Don’t Speak

“How are you?”

It’s a question you likely get asked multiple times a day. From the cashier at the grocery store to the barista who takes your coffee order to a well meaning friend checking in. What do you say? The truth or something else?

Obviously we don’t normally answer the cashier or the barista honestly because let’s face it – they’re just being polite. What about your friends? Or your mom or your co worker? That’s a little trickier. For me I often feel like answering honestly is a burden I’m placing on someone I care about – and what do I expect them to do or say after I lay this burden on them? What can they say?

Since beginning my journey with a chronic illness there’s been a transition in how I relay information. The first several weeks I shared it all because I thought maybe this is all temporary and I was in crisis mode. As time went on and I came closer to my diagnosis and my symptoms persisted and evolved I stopped sharing as much. No one wants to hear that you feel shitty every single day and I get that.

What I’ve realized through all of this is that the world isn’t going to stop for me while I deal with this. Everyone I know and everyone you know is going through something – whether it’s spoken or unspoken – and I’m sure the “I’m fine” answers we get when we ask how they are are about as honest as the ones we give them.

Every single person we know is enduring something. Maybe the thing that they are enduring seems less serious in comparison to what you or I live with but to that person it’s heavy and it’s painful.

Am I saying that I don’t ever share how I really am? Of course not. Last night I took a walk with my husband and I let it all out and it felt good. I felt lighter. He always knows just what to say and how to make me smile when I don’t want to. Sometimes I’ll tell a friend when I’m having a particularly bad day. Yesterday I texted a friend and I told her about how bad my day had been the day before and that something she shared on Facebook had made me feel hopeful. She didn’t tell me everything would be okay but she gave me hope that there would be better days ahead. I love her for that. I love the people that keep asking me how I am even when my answers are not always honest – they ask me knowing the truth may be a burden but they ask anyway and I’ll keep asking them too.

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Girl on Fire

One of my granddaughter’s favorite songs is, Girl on Fire by Alicia Keys. At 5 years old she sings every word of that song with so much feeling and so much heart that you can truly see, “the flame that’s in her eyes.” She has that spark. She is excited about everything in a way that is so beautiful to witness.

Last year before I started my journey with POTS I was thinking a lot about how we lose our spark as we get older – I recognized that mine was fizzling. The joy and excitement for the future aren’t there in the same way that they are for my granddaughter. For me it seems as I have gotten older my spark hit a peak and slowly began to fizzle.

When my kids were all younger and still at home there was still a spark – kids have a way of making life magical. Seeing experiences through their eyes and watching them blossom into the people they were going to be was exciting and beautiful. As they got older I began to feel excitement about the next chapter and what I could accomplish. What tricks and talents did I have hiding up my sleeve? I couldn’t wait to find out! I started taking college classes and trying to figure out what path to take. I took a few different paths and ended up on journeys that lead me places I had never pictured myself being. At times I felt great excitement about the future – but life has a way of breaking us down and stealing the spark, the excitement – the magic.

Last fall I was thinking about all of this so I talked to a girlfriend about it and she feels it too. We had no answers but we commiserated which always feels good. Girlfriends are good for the soul. After our conversation I practically had this blog post written in my mind but never found the time to write it down. Now on this new journey that has changed my whole life – I have certainly began to look at things in a new way. This blog post would have been very different had I written it last fall when it was on my mind originally.

Right now my days are pretty quiet and my life is rather simple. There’s not much excitement for me at the moment but I am content. I’m still in a place where I am happy to be able to do simple things that I used to see as mundane. Yesterday I pulled weeds for 20 minutes. In my prePOTS life it would have stressed me greatly to leave all of the weeds that remained – but 20 minutes was what I could do. I told myself that if I could do 20 minutes several times a week I would eventually get them all…maybe?

Sometimes I find myself in a “woe is me” state of mind. Wishing for some excitement or a path that leads to a new adventure – a magical place where I will find my spark. I don’t let myself stay in that place for very long because I have so many reasons to be present and thankful. I have so much love in my life.

