These few days after Christmas have been all about getting organized in the Smith household. Cleaning and organizing have always been my go-to relief for calming the chaos I create for myself. Maybe it's COVID or maybe that I haven't seen my therapist in a while, but this December has been particularly difficult in the anxiety department with thoughts of death and illness dancing around every corner. So we've done what I do best and basically sheltered in place because living in fear seems more comfortable for some insane reason than living in faith. 

Yesterday Levi and I were in my closet going through my jewelry. I would decide if something was going to stay or go and the things I never wear were handed to my little helper in which he turned them into creations and inventions that only a imaginative little mind could come up with. I pulled open one drawer of my standing jewelry chest and found this 2009-2010 planner. I don't remember ever having this planner and as I flipped through it, it was completely void of any notes or circled dates. I have no idea if keeping this planner is a coincidence or if I kept it in this drawer because of the years on the cover. 

Of course I had to flip to the fateful day, like somehow, even after all these years, I may find an answer in there to any of my unanswerable questions. No answers, just facts. December 31, 2009 was on a Thursday. It was a full moon. The end. 

As the constriction in my chest began without warning, I began to get frustrated. Why does my body remember such pain when my life today consists of such joy and so many blessings? 

I look over at Levi as he is taping a bracelet to an old charger and poking earrings through the cord, and wonder what differences my kids would notice if I didn't project my anxieties upon them at times. It's just that in 2009 I came to know total devastation of the strongest love I had come to know in my 29 years of life. Lawson and Levi brought a next-world level of love into my life, and with it, a completely new level of fear. There would be no recovery.

Levi looks up, and sees me staring at him, "What mommy?"  he says as his sweet bluegreen eyes search my face. "Nothing, baby, I just love you." Then he takes the little planner out of my hands and says, "Can I have this?" At first, I wanted to be protective over it, like I have with so many trivial things from my old life. Instead, I snapped these pictures for my writing therapy, and let him run off with a pencil and his newest, "treasure". 

For years I've spent every NYE reminiscing about the last day Dan and I ever spent together, but it always ends the same way. He dies at the end of that day.

Today is December 30, 2021, 12 years since the last time Dan was alive for a full 24 hour day. I want to celebrate that.  I am going to switch it up a bit this year. I have no idea how we spent that Wednesday 12/30/09, but I am sure we smiled and joked and laughed as everyone should each day God allows breath in our lungs. Today is the day I will visit the cemetery. I will drink a beer and share my secrets, fears, thoughts, and laughs out loud toward the cold stone in the ground and the spirit in the air. I'll leave him with Patron seeping into the ground along with the remainder of the day's rain and hopefully my December chaos too. 

Tomorrow will be spent with my full and whole heart loving my family, making new memories, and with the help and grace of our Savior, beginning the new year with less fear. 

Love Letters

 Yesterday, I was in the gym doing the 2,000th of what felt like a million birdies and I got a little dizzy. There was no transition of thought, or seconds between immediately thinking of dying. What if my heart stopped right here, right now? What if I had a heart attack right now? Would they be able to get to the defibrillator in time? Would it even work? Or would I leave this life from a gym, just like him? Just as the thoughts come, they are gone as fast as the drip rolling off my nose. I’m onto jump squats and other thoughts…until the drive home. 

2 days prior:

It happens randomly, but I will search for an email I thought I deleted and one from Dan will pop up. Usually they are one of the inconsequential, what’s for dinner? Should I stop at the store? Do we need dog food type, but not this one. This past Saturday morning, I searched, “Classic” in my email (thinking that I deleted the email from Classic Photography with the proofs of school photos.) But somehow, this love letter popped up. I’ve gone back and forth to share some, share in its entirety, or to not share at all. 

Before you know my decision, know my train of thought. Back to the drive home...

I'd had a shit day. The workout (and my team who makes me laugh even on the hardest days) were the highlights. I HADN'T REALIZED  IT UNTIL JUST THEN! It’s that time of year. That stupid chest constricts for no reason,  check the expiration on my Zoloft-just to make sure I didn’t get a bum batch, time of year! I think back to the gym and how in a flutter of heartbeats, sweat, and seconds, I’m creating my own chaos. I am thinking about the trauma me falling out would cause the 10+ ladies working out next to me,  I think briefly about how dying in a gym might be poetic in a sick kind of way. Then, I think about the love letter email. Although I don't remember getting that email, and it wasn't one that stuck with me, I thought about how amazing it must have made my early 20-something self feel. I thought about how typing it must have only taken him second, but it was flooded with emotion. Things are so different now, I am different now, but love isn't different. In many ways, it's better because of my past.  

