Instead, I cried a lot. And curled up in the fetal position. And drank too much red wine. And tossed and turned as I tried to sleep too much. And cried some more. And pushed my loved ones away. And didn't run. And watched too much TV to try and turn my brain off.
So today is Day Fifty. Hard to believe that it has been fifty days since Daddy died and my world tilted. Day Fifty is kinda my Day One, because it is the first day that I honestly don't find it hard to breathe. I never said I was a fast learner, buttercups. Slow and steady, slow and steady...
Someone who I count as a friend, even though we have never officially met, said something that was perfectly timed for today. She said that after her dad died, how she wrote and lived and loved all changed. I love this.
I feel like the past year, or two years, have been a hot burning fire. The last fifty days have been the flash burn, the worst of it. And yet, when I think of fire, sometimes beautiful things are forged from fire. Strong and sleek, beauty can come after the burn.
So maybe this is part of it. Maybe how I will live and love and write will change, be stronger and more beautiful after the pain. One of my favorite bloggers EVER, Glennon Melton, says that life is brutiful.
Brutal and beautiful, all in a big messy mess.
I agree. And on that note, I am going to finish putting my NASA space station control center together so that I can work. I am working from home from now on, which means that I will be a happy camper in my nest, and in my jammies and fuzzy slippers. (Just kidding, if you are reading this, Mamacita. I will be dressing for the office every day, down to my matching pantyhose and tasteful heels. Working from home won't change my office attire, ahem.) After I put the space station control center together, I am going to go for a run/jog/slog/gasping army crawl. And then I am going to intentionally hug and love on my monkeys, and whomever else crosses my path.
|How could you not love these monkeys?!|
Peace and love in this big messy mess. XOXO