Today is a good day for me and as I’m writing this I’m thinking about another song about finding your spark, Firework by Katy Perry and sometimes it’s just the pop song we all need…

“Do you know that there’s still a chance for you?
‘Cause there’s a spark in you. You just gotta ignite the light
And let it shine
Just own the night
Like the Fourth of July. ‘Cause baby you’re a firework”

You know what Katy? Maybe I am a firework. I know I used to be. Maybe I can be again.

One Year Later

One year ago I shared my first blog post. It was all about seasonal depression with a little bit of midlife crisis sprinkled on top…fun stuff. The whole experience of starting a blog was incredibly therapeutic. I rediscovered my love of writing and it saw me through some difficult times. It helped me to reflect on where I was in my life and to see the good even when it seemed so hard to find.

One year later I find myself reflecting on how much my life has changed in one short year. There has been no seasonal depression for me this year. I’ve been a bit distracted dealing with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome, POTS. Although I’m not officially diagnosed until I take a ride on a tilt table later this month, the cardiologist said he had enough evidence to diagnose me. One year ago I did not see this coming.

Perhaps I haven’t had my usual winter blues because I’ve been so focused on getting a diagnosis. So many doctors and so very many tests, it has been like a full time job. I spent the first few weeks crying – a lot. I was grieving for what my life was before my symptoms abruptly started- the one that included debilitating seasonal depression. Once I moved past the grieving period into acceptance I began to focus on making the most of every day, whatever that looks like on any given day.

Every sunrise with my daughter, my dogs and a cup of decaf feels like a gift. A lunch out with my husband to celebrate our anniversary, what a gift. Time spent talking with my daughters, holding my grandson and coloring with my granddaughter, it’s all a gift. Every single day feels like a gift – even the ones that aren’t so great. When you spend weeks feeling dizzy and unable to do much of anything it gives you a new appreciation for the little things – which we all know really are the big things.

I’ve started venturing out for short walks and on a recent walk I put my earbuds in and hit shuffle on my music library and the first song was, A Little Bit Stronger by Sara Evans. Of course the song is about a breakup – but when I heard it this time it meant something else,

“Even on my weakest days
I get a little bit stronger”

The tears were flowing during that walk because I felt that so deeply. So much has happened in one year and so much has changed. I have changed, my life has changed. I can’t even imagine what will happen in the next year. Right now I am taking my life one beautiful day at a time and every day I hope that I do get a little bit stronger.

A Heart Like Mine

Today is Valentine’s Day – hearts, chocolate, roses, proclamations of love and all of that. It has been a hard day for me. Last week I had several “good days” in a row but when I went to bed on Sunday I knew I was probably going to be facing a bad day or two, I could feel it. I pushed myself a bit on Sunday. I walked 2 miles on the treadmill, my longest walk in months. Towards the end of the walk I felt a little dizzy and that was that. It lingered into today.

Good days mean that I get up in the morning and I can walk to the kitchen without heart palpitations. I can make myself breakfast without getting short of breath or chest pain. I don’t have to hold onto the walls when I shower. I can do some light housework, do a grocery pickup, maybe take a walk and make dinner for my family. That is a good day,

Monday was not a good day. I sat up in the morning and put my feet on the floor. I stood up and before I made it to the door I felt my heart racing. My heart rate went from 62 to 140 before I made it to the kitchen. That’s how bad days start. I learned pretty quickly that pushing through on bad days makes it worse. Sometimes I still do, but more often than not I listen to my body because if I don’t I will have a setback. So yesterday I did only what I absolutely had to do. Every time I got up I was short of breath. The stairs were the worst. I was in bed by 6:30, ready for the day to just be over.

Today wasn’t as bad. The worst part of a day following a really bad day is the fatigue. I went to physical therapy in the morning and it was a challenge but so good for me. Later that day I was able to sit at the table and make some Valentine’s goodies with my daughter and we both enjoyed that. I tried to make the day feel special and festive but I found myself thinking about what I wished I were doing. I was REALLY wishing I could celebrate Valentine’s Day with chocolate and a glass of really good wine, can’t have either right now. I was wishing I didn’t feel so fatigued. I wished I didn’t feel so much brain fog. I wished I could do so many things that today felt impossible. I have to admit that I feel jealous at times when I see people doing “normal” things. I hate that feeling. I don’t even know how to describe how it feels to realize that one day I could do all of those things and the next day I couldn’t. I think even the most well meaning people in my life have a difficult time understanding what I’m going through, as do many doctors unfortunately.

