Each morning before your feet hit the floor, before you grab your cell…give gratitude something(s) in your life that bring you joy. It doesn’t matter how big or small these things are.
Today I’m grateful for my children’s humble spirit, the ocean; as it calms me, and the invention of these devices that keeps us connected. All of these things get me through day to day.
I hope each and every person my post touches has an abundantly blessed day!
It’s been 34 weeks, 243 days, 5840 hours, and 350400 minutes. My brother visited the cemetery today for the first time since the service. I wasn’t able to physically make it (because he got up super early and left me) but he FaceTime me and I was able to be with him indirectly and in spirit.
This is the first month that he’s been home around this time and it was helpful to have him to lean on as well as provide him with support too. Being away from home and trying to get through this has been really hard for him.
I tried to lift my spirits by decorating because Christmas (and birthdays) were our thing. We competed to see who would have the best decorated house. Not leaving a room undecorated for the holiday. Not sure what it is about Christmas but it made us feel happy.
This month has had its ups and downs. But i’ve tried to find the positive in everything. I don’t miss you any less. If anything I miss you more. Wishing that I was preparing a Thanksgiving plate for you to critique, falling asleep on your couch as you played with the kids before falling asleep yourself. You’re missed at all times and I hope you know it.
I’m still pushing forward because I can always hear you saying live your life because you only have this one. I miss you Mom and I hope even through the snot and tears that I am making you proud. It’s not easy and I know you hate for us to cry or get the least bit emotional over you, but you were truly my best friend. And life is a little hard to navigate without you. One day it will get easier but I definitely will never get to a place where I won’t think about you and cry. The next two months will be trying – Christmas and then your Birthday but I got this right? I know I probably don’t but I’m going to try.
I made myself head into the kitchen to begin cooking. I think to myself, this year is at least better than last year. Last year I spent the day before, day of and day after Thanksgiving alone. I think I mostly laid around crying. My head hurt majority of the day. I was dog sitting for my best friend and just in a real fucked up mood. I was alone, me and my very best friend was going through one of those moments and I just wanted things to be normal.
I’m starting to think that last year was just a dry run for what was to come this year. The only difference is that at least this year I had my babies at home. I managed to get in the spirit for a little bit before all the thoughts flooded my mind and I just began to overthink and then cry. I legit just wanted to get in bed and go to sleep until the new year at least.
Although it was extremely hard at one point in the day, I made it. And hopefully next year will be a little easier. I’m trying to learn how to navigate these holidays and special events by trial and error. The only things that really got me through were the kids, my seester, my bestie, my silly brother and being able to talk to my Baby Love.
As I prepare for slumber, I hope everyone had a day filled with gratitude and love. That is really what the day is all about.
In a large room there are women with long flowing hair and short pixie cuts. Expensive weaves with nicely laid baby hair; Mongolian, Malaysian, Brazilian. Neatly parted box braids, faux locs and twists. Traditional dreads, teenie weenie afros, voluptuous curls, kinky curly styled tresses that are neat, styled, unruly or free forming. Full faces of makeup…Bobby Brown, Fenty, MAC and Bare Minerals. Nicely drawn eyebrows, firmly placed individual lashes or strips. Colored contacts. Perfectly contoured cheekbones and noses with bronzer and what appears to be sparkly fairy dust. Lips lined, filled and plump with a glossy, matte or satin finish. Rocking designer threads, some leaving absolutely nothing to the human imagination and others thrifty and well put together. Bodies made by Dr. Miami, some off shore clinic in Columbia or Mexico and then those naturally made and approved by good home cooked meals, vegetarian and vegan diets and gym routines. Manicured nails and toes, stiletto, coffin, round, and square shaped beautiful and unique nail designs. Tall, short, light, dark, plus sized, skinny, fit and unfit, freckled, flawless, young and old…they are all beautiful in their own way. Some fighting for the spotlight, an area in the front of the crowd, hoping for all the attention or admiring themselves in their camera or in the camera lens of someone else.
And then there’s an awkward girl, attempting to stay unseen in the back of the crowd of well put together women. Intuitively feeling all of their insecurities, arrogance, self-centeredness, self-love, self-compassion and self-confidence or the lack thereof. With her finger styled two toned locs, thin at the crown, with pieces of gray hair, unarched and sparse eyebrows, sad but somewhat bright eyes that sat behind big framed glasses. Bare but speckled face from many years of fighting teenage acne even as an adult. Sparse lashes and a big ass hanging bottom lip that was passed down from her Grandfather that concealed her gap teeth that were slightly permanently yellowed thanks to the consumption of a trial cancer medication side effect. No Boundaries Walmart shirt, with a pair of ripped Burlington Coat Factory jeans and some dirty soled Converses. She stands at what she believes to be average height, with a weird frame due to fluctuating weight gain and loss because of grief, depression and just utter complications of life. She watches the ladies in front of her in admiration wishing she cared as much as they did about appearances.
She doesn’t understand the women who stand before her but she respects them. She doesn’t truly care to understand them because just as she stands in the back of the crowd. She doesn’t desire to stand out. She is perfectly ok with just existing. She is me…
In all my awkwardness I truly love me. I don’t need the praise and approval of others. I love the skin I’m in. Every scar, bump and bruise has a story. Some good and some bad. Center of attention? I hate it. Spotlight? I’d rather not. Physical appearance is cool and I believe that everyone is beautiful no matter what they look like. But my pure heart is what I care about most. I care and I give. I’m naturally empathetic and sympathetic to others. And that’s to include total strangers. In this particular story, episode, or simulation of life, I just want peace and happiness…not attention. Not all the extra, not competition for material things or status. And that’s not to say, I can’t put on all those things (besides the body by Dr. Miami) when I absolutely have to. Or that I don’t have nice things. But they are not a necessity in my life.
This post was simply to give myself some grace and to pay homage to this body that my soul is currently occupying. Life is hard. Grief is just stupid and people don’t cease to amaze me. Returning back to the clouded bubble that is my life. Praying that the sun comes out tomorrow.