I began to float into thoughts about MY love letters. The ones I write in my heart every day, but don’t say/send nearly as often I as I should. 

I haven’t written a love letter to Nick in ages. A real , thought out, from the heart love letter. One that expresses my gratitude, my appreciation, my promises, my whole heart. My sister. We say, I love you, in every text, But the love letter isn’t recent enough. My Dads (plural), time is racing by and I need them to know my heart. Lawson and Levi, my love letter to them is just beginning. I want them to LIVE my love letter. It may take us all of 30 seconds, but lets make someone feel amazing by letting them know that they take up special space in our hearts. SO,

To My Nearest and Dearest,

May you always feel from me the importance of your, “peachy teas” (Bud Light, Miller Light, wine, High Noon, Seltzer, Mich Ultra, IPAs, etc. 😂) in my refrigerator, and your left behind dirt piles in my car. I cherish them, because I cherish you. Cheers to the carefree(ness) of 20-something love, and the strength and durability of the adult love we work hard for.  ❤️ Enjoy:

T, 

I hope you had fun this weekend. I cannot wait to see you tonight.  Just to hug you will feel so good.  Last night I was smoking a cigarette on the porch and was so disappointed to not turn and see you sucking on a Marb light.  While I was lying in bed I just smelled the comforter and your pillow forever. Just the smell of you makes me feel good. Then this morning while I was making lunch I opened the fridge and saw your peachy iced tea in there.  I couldn't help but smile thinking of your pretty lips taking sips. In the car I looked down and saw where you stepped in the dirt and brought it in on my newly vacuumed car mats.  I thought about how they were the most precious dirt piles ever because they had come from the bottom of your feet. 

In short, every part of my life has been touched by you.  And I love it.  I could never live without your

porch smoking or smells or iced teas or dirt piles. My life has come to one defining point.  And everything else that I do is only a peripheral non-issue surrounding my all important you. 

I love you and can't wait to see you tonight.  Have an awesome day.

Love, Dan

(Circa 2004) 

 Recently while watching, "The Chi", Jada shaved her head alone in her bathroom after inevitably losing chunks of hair due to treatment. She cried and although this was acting, it sparked a revelation and spirals of thought. 

My sister and I went with my mom when she shaved her head. She smiled the entire time. Her smile was like nothing I've seen since. Strong, graceful, brilliant, and filling the room with light. As I have mentioned in previous posts, I've never fully understood the strength (and love for that matter) of my mother, any mother.  Jada was able to cry and fall apart because she was alone at that moment. Alone with her reflection, alone with her thoughts, alone with her fears/anger, and she allowed herself to do it. I know now that my mom felt she couldn't break down, she was the epitome of strength. And I also know now that she felt the need...for us, her children. 

As my children get older, I find that I go through even more stages of grief. I think about my mom every day and from my earliest memories, I remember that connection. Now, I see the concerned look on my kids' faces when I bleed from nicking my knee in the shower, or stubbing my toe. Even if the pain is making my eyes water and my ears ring, I hug them and tell them, "Mommy is fine", "Everything is ok". Imagine that a million-fold. You aren't going to see either of your children's next birthday, but you smile and praise the Lord and glow like always, to maintain the stability even grown kids need to function. It makes me cry just writing it. 

Us moms hold onto a lot of shit for our kids and 90% of the time we are going through our own shit, silently dying inside for one reason or another, but grinning on the outside making sure their lives are as stress free as we can possibly make them. 

I am not sure if it is right or wrong, but I say cry! Break down sometimes!! I was raised in a sort of, "fix your makeup, hide your crazy, line your lips and keep them closed" kinda way. Sometimes, I agree, but there have been times that I was at my most, "human" in front of my kids and discussing it afterward made a bigger impact. Jaime and I often chuckle on the phone with other about how we, "dropped our basket" with our kids...and it's OK!! 

I wish my mom would have broken down. I wish I could have been her rock to lean on. I wish I wasn't the cause of her holding in emotion. But then again, that woman is where my strength and ability to, "press on" came from. She taught many lessons, most of which I am tying my hardest to pass along as well. Some of which, I am rewriting the script.  

To all of my friends and loved ones that are fighting a terrifying battle right now, that have won that battle, or that have had their lives changed forever because the battle ended...leaving you here to grieve, I see you. I pray for you. And even though I posses zero power, permission granted to go a little bat-shit sometimes too. 

Showing love and grace to others while you are healthy and well is a choice. Showing love and grace while suffering is a calling. Receiving the love grace is a blessing. Be somebody's blessing today...even if it means you let them yell and scream and cry. :-)