I decided to go outside this afternoon because it was so beautiful out – springlike and I needed to rid myself of those negative feelings. I sat in a chair and put my feet up and let the sun hit my face. I closed my eyes and listened to the birds and my wind chimes and it was so peaceful. It wasn’t a bad way to spend Valentine’s Day and I decided to be thankful for that. I managed to make a pretty nice dinner for my family then sat outside with my husband for a little while and that was nice too. Today was different but it was good. Everything is different. My good days are a far cry from what I considered a good day to be before but so are my bad days. Perspective.

It’s almost 8pm and I’m still awake, I’m not in a rush for the day to end. I hope and pray that means that tomorrow will be a good day. Either way I will get up and put my feet on the floor and face the day, good or bad.

A Change in Plans

The blog post I had planned on writing after Christmas goes something like this…

In early November I saw a video of myself dancing with my granddaughter outside. She was having the time of her life. Me on the other hand – I looked tired, kind of bloated and I had obviously put on some pounds. I had been ignoring the scale for quite a while but after seeing that video I decided to face the ugly truth. My assessment was correct, I had in fact gained more than a few pounds.

At that moment I decided to make some changes. I decided to begin a journey towards a healthier me, lots of exercise and healthy foods. I made a goal for myself to lose 10 pounds before the New Year and guess what….I actually lost about 13 pounds but alas that is not the blog post I’m going to write.

The blog post I’m about to write is a lot harder to write and the subject matter is a lot scarier, so here goes. I am definitely going to cry through this…

December was quite the month. We had a new grandson on 11/28 and our worlds were all wrapped up in that joy along with the anticipation of my most favorite time of year….CHRISTMAS!

We were on the home stretch to the big day and I was ready. On Thursday, 12/22 I spent the day preparing my home for Santa’s arrival. I cleaned and baked cookies and prepped spare rooms for guests. My daughter and I were playing the Christmas music playlist I had been carefully curating all season. It was a good, productive, happy day. Around 3 o’clock all of that changed quickly. I began to get very dizzy, seemingly out of nowhere.

I decided maybe I hadn’t eaten enough so I tried to eat but it didn’t really help. I tried to push through, I drank some fluids and tried to ignore what I was feeling. I sat down to watch a Christmas movie with my daughter and my husband but I knew something just wasn’t right. I felt tingly and my head ached. My legs felt heavy. Pretty quickly we decided to go to the ER. They admitted me suspecting a stroke or a complex migraine. They performed a battery of tests including a ct scan and an MRI of my brain. Everything was normal except my sodium was a little low. They gave me a lot of fluids and told me I was super healthy, just a little dehydrated which probably triggered a migraine. I was discharged and so happy that Christmas was back on!

I went home and tried to do a little Christmas prep but also did a lot of resting and hydrating. I actually felt okay until the next morning when the dizziness returned. I did my best to push through on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day and enjoyed it as much as I could. I had to lay down a lot. I couldn’t cook, I couldn’t really do anything. It was a hard, anxiety inducing feeling. On Christmas afternoon I decided to go to bed and nap. I woke up to a high heart rate warning on my watch and I was drenched in sweat. I had a fever and my heart rate was very high.

I took some fever reducer and tried to rest again but felt too dizzy so we went back to the hospital. This time they tested me for flu/Covid/rsv and gave me a chest X-ray, all normal. All labs were good except sodium was just a little low, again. They told me this was probably a virus and to follow up with my doctor. So back home I went.

I slept heavily that night and spent the next day on the couch watching a Harry Potter marathon with my daughter. Laying down I felt okay but every time I got up my heart rate would skyrocket, sometimes into the 140’s. It made me feel dizzy and shaky and my legs felt so heavy. In the shower I felt like I may pass out. Whatever was going on was debilitating.

