Never underestimate the power of good morning texts, apologies, and random compliments. Because they will always matter and mean more than you can imagine.
It is all about working through those hurts and finding a way to process them while letting them hurt a bit less every day. There is no time table.
I realized this morning as I pulled in to the parking lot, that I was filled with angst. I wasn’t nervous but realized I was apprehensive. I have spent my life encouraging, speaking truth to and guiding women, so what were all these unsettling feelings I was dealing with?
Holding on to every last moment of summer, I feel that when I put on those jeans and those stupid thick winter yoga pants, I am almost defeated.
My mother had the softest hands of anyone I have ever known. When I was small, she would stroke the bridge of my nose to help settle me in for the night. And often would do the same to assist in quieting my tears.
Against my will, the salty tears assaulted my cheeks as quickly as I could wipe them away. I just needed a good cry. I needed to dispel all this hurt and just move on. I wasn’t sure I could do this. Another gulp of air and a sob caught in my throat.
When a judgmental comment makes its way to my lips and can tell the condition of my heart is failing, I reel it back in. I reel it in. All of it. Stop myself in my tracks. Those words I am ready to share do not encourage.
Now, 5 1/2 years later, I find August approaching quickly. August 4th is a day that I will always pause and honor my mom. I will always remember her, share her life and the stories I remember with my children and anyone that will listen.
My heart continues to melt more than I wish it would. When loved ones hurt deeply, when sickness invades a body, when relationships fail, when joy and sorrow abound.
The other kind soul, worried and analyzed what they had said to me, concerned that what was conveyed wouldn’t be received with the love it was intended. It wasn’t only received with love, it was treasured.
I remember meeting my husband’s grandma Rosemary for the first time. Infectious laughter and a sheepish half-mouthed grin. She would squint her eyes shut when she laughed. She was an amazing listener and genuinely cared about what people were saying. She was spry and seemed so very young, even though the beautiful lines on her face told a different story.
Emotional Anniversary I realized what an emotional anniversary was the summer I turned 12. I lived in Forest Lake, Minnesota and my sister and I would often bike the short 1.3 miles to the Tom Thumb gas station in Lino Lakes. The town of Lino was so small, it only had that one 4 corner…