Spending my morning with a knot in my stomach of impending doom, while trying to send my husband words of encouragement over texts to help him make it through this day. I don't share my doom because, you must fake it until you make, I always say.
I haven't made it yet. Not even close. What is making it anyway? Some finish line you or others have put on you to show that you are recovered, are talented, or educated enough? I am not really sure, and I don't really even care. Maybe these finish lines aren't worth crossing, or maybe I will always be two feet from that line tapping my toe at it, teasingly. Whatever the case, I'm quite sure I am not there.
In fact, I know I am not there, not even close to recovered. I have a feeling this "recovery" will be long and drawn out. And that's ok. I have made terms with that. If you know a little about my life you might know that road hasn't been an easy one. It's been one giant round-about with insurmountable lanes. Round and round it goes... "Hey kids...Big Ben".
However, sometimes it seems to be the best life one can live. I mean really, my life has so many blessings. I have been given many gifts. I have been given talents and rewards innately and practiced. I have been able to travel to different parts of the country, and neighboring lives. I have married the one person who gets me completely, and have already been blessed with three BEAUTIFUL children. My family and friends love and support me, and I have a home. How can this not be it! I have done so much in my (almost) 32 short years, I feel almost ashamed to not feel like I've made it. I spend everyday looking around for the things I am grateful for, and try to share them with the world. My heart is so full of joy, yet...
There is this hole. That impending doom. I was trying to not share it with anyone, because I do fake it.
That intuition, I use it as one of my many talents and gifts, and I have been so blessed to help others with their holes. Trying to spend my time filling this world with happiness, kindness, and love with my gifts. It's all I really want. Knowing that I do this for others, is really making it. Truly.
But today, and some days. There is that pit, of bad news. It's like hanging from a cliff and not know whether you will drop and fall or that helping hand is reaching out towards you. I share my lil intuitions with those who "get me". Just as a way to declare my abilities. Unfortunately, most the time, they come true. The good and the bad, the little snippets I get from whatever source in my mind or my gut sometimes rocks me to my core. I knew today revolved around the mail. I declared it to one of my best friends, and exclaimed to her "maybe its the hope we needed, since there would be no bereavement paycheck" but I don't quite think so. I fear its sadness, and I can't quite move.
I toiled with what I could provide my kids day with, and tried hard to win them tickets to go see a Broadway play. (Which my Father so graciously is sending us too). I thought about everything else I could, so that this "doom" wouldn't over take my mindful sense of gratitude I live with each day.
and then... The mail came. Just like it does everyday about 11:42am, because our mail-person is always on time. I grabbed the mail frantically looking for "good news" and a blank white envelope starred back at me. Just said "Renee Lawrence" and it was from Topeka. If you are from Kansas you know, not much good comes from Topeka... I mean, if we are talking about the mail, or the city.
I hesitantly opened the envelope, and out falls a sturdy piece of paper, that looks mighty important. Indeed it was... Indeed.
Nothing seems more doom, than receiving the "certificate of death" for your daughter. Age: "1 hour(s) and 33 minutes" it says. She lived and died in the same town, same hospital, same spot, with me and her father. She will never have been married. Her "Marital Status" tells me that. I will never get to watch her walk in some beautiful dress to marry the love of her life, like I married her daddy. I will never send her off to school for the first day of kindergarten, and I will never get to hold her again.
That pit in my stomach this morning, it was right. Sometimes, I hate being right.
"Winter, Spring, Summer, Or Fall... All you have to do is call. And, I will be there.
You've got a friend"