I had to wait 3 long days for my doctor’s office to reopen after Christmas and fortunately they were able to squeeze me in. He ordered lots of labs and a follow up after the New Year. So I’m still waiting to get a diagnosis. Of course I have my suspicions. In the meantime I’ve scheduled a cardiologist and a neurologist appointment which will require even more waiting and uncertainty. So much waiting.

I’ve been trying to be strong and positive and be there for my family but I feel helpless because I can’t be there for them in the way I’m used to, at least for now. I can’t give my daughter with a newborn a much needed break as I had planned. I can’t take care of things around the house the way I usually do. I can’t walk my dogs or take my daughter hiking. I couldn’t take a long walk on this beautiful New Year’s Day. I have felt as if I’m grieving for my life before this began 10 days ago. Right now I can’t dance with my granddaughter the way I did in that video. I promise you that if and when I do get to do that again I will not care how I look. I will have the time of my life.

The Road That Leads You Home

My youngest daughter and I recently took a trip to Eastern Kentucky, where I grew up. We had planned to visit last month but had to cancel at the last minute. At the time I was crushed – but in the end it was a blessing in disguise. When we finally made the trip it was at such a beautiful time of year, in the fall with the foliage at or near peak. It was absolutely breathtaking. We visited many of the places where I had spent time growing up and they were even more beautiful in my eyes now. I’m not sure I ever truly appreciated the beauty of this place when I woke up to it everyday.

During our visit we decided to take a drive to the tiny little place I called home for many years. It was amazing how I remembered the roads and what would be around the bend of each curve. Things were different but the same somehow. Everything was smaller than in my memories. It’s funny how our memories play tricks on us. Much to my surprise my daughter enjoyed traveling back in time with me. She felt my emotion as I shared stories with her and showed her where I went to school and church and where my grandparents had lived. I showed her the hills I climbed, the creek I played in. I told her how we would pick wild blackberries and spend our days outside exploring and getting into mischief. All of that was true but it wasn’t the whole picture. In the same way that our memories play tricks on us we also have a tendency to romanticize places and times in our lives.

It wasn’t always the happy place that I shared with her. There were some really, really hard times there and some of those memories rushed back at me on that drive. I had tears in my eyes as I drove those curvy backroads because I knew that I may not return. Most of my family is gone and as I drove through at such a beautiful time of year it seemed like a perfect way to say goodbye. I can now remember this place in this way. A new memory for my mind to play tricks with.

I realize why my parents took us away all those years ago, more opportunities for us and for them. At the time it felt like the worst thing that could ever happen to me. Saying goodbye to my home and everyone I knew and loved was hard. After we left I spent most of my teen years trying to fit into a world that was so very different than the one I knew. This is something that I carried into my adult life, the need to prove that I belong, to make myself fit into the place I am in.

Lately I’ve been reflecting on moments in my life when things seem to go off the rails or when the best laid plans fall apart. Looking back I can see that good comes from those times. The plans that fell through led to something different – but good. It’s so hard to see that in the moment of disappointment, but life has shown me that good almost always comes from the bad. The disappointment of cancelling our trip only to go at a time of such fleeting beauty that it overwhelmed me. What a gift.

That move all of those years ago that felt like the end of the world gave me the gift of my family and the life I have now.

For so long I have thought of Kentucky as my home and for a part of my life it was. Kentucky will forever hold a special place in my heart but this place where I am now is where I fit perfectly. I belong, I am home.

Fever

I’ve always been one to seek and find joy in my days, even when they seem quite mundane – but lately I’ve been really struggling with that. The day to day monotony and struggles of life have been getting to me and making me feel restless. Then I got COVID…

After 2.5 years of avoiding it – it finally got me. My symptoms started suddenly on Friday and those two lines on the test confirmed my fears. I really didn’t think I’d get very sick. I thought maybe I’d just have a couple of days with my feet up, reading and being served my meals like a queen. Instead I spent the first three days in and out of fever with one of the worst headaches I’ve ever had. I alternated between shivering under 3 blankets and burning up, drenched in sweat. Nothing dulled the headache and sleep eluded me. The words in my book were hard to process so I binge watched TV and googled ways to get over COVID quickly.

