29 May 2013
Hello gentle readers. First off I would like to thank the wonderful and talented DeBie Hive for inviting me to do a guest post. I am humbled and honored that she chose me to be part of this amazing opportunity of sharing. It is in large part because of her and the support she has given me that I am part of this beautiful blogging world today.
The enormity of coming up with something worthy of sharing has weighed on me since Kelly first asked me if I'd like to be part of her guest blog feature. Without sounding like a crazed stalker~ I will say that SHE sets the bar pretty high with her knowledge and amazing writing abilities. So here I go.....best effort and all......
As is usually the case with me, I have an idea of the subject about which I will write and then 27 things happen and the idea changes a hundred times and when I actually sit down to write (or type in this case) the words just flow freely.........
Today happens to be the birthday of my dear son William. It also happens to be the anniversary of the day he died. One might think that what I would choose to write would be completely about him~ his legacy, his loss and what he means to me. Although *this* post is heavily influenced by his brief but profound life~ like his short life~ the impact and this post is about far more than that.
I have been thinking a LOT lately about platitudes, latitude and attitude. When one suffers a loss or tragedy of any kind~ one expects that it will make other folks very uncomfortable. Many~ in an honest effort to be 'helpful' ~ offer age old platitudes: 'it's God's will', 'God doesn't give you more than you can handle', 'this too shall pass', 'when one door closes another opens' and so forth and so on.
Speaking from a place of having been through several unhappy but normal life events and what I consider to be more than my fair share of tragedies~~~ I can say I have heard just about every single platitude at one point or another. And mostly (if I am being honest) they don't help me. And sometimes they even piss me right the F*<K off.
Now I am not generally an ungrateful person~ and generally I give folks a fair amount of latitude when it comes to accepting their support and love for what it is..... even when I find their words not especially helpful and in some cases actually *hurtful* to me.
My true friends know this about me~ and they grant me the same latitude~ they know if I snap at them, or say something unkind in response, or simply burst into tears~ they KNOW it's me and my emotional reaction~ it's not them.
I cannot choose what other folks say. I cannot choose how *they* will respond to what I say. Often times (much to my dismay) I cannot choose what tragedies befall me. What I CAN choose is my attitude toward all of the above.
In a life filled with even the most 'normal' amount of chaos and heartache~ one could easily become a very pessimistic and nonbelieving soul. Add in a few extraordinary tragedies~ and one could almost certainly cave under the pressure ~ and be doomed to a bitter and resentful existence.
One thing I have held onto throughout many a difficult time is my belief that everything *does in fact* happen for a reason~~ even if it takes days, weeks, months or even years for me to *see* the reason and understand it's purpose.
I could name countless personal examples of how just when I needed something it appeared as if from nowhere. I could name countless personal examples of how just when I needed someONE *they* appeared as if from nowhere. I could name countless personal examples of how just when I needed financial or spiritual help *it* appeared as if from nowhere. But unless *I* chose to believe that it is some sort of divine intervention it will mean nothing more to me than simple coincidence.
I am not by nature a religious person.......however, I do consider myself to be a very spiritual person. You see I have to believe that there is something more than just this earthly physical existence. I have to believe that my mother, father, sister, nephew and son are in a better place. I have to believe that I will meet them there eventually.
And the reason I have to believe these things is this:
I spent some time in the land of bitter and resentful ~ and it almost killed me.
Today~ I TRY to always choose hope. I TRY to believe that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I may not always understand *why* I have to be here~ but I can choose my attitude about the situation. It is no coincidence that the people in my life that I need the most are here when I need them. It is no coincidence that when I need love and strength the most~ I find it. It is no coincidence that losing my son gave me the strength to fight for and save the life of my daughter.
Six years ago today when my Son died~ it was almost my undoing~ I lost my way~ I lost the faith that things would ever be better~ I lost the hope that I would be able to survive with my wits intact.
Today~ though I wonder what he would look like? would he have his father's blue eyes? would he like to play baseball like his big brother? would he be tall like his brother or tiny like his sister? what would his voice sound like? though I wonder these things and a thousand others.......though I grieve his loss still......though there is a part of me that will never be whole until I am reunited with him......though my love for him grows every day and my longing to hold him makes it hard to breathe sometimes........
I look into the eyes of his baby sister Faith~ and I cannot imagine my life without her. I look into the eyes of my grown daughters and of my only living son~ and I see William there~ I see him~ alive and well and whole.
I remember him and I celebrate what he means to me. And in honor of his life and his legacy I do my very, very best to always choose HOPE. Every. Single. Day.
Happy Birthday my dear son. Thank you for helping me to become a better mother and a better person. Thank you for restoring my Faith and my Hope. I love you.
and to Kelly~ thank you for always believing in me and encouraging me to share my story even when it hurts.
Love and Light,
~ the Ginger herself, mother of 5, learning every day,