The journey I’ve been on for the last two years is not one I’d wish on anyone. I’d like to say I’m a better person for having gone through it, but I’m not. What I am is thankful for having survived it.
We lost our daughter in 2018. As that year came to an end, I was a shell of myself. From the outside it may not have been as obvious because I was pretty good at going through the motions. Each day I’d put one foot in front of the other in an effort to check a few things off my to-do list before I allowed myself to pull the covers back over my head for another sleepless night. But inside, I remember feeling very little beyond profound heartbreak. The horrors of Stephanie’s death were winning; the agony of losing her erasing memories of our happier times. I hadn’t just lost her; I lost an entire lifetime. Continue reading “It’s Easier Than You Think to Die Before You’re Dead”
They say there are five stages of grief. I suppose there’s science behind it and the framework holds true for many people, but I’ve only known one stage since we first learned four months ago that Stephanie’s life would be cut short… heartbreak. It’s what I immediately felt on that cold Sunday morning in late January when we learned she had a rare liver disease, Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis. 
When I woke up on January 26, 2018 it never occurred to me that within a few hours I would discover my daughter was sick, and after thirty years of amazingly good health, she would never be well again.
Hitting the pause button at the beginning of October may have been the best decision I’ve made since starting Chapter 3. At the time, a string of destructive hurricanes followed by the horrific Las Vegas massacre had dimmed my creativity. Feeling pretty down from it all, I not only stopped blogging, I minimized the amount time I spent watching the news and keeping up with the outside world. I greatly reduced my involvement on social media. I walked more; I read more. We still had visitors and plenty of social interaction so I didn’t withdraw completely. But I certainly took a big step back.
From the beginning, I was adamant that fishing was not my thing. Despite repeated attempts by my six-year-old grandson to entice me to join in his new passion, I was steadfast in my refusal to even pick up a rod. I’m sure Caleb thought it odd, since I’d always been such a willing sidekick to every adventure he cooked up; all he had to do was mention it, and I was game. But not this time; not fishing. I encouraged him to seek involvement from others, as I was sitting this one out. 
I’m not about to deny the place in my heart reserved for football and pumpkin spice lattes, but they don’t seem to be enough to make Autumn feel significant. So simply put, I’m striving to give this glorious season a more befitting identity within my life. The downgrade seemed to have started during my years as a small business owner when it became a respite between the chaotic pace of summer entertaining and the exhausting demands of the holiday retail season. Typically, I dragged myself into September desperate to catch my breath and reclaim some semblance of a normal life if only for a few weeks. Not exactly lofty goals. 
Happy Serendipity Day! Well, actually it’s tomorrow, August 18, but I’m posting early in case you want to wrap your head around it. The purpose of this whimsical holiday is quite simple; it encourages us to block out the distressing rhetoric swirling all around, and at least for one day, embrace the positive happenings right in front of us and celebrate the gifts of everyday life that we so often miss! Goodness knows we can all use a break from the non-stop negativity; so, count me in! 
We fell in love with our adorable little fur ball the moment we met him last October. That’s the thing about puppies, they’re so damn cute they hook you before you remember the upheaval a baby of any species causes to your life. But by the time we drove the twelve hours from Erie, PA to Knoxville with the little guy, it was coming back to me. Still, I wasn’t too worried because my husband, Tim, had always taken the lead with our dogs. I did kids, he did dogs. That was the deal with the first pup, and I never saw a reason to change it. 
This trip was years in the making and like most weekend jaunts, just as we picked up the pulse of the city it was over. But then I never have enough time in New York City. Fortunately for my daughter, Stephanie, it was everything she had dreamed it would be and since this getaway had one specific purpose – to celebrate her thirtieth birthday – having it live up to her expectations was all that mattered.