I’ve been isolated from my family in my bedroom for 4 days now and I have found myself longing for those normal, mundane days. Suddenly I can see how lucky I was to have those days to stumble through, healthy and oblivious. I miss the hugs from my family that I took for granted. I miss human touch.

Yesterday my fever broke for most of the day and I thought, “this is it, I’m getting better” – then it returned with a vengeance last night. I took a shower and made my bed and those 2 simple daily tasks completely exhausted me, I sat down and wept. I thought about how ridiculous it is for me to be crying like this. After all it had only been three days and it could be so much worse. It felt like the universe was teaching me a big fat lesson.

Today on day 4 I woke up fever free and feeling more energetic after sleeping all night. I decided to shower and go sit outside and get some fresh air. After a night of rain and thunderstorms the air smelled deliciously fresh and earthy. For the first time in forever I sat outside and saw only beauty and not what needed to be done. I looked past the weeds in my garden to the blooms of my morning glories and my sunflowers so close to blooming. I looked past the stain chipping away on my deck and saw a cozy place to sit and watch the hummingbirds, who gave me a beautiful show this morning.

My husband and youngest daughter came outside and we had a socially distanced conversation and I was so thankful to see their faces, even behind a mask. I longed to reach out and touch them. Fortunately they are both healthy and still testing negative. It’s funny how we take calm and normal and boring for granted, now I want nothing more. Okay universe – I got the message, loud and clear. Maybe I needed this slap in the face in the form of a fever. Instead of seeing my days as boring or mundane I will try to see them as extraordinary and peaceful because that’s what they are. After all, what could be more extraordinary than being healthy and loved? Right now, I can’t think of anything better than that.

My Mental Health To-Do List

After having some struggles and setbacks recently I’ve decided that some change would do me good. I made myself a to-do list and now give it priority over all other to-do lists. Some of these items piggyback on the list of goals from my last blog post about reclaiming my love for summer. I am putting this list out there to hold myself accountable and to maybe spark some inspiration in someone else…

Do something good for me everyday

I know that is somewhat vague and can mean something different for everyone. For me it has meant everything from exercise to rest, depending on what my body needs. I’ve been suffering with a bout of planters fasciitis for a few weeks and as that finally began to improve I pulled a muscle in my leg. It’s been incredibly frustrating for me and has limited what I can do physically. While I have been physically unable to exercise I have been thinking about all of the days that I could have exercised but did not – I chose not to prioritize it – I am determined not to make that mistake again. Yesterday I decided to try to do some gentle yoga. I felt such a release physically and mentally that I actually began to cry during the session. I’ve never cried during yoga but I did yesterday and I think that it was definitely a good thing. Today I woke up feeling much less sore, much more hopeful and incredibly thankful.

Be mindful of what I consume

This of course means making better food choices but it also means being more mindful of what I read and watch. In addition to making better food choices I’ve been limiting my social media usage. Not only is social media a dumpster fire right now because of the non-stop cycle of unbelievable news but it has also brought out some ugly feelings in me. At times I find myself feeling inferior and I’ll admit to feeling jealous of all of those picture perfect Instagram posts I see. Believe me, I know that those are moments in time and I’ve posted many picture perfect moments when things were not as perfect as they appeared. But while I’m hobbling around, looking at what appears to be an insurmountable amount of work to do, knowing there is no vacation to look forward to, it can be a little disheartening to see those images. So instead of scrolling Facebook while I eat my healthy hummus wrap for lunch I’ll read a book or talk to my daughter.

Do something kind for someone else everyday

This does not have to be a grand gesture, it can be making a cup of coffee for my daughter who is rushing out the door for work. It can be letting someone over in traffic or giving someone a pep talk or simply reaching out to someone going through difficult times. I have been on the receiving end of those kind gestures and I know what a game changer they can be.

Spend at least an hour outside everyday

This one has been the easiest one for me. I thought that on the really hot days it would be difficult but I have squeezed in at least an hour every single day. On Saturday evening my husband asked me what I wanted to do and I said, “sit outside and watch the lightning bugs” and we did, we sat outside for hours watching them put on an amazing show. I think that counted as something good for me too.

