I’ll never forget March 5th, 2008. Everything before that day was Before, and now it’s After. That Wednesday morning changed everything.
It’s been 3 years since the seizure. 3 years seems like it should feel more distant than it does.
When my daughter turned 3 I was swollen with new life. Her newness, her birth seemed so long ago.
Jason’s MBA took less than 3 years. I plowed through college to finish in 3 years.
In 3 years so much can happen and the day the 3 years started feels like forever ago.
Parts of the past 3 years seem distant…my Grandpa’s funeral, the last time I saw Jason’s brother’s family, a job I shot, that time when we used to have a car…remember that?, Sam going on his mission, then coming back and getting married, the old Jason, my daughters…they used to be shorter and less articulate and limited in their scope for imagination.
So many things have changed and life seems so far from where it was 3 years ago, except, I still think about that day when God decided I needed to be bashed in the head to receive the wake up call.
The experience hovers just beneath the surface, it is the warmth, the fuel that reminds me of the lessons I learned and how I need to actively apply those lessons to this moment, and this one, and this one too.
It has replaced sorrow and pain that lay deep and dormant to my consciousness, and risen to the top, light as air, sweet and glorious.
I have tiny moments of a buzzy brain or a feeling of despair that try to alight on my body and soul. I swish them away with a breath and a prayer. You are not welcome here.
I look people in the eye and I speak the truth. I run. I smile. I feel like smiling, it just happens, as natural as breathing or seeing or smelling. It’s my 6th sense. I don’t have to think about it or try to remember it or practice it, it just happens all the time. I have been looking for the wrinkles, and they are finally starting to settle in right there. Smile lines.
I am patient. Long suffering. I feel joy. I feel anxiety swiftly, acutely and I race to know why? what? And the answer is there. The process has shortened, and my burden is made light.
I am here, present. And I need to be for my daughters. God knew that I was going to miss it. Their needs, their lives, their love was going to be there and I was going to pass it by. He hurled my body down to the ground, shook me up so that I could see…so that I would see.
My eyes are open and I see them. I hear them, I’m listening…and they speak! I’m not going to miss this. I am here. I am me. I am joy.
With gratitude I thank my Father in Heaven above for shoving me into the refiner’s fire so that I could learn, grow and be.