a bit of mourning and a whole lotta peace

Jan 19, 2019

This pic came up in my Facebook memories today.

It was taken January 18, 2012, a little over a month before the fateful injury to my hip. One month before the years of pain, injury, seizures, and exhaustion took over my life. There is SO much joy in this pic. At the time I didn’t super love this pic because all I could see was my crooked, yellow teeth. But now? Now I see her vibrant spirit and uncontainable excitement. I see the lack of pain on her face. I see exuberance. I see her and a small part of me wishes I could go back to that girl.

I posted some of my feelings about it on Facebook and received this response from my dear friend, Robin. She has known me since 1996 when Blythe was a wee babe and we have been through many adventures and soul-filling experiences together.

That girl IS great, but that girl hasn’t yet come to know how strong she truly is. That girl was strengthened and led to things, people, tools and gifts that were preparatory for the upcoming chapter of her life. That girl is incredible and trusting; faithful and positive beyond most people’s ability.

She prepared you for who you are now. She got you through those rough days, the unexplainable pain and never ending surprises that pushed you to your threshold. She helped you become the resilient, STRONG warrior woman you are! Love her. Thank her for helping you grow and become the woman you are today. NEVER doubt your abilities and contribution to others and the world at large.

I love you dearly, friend.

Tears. Sobs. Catharsis.

Robin knew just what to say to help me reach deep down inside and shift perspectives. It’s true. I need to thank that girl and thank this girl. This woman who has grown in faith, courage, gentleness, and wisdom is a wonderful person to be. She has more wrinkles. More depth. More weight. More.

And that is good. I’m grateful for both girls. And if giving up this girl is the price I have to pay to go to somehow go back in time and not get injured, not develop seizures, not have to endure the suffering, then it’s not worth it. The lessons I’ve learned are sacred. The person I’ve become is full of her own brand of beautiful.

Thanks Rob. I love you forever and always.