Childhoodtake2!

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on deny.

Go.

I've watched you do it, deny the news, deny the reality, deny the outcome.
I've watched those that love you do it too.
Sometimes the pain of the future is so hurtful that denial is protection and necessary.
And I've gone back and forth between allowing you to believe, have hope, have some faith, and deny the reality of the situation...and still holding strong in the truth.

I do a weird thing too.
To protect me.
It's not denial, it's going to the extreme of the worst case.
I call it my protective coat.
I feel myself slip into it, and I know when I have it on vs when I know something is up.
Even writing that down feels weird to say but there are times when I reach for the coat and times when my body is telling me, you don't need it, this is actually happening.
The coat though, I think the coat keeps me warm when I turn to cold situations.
And when I turn to cold thoughts and feel as though I need to harden myself.
The coat keeps a thin layer of distance between me and feeling.
I guess that too is a level of denial.

I understand denial differently these days. I understand the need to protect yourself, your family, your heart.
I get it now.
I also get acceptance and how that can be a long long journey or change in an instant. I've seen both happen.
I get the process that we all need to go through, denial is an important part.

Stop.

"The number is thought to bring prosperity and life".

How lucky I am to have you as my first.
How lucky I am that you were so gentle as a baby and how calmly you welcomed me into motherhood.
How lucky I am that I get to raise you, I get to know you, I get to know the real you.
How lucky I am that I get this front seat row to the beginning of your life.

How lucky you are to be raised in love.
How lucky you are to be raised with hope.
How lucky you are to be raised with grace and trust.

How lucky we are to have found each other in this world.
How lucky we are that you are willing to learn from mistakes.
How lucky we are that you are willing to keep talking and hearing.
How lucky we are that you have an edge and a "don't mess with me" side.

How lucky the world is to know you.
How lucky your friends are to have you.
How lucky your family is to watch you grow.
How lucky your grandparents are to have their only girl.

How lucky we all are to have memories of you.
How lucky you are that we share those memories with you.
How lucky that you were born so healthy.
How lucky that the mother who was terrified to mother and petrified to mother a girl, got you.
How lucky that the father that always wanted to father and didn't know much about little girls, got you too.

How lucky that you are a combination of those two people.
How lucky that my fear did not overcome.
How lucky that his desire did not disappoint.
How lucky.

Sweet Anna James...
Keep working and trying.
Keep believing in happily ever after.
Keep creating happily ever after for yourself.
Keep holding on to love and grace.
Remember you are a combination of your past, who you are today, and who you will someday be.
Remember that each part is a part of your story, a chapter you write each year.
How lucky we are to have you.

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on coffee.

Go.

Dear sweet coffee, you and I have had a special relationship since I can remember. We have a bond, a connection.
Dear sweet coffee, it's your warmth, it's your comfort. It's your power. And I can't help my feelings, I love you.
Dear sweet coffee, you are one of the most favorite parts of my day. There were a solid three years when you were all I looked forward to and even though that's changed, it's still one amazing relationship.
Dear sweet coffee, you are loving, you care, you get me.

We start early, you and me. We start around the island, in my office, in front of a computer.
We start in my workout clothes, in my robe, with my early morning hair.
We get through the day together.
We get made fun of a lot, you and me.

My kids say we are too much, that I need you too much.
But I don't think so.
My doctor says I need to limit us.
But I don't think so.
I feel that we are just perfect, just right.

So, I want to thank you coffee. For getting me through.
For always being there exactly when I need you.
For being my rock, my constant.
For loving me back.

Dear sweet coffee, I love you and I don't care how weird that sounds.

Stop.