Childhoodtake2!

Memorial Day.
For some, it's the unofficial start of summer.
And our little town is bursting at the seams with excitement and people everywhere.
It's warm, it's inviting, it's lovely to see.

Memorial Day also bears weight in its lightness because it is a day to remember those that have fallen.

Memorial Day also reminds me of the incredible milestones that seem to always fall around this time of year for me.
So, because I am me, this weekend carries a lot of memories for your mamma.

She says nothing of what she thinks
She just goes stumbling through her memories...

Memorial Day weekend, 2000.
When I was just out of college, my first memorial day was spent with friends in NJ.
I was starting work that week and although excited about the start of my career, I also felt this unbelievable realization that these 4 incredible college years were really over.
No more all of us living on top of each other.
No more incredible walks in Geneseo.
No more parties that were too fun to explain.
No more of our bar scene.
No more Geneseo.
I was walking away from a relationship and that carried some heartache.
I was walking away from a family that I built around me and that carried some heartache.
I remember driving away from that very little town, thanking it for my time there, thanking it for the comfort and love it created and leaving a piece and part of me right there.

She says nothing of what she thinks
She just goes stumbling through her memories...
And it breaks her heart

Memorial Day weekend 2005.
We left Rochester and we started our life in Saratoga.
It was me going back to the career I started with and although I did not know it at the time, the start of an agency building me up and raising me.
I again was driving away from an area that meant so much to me, but in some way was holding me down.
I met my husband in this town.
I adopted Mia in this town.
I had framily right there, reconnected in a glorious and loving way.
I once again thanked a city for all that it gave me, all that it afforded me, all that it meant to me.
And down the road I drove.

"Take what you can from your dreams
Make them as real as anything
Oh, it'll take the work out of the courage"

Memorial Day weekend 2012.
Our last weekend before Coley was born.
It was my last weekend being pregnant.
It was a weekend to really cherish.
We bought 3-year-old Anna a little pool to wade in and she was in heaven.
We bought our first fancy camera because we wanted to capture amazing pictures of our new baby and we tried it out.
Each picture we took is stamped into my mind...
pictures of her smile
pictures of Mia loving the warm and attention
pictures of time with our extended family
pictures of me and my little guy, our last pictures of just us two

Memorial Day weekend 2016.
I was sitting at a party and turned to dad with the realization that I needed to build a new business.
I had this ah-ha moment of how to do it and do it a little faster than my original thought.
I stopped overthinking and I started making calls to put the wheels in motion.
Capital CFO was born and left my head and was down on paper.
I knew it meant the end of my time with the agency, I knew where I was headed, and for the first time, I wasn't sad but just ready.

For me, I do not often think of the start of something new as an actual start. I lean more heavily into the loss and what I am leaving behind to get to this place of new.
But for some reason, this weekend has forced about big changes in my life, big losses, big decisions.
And that means I am living a big life.
No longer wishing it different.

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 heal.

Go.

It started in my early 20s.
The process.
The talking it out, the figuring it out, the realization that I could not just keep going.
I needed to find a better way and I needed to heal.

So, I talked.
I told a stranger my history.
I talked about the relationship I was in.
I talked about the love I was carrying and the fear of being in love.
I talked about how I knew that love wasn't reciporcated and how I knew I would eventually have to walk away.

I talked about her, I talked about him.
I talked about when I was small and I talked about me now.
I talked about my decisions, I talked about my past.
I talked about how and why and how much my friends mean to me.
I talked about my idea of family, what I wanted.
I talked about my reasons for leaving my realization I may never be allowed or welcomed back.
I was angry enough to be fine with that and just start over.

I cried.
I grew.
I was challenged.
I was asked a lot of questions.
And evenutally, many years later, many talks later, many realizations later...
I healed.

Stop.

Years ago, we sat around our dining room table with some friends and each of us took three minutes to take the Love Language quiz. It's so cliche now, everywhere, I know. But the reason these things explode is because when something is so correct and hits just the spot, it makes you really stop to think.

