mixed up

perhaps there are those of you who read this, and are not direct friends with me.  In that case, I should tell you, I have been absent for a bit because I have moved.  Six years ago, when I was pregnant with my daughter, John and I moved out of the basement of his parents' place to a rental.  It was a good place.  It was a luxury townhouse.  It was not ours.  For that entire time, I would spend evenings looking at homes for sale, trying to find us a place with a yard, a porch...something that could be ours.  Two winters ago, we were working with a friend to find a place, and discovered the Interfaith Housing Coalition...the first time I noticed him dragging his leg was during our searches.  We were in their office going over paperwork and they needed his ID.  He went to the car and I watched him through the window behind the woman.  When I asked him if he felt anything, he brushed it off and said it was the winter boots. It wasn't.

We had hoped to find a home to call our own before he died.  I'm not sure if it is good or bad that this did not come to fruition.  I put the pictures of our kids up in the stairwell today.  There is one picture of our wedding I did not hesitate to put on the wall of my room.  It's not our room.  That hurts.  I wonder if it helps a tiny, messed up bit, too?  But there are wedding pictures that I contemplated, that I did not put up...I will never leave him out of our family pictures.  An old friend with a special connection told me how his wife's mother died when she was young.  Her father took down all her pictures.  I promised him I would not do that.  I wouldn't have anyway.  But that story helped.

I love and hate that this place is my own...mine and my kids.  What never ceases to amaze me is how many lovely people step up to the plate and help!!  It doesn't matter if it is time and sweat, or listening, or ideas, or money.  If you open your heart and are honest about your pain and fear and need, for me, anyway, people are there.  Not for everything.  But for so much.  And it makes me feel so honored.  So blessed.

I am feeling such a strange combination of afraid and strong right now that it boggles my mind.  Help me, hold me, love me...that is my mantra.  I am almost ashamed to admit that.

I want to type about the things I need, want, miss, wish for, feel will never be mine...I'm not sure there is strength in admitting those things.  I still strive for strength.

My world has not only been shattered, it has been shaken, moved, redefined, rattled, mixed up and turned on its head.

But I am still here. I still refuse to give up on love and hope and healing and connection.  Each connection you make matters...it can spread light in any direction at any time.  Hold fast to those touches.  Appreciate the energy you are given, that is shared with you...it is unlikely it will be perfect, but inside its tiny, amazing self, it is everything there is from that person.  Give and accept all you can.  That is all that matters.