Find something beautiful in everyday

This one has been the most challenging one for me. On top of my physical setbacks, we recently experienced a destructive thunderstorm which damaged our fence and trees and required costly and time consuming repairs. There were a couple of days I struggled to find something beautiful but I am back on track. I created an album in my phone called, Summer Beauty, and I try to add a photo of whatever it was that I found beautiful that day. I can’t wait to look back at those photos and remember that despite some less than picture perfect days there was a lot of beauty to be found this summer.

Today’s something beautiful, my hollyhocks in bloom.

Sweet Summertime

There are so many songs written about summer, I’m sure my music library has at least 10 songs about this season. Summer is a time that so many people look forward to. It begins when we are kids and summer means no school, carefree days and vacations to new places. As we grow into teenagers we look forward to sleeping in, lounging and soaking up the sun. When my kids were small they brought back the excitement for summer. I wanted to make their summers magical, I wanted our days to be easy, to take a break from the hectic pace of the school year. As they’ve grown up and I’ve grown older I’ve tried to hold onto those feelings, those expectations of what summer should be, but the older I get the further away I find myself from those feelings.

I have 1 1/2 more summers in my 50th decade, so many summers. The last few days I’ve been reflecting a lot on summertime and what it means for me now. Not much changes for me during the summer anymore, except that there’s so much more work to do outside and in August I’ll be another year older. I wake up at the same time and do the same things, my wardrobe is about the only thing that changes this time of year. Is it possible to bring back the excitement for summer? I want it back. I want to feel those easy summer feelings again.

We don’t have a lot planned this summer but my husband and I just had a little getaway, one night that we tried our best to stretch into a whole weekend. It was an early Father’s Day celebration and I looked forward to it for so long, then it came and poof it went. It was the most relaxed I’d felt in such a very long time and when it was over and time to get back to our normal lives I found myself feeling pretty down in the dumps. It happens, we look forward to something and then it’s over and life goes on. All of the struggles of life are waiting for us when we return.

After a few days of feeling kind of blue I decided to wake up today and have a good day, no matter what. I woke up a little earlier and changed up my normal routine. I went outside bright and early and pulled some weeds and tried to look at my yard and see the beauty of it instead of all of the things that need to be done. After lunch I decided that I needed to write so I grabbed my iPad and sat on the deck and started writing with the sounds of birds around me. Right now I’m watching a squirrel in my birdbath trying to find a cool drink on this hot summer day. A few minutes ago a butterfly was flying around me and kept landing on me over and over again and that was pretty cool, a magical summer moment that as a child would have made me giggle. Maybe this is what I need. Maybe I need to look for the beauty in this season and remind myself that it holds a purpose for me. I’m going to try that. Summer officially begins in 5 days, although according to today’s weather it is here, so I’m going to make myself a summertime to do list…

• Get outside everyday for at least one hour
• Give myself little things to look forward to
• Practice mindfulness and gratitude
• Find something beautiful in every day
• Look for my purpose in this season

Today’s something beautiful

Mr. Sandman

I’m tired, so very tired. Sometimes I wonder if this is just what being a woman my age feels like, I hope not. I’m at a time in my life where no one is waking me in the middle of the night, there are no more crying babies to soothe, there are no more monsters under the bed or sore throats or tummy aches. I should be sleeping all night long without interruption. But I am not.

So what’s the problem? Mostly it’s my mind, sometimes my bladder…ugh. Two of those crying babies who kept me awake so many years ago are all grown up and gone but they still keep me awake for other reasons. Worry and reflections keep my mind awake. Did I do the right things? Are they going to be ok? Did I do enough? Do I do enough? Two are still here with me and also fill my mind with questions and worries. Am I a good enough wife, mother, grandmother, daughter, sister, friend? What can I do better? Throw in some world events and tragedies and forget about it…sleep will elude me.

I try different methods to clear my mind and drift off but so far nothing consistently works. I use sleep aids when I’m desperate but I don’t want to rely on those. Sometimes I give up and get up and read in the dark living room until I finally drift off. The dogs are always very confused by this and come over and nuzzle me and sniff me to see what’s going on. I wish I knew pups. Maybe those sniffers of yours can figure it out.