Is it hard to guess mine? Words. I love words. I love love love words.
It's so obvious, but I guess that's the point of these quizzes, our personalities are screaming out, but we can't explain why and these little insights into ourselves help us to feel validated, seen and understood. They help us to understand and accept.

So, tell me.
Tell me.
Tell me it's better when I'm here.
Tell me you missed me.
Tell me I'm a good mom.
Tell me you love me and tell me why.
Tell me how lucky we are.
Tell me you're happy.
Tell me I make you happy.
Tell me "thank you".
Tell me you appreciated a gesture, a loving moment.
Tell me this life matters.
Tell me I make you think and laugh and be.
Tell me we're partners.
Tell me you understand me.
Tell me you hear me.
Tell me I'm a hard worker.
Tell me you appreciate that.
Tell me we need each other and it only works when we're in it together.
Tell me you love our snuggles.
Tell me you feel safe around me.
Tell me you love our walks.
Tell me you love talking things out with me.
Tell me you love our time together.
Tell me you're happy with this life, our life.
Tell me you're happy with me.
Tell me you are excited about how much I work on...my health, my work, my healing, and our family.
Hell, tell me how amazed you are by it all!
Tell me how you can see I'm trying and working on softening the hard edges.
Tell me you can't believe how hard I love and how lucky we all are that I do.
Tell me you love to make me laugh because I love it when you do.
Tell me you love the silly side of me, because you made me silly.
Tell me how much you are enjoying your childhood, because it became my second chance at one.
Tell me how happy you are I brought us Pearl because our family desperately needed her.
Tell me.

"If not to invest in people?"

Sometimes, when you connect with an old friend and get over all of the major details, you really get into the grime of life. You finally get to the ins and outs, the ups and downs, and you really get to the grit of how you are doing, what has actually been happening, and how you really are dealing with it.

You talk about the moments that took your breath away.
You talk about the moments that crushed your soul.
You make jokes that make you laugh.
You remember who you were, who they are.
You remember why you fell in love in the first place.

It's no secret that we have been months of deep loss.
And again, for the woman that feels too deeply for her own good, it hits differently.
I feel their losses too.
I feel lost.

And how I am feeling seems irrational most of the time.
The bursts of tears and fits.
The moments of anger and deep deep sadness.
The times of thinking back, the memories that flood.

"So what's wrong with that? Why wouldn't you want to feel that way?
Why else are we here if not to invest in people?"

It was beautiful. The words I didn't even realize I was waiting to hear. Once again I needed a reminder that it is okay to be me. That the best and worst parts of me make me fully me.
That the best thing about me and my biggest flaw is that I am someone who is all in when it comes to love.
And so, I do not let go easily.
I replay all of our memories over and over.
I hold on.

And even if it is time to let go, time to move on. Even if I cannot do anything about the losses we are all facing, why wouldn't I want to feel them? Love has a big impact and you should feel it. If not, it never mattered but love does matter.

"Why else are we here if not to invest in people?"

I am deeply attracted to and am in need of being around my balance. Someone that does it all very differently.
However, talking to someone that feels as much as I do, is exactly what I needed. Someone that understands how painful loss is. How you need to pine over your loss. How you need to revisit every memory and see if there could have been a different ending. And throughout the conversation, I got to hear words that mattered...

...no matter the outcome and the healing, he didn't do right by you.
...none of the differences matter as long as you were loving to each other.
...none of that matters either as long as it wasn't threatening and it sounds like it was.
...I wish he knew how lucky he was to have you all and I hope he realizes it soon.
...of course this is going to be hard, you were invested and you should have been because you were in love.

As I tried to rush through my stories to get to the important questions I had to ask an old friend, he instead, brought me back to parts of the beginning and hit on important points. Instead, he wanted to hear the full story and even then, I didn't want to bore him I tried to wrap it all up quickly.
But he wasn't bored. He wanted to know because real friends want the full story. The ones that know your core, know what you are made of, aren't afraid to point out mistakes but also aren't ever going to turn their back.

