigger problems - hunger, war, disaster. But a small Voice somehow breaks through the noise of everyday, telling me that even I am loved and accepted and treasured as if I was the only one. Even when I cannot speak, there is understanding. There is enough for all, for every one.

Life is unpredictable and wonderful and terrible and amazing. Even in these moments of conflicting emotions, the world keeps spinning, bringing a new day, a new light, a new promise, a new opportunity to soak things in. To be present and open to whatever life brings. I will never understand the chaos, but I am starting to accept it for what it is.

Today is a new day.