Well, it's Thanksgiving. It's here. It's time. And I'm freaking out. I know it isn't here, actually, I still have to go to sleep. And then it will be here. 13 years. Funny. I was 13 that Thanksgiving. It's been 13 years. Don't you love how things work like that. I'm sitting here in my bed rocking back and forth. I keep wrapping up in my quilt. Then taking it off, then wrapping back up. I keep pulling at my hair. Pulling my fingers through it. I'm a ball of nerves. There's a hole in my chest, and it burns. Part of me can't figure out why this matters so much. He isnt' going to be here. I'm not going to have to deal with him. But... there's something so potent about these memories.
It could have all been over. It could have ended there. But it didn't. Sometimes it feels like it never ended. These memories rotate through my head at random times. It's like.. watching a movie that you can't turn off. I dont' want tomorrow to be Thanksgiving. Don't get me wrong. It isn't that I'm not thankful, I just.. It's just the day. It hurts so much. But I am thankful. I'm thankful for so many things. Too many to list. I'm just trying to not be overcome with anxiety. But the anxiety is taking me over. It's enveloping me. And I'm being hit hard with memories. It's like an arsenal. An arsenal of bad memories threatening to take over my life. I'm fighting it with all I've got.
I asked Eric tonight if he would help me start making new memories tomorrow. He said he would try. That's Eric language for of course honey but I refuse to admit to being mushy or emotional. Ha. I love that man. And I love you guys. And I think I'm done rambling. I think I should sleep soon. Tomorrow will be a long day.
But God is good. And God is faithful. And xanax is fantastic.
I'm a wife. I'm a mom. I'm a photographer. I'm a lover of Jesus. My house is a mess, my kids are dirty, we eat take out more often than not. My life is loud, busy and crazy. And that's okay with me.
This is Eric, the man you've been praying for. He's a paramedic. He quilts in his spare time. No, I couldn't make that up :) He has NASH (a form of liver disease, non-alcoholic) and diabetes, but those things don't define him. He's a man of God, an insanely wonderful husband, and the best daddy in the world.. Just ask these guys..
Our daughter Ali, she's 9. She's fiercely opinionated and strong willed. She's a Daddy's girl, but the umbilical cord hasn't but cut from me, either. She's a gymnast, and proud of it. She spends more time upside down or turning flips than she does walking. She's crazy smart, and absolutely sure of it. She is my insufferable little know it all.
Our son Dylan, 7. We lovingly refer to him as Chubs. Or Chubby. Or fat boy. Ahem. He is all boy, as you can see by his crazy wild energy. He has the highest pain tolerance of any child I have ever met. He plays soccer and does gymnastics, but truly he is a gamer, a nerd. He is an avid reader and loves to climb. Not to be outdone by his sister, he's a drama king, but to him, I'm the best mommy in the world.
I'm here to use my voice. So many people can't. In a world of darkness, I just want to help God's light to shine through. I pray that my words are His, and my love is His, as well. This is my journey through the darkness. To start are the beginning of the story, click here.