The hours, days, and weeks following our discharge from the hospital and Noah’s arrival on this side of life, have been a kaleidoscope of emotions and will. Our previous daily routine pared down to the bare minimum, a merry-go-round of feed the baby, feed ourselves, change the baby, sleep (in fits and starts), feed the baby again, feed ourselves, try to sneak in a shower, sleep again, etc.
What I didn’t know was how much a heart can open in the midst of grief and fear. I didn’t know that no matter how hard I tried to anticipate these moments, nothing could prepare me for the outpouring of love we’ve received. I had no idea gratitude and grief were such close companions.
Joy is our key to resilience. It’s the thing that actually gives us enough courage to face our fear of loss and still allow ourselves to feel gratitude anyway. Without a deep commitment to the vulnerability of joy, we would not have the fortitude to survive sorrow.
The freedom I feel while waiting for the bus. I smile and take note. It reminds me of the color mustard and how I wore it for more than a year, strapped to my back, waiting and smoking and leaving and, saying hello again and again.
Today is Thanksgiving. Another one. Another year and season and time to reflect and be grateful. To be honest, I find myself a little bit antsy, reaching for the stillness as left-over…
The snow makes crunching noises beneath my boots. The air is crisp and when the wind blows, bitterly cold, burning my cheeks. There are no tracks. The houses in the neighborhood are…