I have read that sleep problems often occur in middle age and along with my predisposition for worry and anxiety I feel doomed to walk through my days just pushing through. It’s hard. Before I sat down to write this I was folding laundry and thinking that I would just love to nap….but alas I also suck at napping. So here I am sitting for a moment, having a wee bit of a pity party but I will push through and maybe tonight will be the night Mr. Sandman visits me. Now back to that laundry.

Thinking About Time

Yesterday I spent hours outside pulling weeds and doing other gardening tasks……Before I go any further can we just talk about how no matter what type of fitness routine you do during the winter months, nothing prepares you for those first yardwork/gardening sessions. All that squatting, I’m feeling it today…..Back to my original thought…So yesterday I spent hours trying to discard all the signs of winter and make room for new life in my garden….

For some reason I do some of my best thinking when I garden. Since I’ve been in the same home for 22 years I’ve been tending to the same yard and garden and many of the same plants for a long time. It often floods me with memories and feelings of nostalgia as I go about my work. I have creeping myrtle along my walkway that I planted when I was pregnant with my third daughter in 2001, I was only 28…so young. It’s amazing how those few little strands spread into what they are now. Yesterday I remembered squatting along that walkway planting, ravaged my morning sickness and envisioning what those strands would someday become. They have spread beyond anything I could have imagined. Every year I trim them back and try to tame and guide the growth to where I want it to be. It’s not exactly what I envisioned 21 years ago but it’s pretty darn beautiful…a metaphor for my life I suppose.

I wanted to get so much more done yesterday but time just did not allow. I started thinking back to years ago, pre Covid days when we would spend every spring getting our backyard ready for our big Memorial Day BBQ. I always wanted everything to be perfect inside and out before those summer kick off parties. My husband and I worked non-stop getting things ready and everything would be as close to perfect as we could possibly get it. Yesterday I wanted to keep working, to get things closer to perfect before I stopped, but I didn’t.

That feeling, the desire to keep going quickly passed. In recent years I have become increasingly aware of how quickly time is passing and I have placed a new value on that time. We have been talking about things we need to do around the house and in the yard and we’ve decided not to put deadlines on those tasks, we’ll do a little at a time. we will not spend entire weekends working until we’re too exhausted to enjoy the fruits of our labor. We will work and then we will stop, even if there’s more to do. We will sit together and look at what we achieved that day and feel good about it. We are both hard workers and take pride in a job well done but we have also begun to appreciate so much more just being together and being still. After all, there’s only so much time.

Thanks for the Memories

Everyday I look at my memories on Facebook, a look back at what I was doing on this day in Facebook history. Often when I look back at those memories I will remember not just the smiling faces in a photo or a sweet family moment but also what was happening in my life during those times. Sometimes I see sadness or stress behind the smiles. Sometimes it’s sweet and gives me the warm and fuzzies. Sometimes it’s painful.

Most of us share only a glimpse of our lives on social media, the pretty parts. We share a moment in time that portrays the image of our lives that we want the world to see, or maybe the life we wish we really lived. When I look back at those moments in time I remember all of the things that led up to or followed those photos. I remember what was going on behind the scenes during those picture perfect trips or the check-ins at fun places. I remember some really serious and difficult life challenges. I remember hurts and stress and worry. Sometimes I look back and feel so happy and thankful that those things are behind us or I think, “how did we get through that?” Sometimes I just remember a happy moment and feeling at peace. Those rare “real” moments that we capture and never forget.

Yesterday we took a trip to a beautiful tulip farm. It is the perfect place to take some great photos, a backdrop of tulips that stretches on and on. Everywhere I looked people were posing and smiling. I wonder if they will look back and remember the beauty that was surrounding them and the excitement of their children, or something else. I kept looking around and saying, “isn’t is just so beautiful?” I wonder if that’s what I will remember or will I remember the stressful morning I had before I got there. The oversleeping, the coffee mishap, hating everything I tried on, leaving late and getting caught by a train, the stressful drive there. I might remember all of those minor inconveniences….Or maybe I will just remember the beauty and my granddaughter running through the rows of tulips and picking more flowers than she was supposed to then having a little meltdown when she was told she couldn’t pick anymore. I’ll remember my 15 year old agreeing to a picture and smiling while holding her niece’s hand and having my 20 year old with us on a family outing for the first time in a long time. Mostly I’ll remember that on this day I was genuinely happy.