As I faced a month of being blue, not myself, feeling heavy and hard to find joy...sweet dear friend, thank you for reminding me of what matters most in this world.

"Why else are we here if not to invest in people?"

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 vision.

Go.

Do you have a vision of what your life will be?
Do you know what it wants to be like?
Do you see it in your minds eye, can you feel it?
I don't think I did until I met him, and then it all made sense.
It all felt warm.

I pictured love and laughter.
I pictured it warm.
I pictured it full.
Full with people, full with hugs, full with memories.

On our walk today you talked about your life.
You talked about the number of children you see.
You talked about what the wedding day will look like.
You talked about what friends you will have.
You talked about your pets, you talked about love.
You want your home filled with love too.

We built a home to celebrate that love.
We built a place to gather.
We built my vision, our vision.

Do you have a vision of what your life will be like?
I do now.
I did and I still do.
I saw you, I felt it, and here it is.
The life I had wanted.

Stop.

Dear Coach...
Dear Bella...
Dear Monkey...
Dear Pearl Girl...
Thank you.

Thank you for realizing I did want to mother.
Thank you for realizing I needed to mother you.
Thank you for talking me into this.
Thank you for my gentle start to mothering.

Thank you for being such great eaters.
Thank you for being such great sleepers.
Thank you for being the best kids I know.
Thank you for loving our puppies.
Thank you for understanding the family dynamics and how complicated they can get.

Thank you for filling in the quiet.
Thank you for filling in the missing pieces.
Thank you for being the perfect little puppy who fixed our broken.
Thank you for how excited you are to see us, each and every time, like it's the first time.

Thank you for your smiles.
Thank you for your warm hugs.
Thank you for late-night snuggles.
Thank you for feeling so hard.
Thank you for loving with all you have.

Thank you all for being lovers of love.
Thank you all for loving me.
Thank you for my second chance at childhood.

Thank you for still believing in good.
Thank you for still believing in little.
Thank you for still believing in love and our little family.

Thank you for this amazing front-row seat at your life.
Thank you for allowing me to mother.

With all I have and all I am, thank you for this life.

Love, your mom

It's been a tough few weeks in our home.
Lots of emotions arising, lots of tantrums...in all directions.
Lots of me wanting to climb into bed and sleep it all away.
Lots of yelling and short tempers.
Lots of taking things too seriously.
Lots of everyone not understanding dynamics and lots of not feeling the energy in the room and acting appropriately.
Lots of us just taking things too personally.
Lots of breakdowns.
Lots of examples of being unkind.

It's our crazy season.
You guys are all over.
Dad is in full swing of coaching.
I have a lot on my plate, and my nerves are very thin.
And, as much as there is to do, I'm just so damn tired all of the time.

Of course, it will all be okay.
Of course, we will all be okay.
Because somehow, through even all of this, we try and find moments of being okay.
And we try to laugh through some of the pain.
And we try to find moments of being us.

Because when heavy weeks set in, it is most important to turn to your go-tos.
Dinner out.
Runs alone.
Baths.
Warm coffee.
Naps.
Puppy snuggles.
Walks.
A little sunshine.

And then there are other joys.
Like when Cole smiles.
Or when Anna laughs a real belly laugh.
Or when Pearl gets zoomies and runs around all crazy and sneezing.
Or when dad is little boy excited at winning his first varsity game.
Or when mom remembers life isn't that serious, and things are never ever that bad, and she too remembers to hug and smile.

This year is going to have some pretty serious and heavy parts to it.
This year is going to have some amazing adventures too.
It's going to be filled with what life is always filled with...moments of warmth, moments of fear, moments of heartache, moments of love.

We're going to celebrate a wedding this year. We're going to watch two wonderful people become family in the most amazing way.
We're going to see our framily at the Cape and hug and squeeze them because it has been too long.
We're going to make time for each other outside...play ball, sit by the fire, read more.
We're also going to go through some tough times, because life brings with it tough, heavy times.

I'm going to make it as comforting as I can and then, I'm going to go and find my comfort and joy.