When I
wrote my last post in February, I was beginning again. I had written about this
blog starting back in 2010, about all the seasons of life that had brought me
here, and about wanting this space to become a place for reflection,
creativity, encouragement, and hope. I didn't know then just how much life was
about to change. The months since February have been some of the most emotional
of my life.
On March
21, we lost Scott, my first husband, my children’s father. There are some
losses that don't fit neatly into words. Even when you know that life is
fragile, even when you know that everyone eventually faces loss, there is
something different about waking up one morning and realizing that someone who
has been part of your life story for decades is no longer here.
Grief
has a way of changing the landscape despite how the world keeps moving. There
are emails to answer, dishes to wash, plans to make, birthdays to celebrate,
and ordinary Sunday afternoons that somehow still arrive. And yet, underneath
all of it, something has changed. I've spent a lot of time this year learning
what it means to carry grief while continuing to live. Some days there are
tears. Some days it has meant memories. Some days it means being grateful for
the people around me. And some days it has simply meant getting through the day
and recognizing that getting through the day was enough. I think I'm learning
that grief isn't something we necessarily finish, we learn how to make room for
it.
Work has
changed, too. I've found myself stepping into more responsibility and figuring
out what it means to trust my own voice. There have been challenging days and
plenty of moments when I've questioned myself, but there have also been moments
when I realized that I know more than I sometimes give myself credit for.
And
somewhere in the middle of all of this, I've kept coming back to creativity. Painting.
Watercolor. Journaling. Words on a page. The little projects that don't necessarily
need to become anything. It has reminded me that creativity doesn't always have
to be productive. Sometimes it can simply be a place to breathe.
I can
miss someone and still laugh. I can grieve and still be grateful. I can feel
tired and still feel hopeful. I can have days when I don't know what comes next
and still believe that there is something good ahead. My faith has become
quieter this year, but perhaps deeper too. I'm learning that sometimes faith is
simply trusting that I don't have to understand everything to keep walking, So,
here I am, a little older, a little softer in some places and stronger in
others. Carrying some things I never expected to carry and still learning how
to put down the things that no longer belong to me. I don't know exactly what
this next season will look like but, I think I'm ready to meet it.
