Chivalry ain’t Dead! (But my smile has been)

Today someone actually held open the automatic door for me at the safeway. By this I mean that he walked up just before me and triggered the door then stood in the “zone” and held his hand out for me to walk before him. I laughed and said – “That’s a first, I’ve never had someone hold open a door for me without even touching it!” He introduced himself and commented that I had a great smile. It was then that I realized that a smile goes a long way, yet mine has been away for a long time. I had been in a particularly happy mood this morning, for no particular reason and for the first time in quite a while. I also realized it has probably been a long time since I have not been in stress mode and therefore, most likely not smiling, in fact probably grimacing. Unfortunately it took a trauma to put it in perspective for me that all the little things that cause anxiety on a daily basis really just don’t add up to a hill of beans. After returning from the funeral of my 21 month old niece I have been in a bit of a funk to say the least. At these times I shut down and out and push away friends when I need them most. It is a paradox that I am not proud of. But in my introspection I realized that painful events make everything else pale in comparison. They make you count your blessings – of which I have many. It makes you slow down and let the logistics of the tedious days flow by like the creek after a heavy rainfall while you just watch it instead of getting swept with the current or trying to paddle upstream in vain. It was just a few weeks ago and slowly I have been reminding myself to let the little things drift away like eddies downstream. I began to ask myself, What happened to the care-free girl who was always looking for the next adventure; who inspired others to live to the fullest and love themselves; who was most often in a good mood for no particular reason? Perhaps I need to immerse myself and let the waves wash over me to rinse these layers gathered by sleep deprivation; overwhelming responsibility of raising a child on my own; betrayal of friends and family; and a myriad of other stressors and hurts. Or perhaps not to rinse completely, but smooth them into a texture of both character and healing with patches of the old me peeking up from within. I want to laugh again just for the sake of laughing; to explore the world again with an open heart; to love again just for the sake of loving; and mostly to find and love myself again. I want my smile back, not just for a visit but for good. When I smile, doors will open all over the place and my heart will follow!

Heartbreak

My very first post on this blog was dedicated to my deep appreciation for my child and how she has graced my life with so much joy. It is that joy and love that a parent feels so deeply which can hardly be captured in words. And if that depth of feeling cannot be captured, words can hardly begin to explain the pain of losing a child. I have heard the analogy that “having a child is like having your heart running around outside your body”. We are so vulnerable as parents. From the moment we give birth there is an awesome and somewhat overwhelming feeling of giving life to this being. Each new stage of development gives way to its own stage of vigilance for a parent – from the basics of keeping them warm and fed; then they roll over and we must make sure they don’t roll off the bed; then they crawl and we plug the outets and put fragiles above their reach. But soon they are up on their feet and independently exploring the world and we serve a delicate balance of letting them find their way and providing love and guidance. It is then when your heart is literally running circles around your world and it is impossible to keep up with them. It is then when we are most vulnerable. A tragedy can take your little heart in a moment. I can only imagine how that feels: like you can hardly breathe – a dizzying sensation that struggles to make sense of how such a travesty could happen to an innocent whose whole life was before her. The pit in your chest where your heart used to be weighs far more than the emptiness it is. It is a travesty and no amount of analyzing it could ever make it better, rather would only make it worse. So we keep moving, with broken hearts and heavy minds, we remember all that was good in her short little life and tuck that into our pockets to rub like a souvenir stone while we keep moving and try to heal.