Regroup, Show up, and Pray

 June 29 2020:

I had to bring immense purpose to my life. To my daily schedule. Leave nothing to chance. Wake up. Yoga. Care for kids. Matcha. music. All to live. In, around, over, under, and within peace. Collectively. Leaving no time for destruction. Not suppressing sadness or anger. But channeling hope. Channeling my dreams. Driving towards release. To find me. To free my children of grown up fears. Emotions that create monsters in closets.  Emotions that lead to imagination running into the darkest woods. Not meant for innocence. Not ok for those in pain. Those whose innocence has since fled are still entitled to humanity’s grace. I beg you give me grace.

It started with the Red Sea parting. I drove forward. With raging waters on both sides of me. So daunting, it felt like I was squeezing through a pinhole. A tiny speck of Earth that was destined for me. Destined for my serenity. Allowing myself to trek on towards peace. 

And to my surprise. The rain came down. But the roof of the car and the steering wheel my hands were duct taped to were stronger. Thick Rain. Only in view was the seconds ahead. And that was ok. It didn’t feel ok. But I was. And it was all I could handle. Bright blue skies would have felt like a mistake. Like a wrong turn on the highway and to an exit that wasn’t my fate. Not the view I could take. Seconds ahead. How poetic it was. To be terrified of the future and only physically able to see a moment ahead. 

2 quiet spirts in the back seat. With trust ballooning their hearts. Pitter patter on their window and a fistful if snacks as my copilot in this vehicle that took faith as fuel. Calm was flowing from them and allowed me to absorb their immense love. Unconditional. And knowing my heart was pure. Pure with my love for them. Pure for a bright future for my two little souls. Together we drove. As 3 diamonds in the making. Water pressing the car roof. The pressure was strong. But pressure made for us to shine.

Unable to focus on my rearview Mirror. Each mile further from the man I professed my love to for 10 years. I felt the pressure from the rain. The detriment to my decision. The powerful stance I took. To protect my children from his behavior. To give him a chance to fight for his freedom from his vices. FIND YOURSELF again and be the person that makes your family proud. We are not running away from you. 

We are removing ourselves from the person the liquor makes him. Release. Breathe. Repeat. Love. We do this in the name of love. So I scream. In my head I scream. It’s a release. From that which i cannot fix. But have to let himself fix. Because this is broken. 

January 5th 2025:

A few weeks after becoming a single mom I wrote the excerpt above. I felt tired when I reread it now 5 years later. Tired because I knew that girl so well. My DNA still does. I wrote about driving through a West Virgina rainstorm and how the outside weather mirrored my inside turmoil. I had just left my husband hours before. Driving from Pennsylvania to California. Flash forward a year and I become a widow. A whole new definition of single mom was laid before me. Then for 3 years after that I fumbled around and have barely found solid ground.

It has felt like a huge part of life is saying "Ok." regrouping, and then moving forward. Regrouping. A word I feel very familiar with. My relationship with this word is one I am grateful for because of my determination to live a fruitful life, and yet a word I’m very tired of sitting with. Sifting through the ‘should be!’ And then ‘never should have’s.’ Staring at the celling fan thinking though it alllllll. All the ‘almost was' and ‘I can't believe that’s.' The body aching loneliness needing to be slashed down to move forward. Being my own cheerleader is the hardest thing I do every day. Come on, you know it is for you too. This blog post is in solidarity. I see you trying. I see me trying too. I will continue to regroup, show up, and pray.