Making Space

Last week my oldest daughter shared a TikTok video with me, she said the woman in the video reminded her of me. I watched as a 50 something mother stood in front of a mirror applying her makeup. She starts the video by saying that the most exhausting part of motherhood that no one ever talks about is holding space for everyone’s feelings. She discussed a situation with one of her daughters, there was a disagreement, the daughter was upset, her husband was upset, everyone had feelings about it and this 50 something mother had to hold space for all of those feelings. I immediately understood why my daughter sent me this.

It really can be exhausting and the woman in that video was right…no one talks about it. It’s not just big situations and big feelings…it’s all of it, tiny inconveniences, grouchy mornings, all of it, big and small. On the flip side, it’s also the good feelings, I make space for those too.

I have always felt as if I take on everyone’s feelings, everyone’s troubles, bad moods and bad days. It’s like I absorb it right through my skin and all of those feelings take up space and they affect my own feelings and my own mood. Even when I try not to let that happen, inevitably it does. It’s like that saying, “ As a mother you are only as happy as your saddest child.” That is a fact. It’s exhausting. I’m exhausted.

Last week there were a lot of feelings in my house so the timing of this video was perfect. I was talking to my husband about all of this and I expressed to him that I need to find a way to stop taking on all of these feelings. I need to find a way to acknowledge the feelings, help if I can and move on. But how do I do that? My husband told me that I need to let them slide off of me like water off a duck’s back. He told me to be more like a duck and less like a sponge. He always makes me think about things in a funny and different way and I appreciate that. I love that guy.

So I guess I am going to waddle into this week… more like a duck and less like a sponge. Maybe that will be my new mantra, I’ve already whispered it to myself a couple of times this morning. More like a duck, less like a sponge…I’ll keep you posted.

The What Ifs

Do you ever find yourself wondering, what if? I’m sure that most of us have a moment that we look back on and wonder….what if I’d made a different choice or what if I’d handled a situation differently? Or maybe it’s the future what ifs that keep you awake at night. Is it the uncertainty or fear of what could be, maybe that worst case scenario you can’t get out of your mind? Sometimes I find myself stuck in a place of what ifs? It’s not a place I go often and it’s not a place I like to be, but sometimes I find myself dwelling there.

I am very happy and content with where I am in life. There are moments in any given day where I feel overwhelmingly thankful for this ordinary life that I live. Today for example, there was nothing extraordinary about today, it is just a Monday like any Monday. I went about my day doing all of the things I do every Monday, and out of nowhere I was overcome with a feeling of thankfulness and happiness. It wasn’t any one thing or any one reason that triggered that feeling, it was just everything in this beautiful, messy life. The last decade of my life has been full of challenges but in those challenges I have learned that gratitude equals happiness and I try to live a life of gratitude. But some days…

…some days I find myself wondering, what if I had taken the path of my ambitions? On those days I am full of self doubt and negative feelings that eat at me. Some days I find myself feeling jealous of someone who is doing what I might have done, had I taken that path. Then of course I feel guilty for even questioning my decisions or for feeling envious of others. The thing is, this path that I am on is not always easy, but neither is that other path. I have travelled on that path too and I remember being there and wondering if it was right for me. I remember many times praying and wishing that I could be on the path I am now on. So why would I wonder what if?

I think I wonder what I may have achieved, what I may have learned. Who knows, maybe in time I will tiptoe over to that other path and see how far I can go, see what I am capable of. Today though, on this ordinary Monday I am not feeling that self doubt. What if I am achieving greatness everyday on this path through simple acts of love and nurturing? What if right now I am exactly where I am supposed to be?

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

When I was in 5th grade I went on my first diet. I was around 10 or 11 and didn’t really know much about dieting, I just knew you were supposed to eat less so that’s what I did. That is when my love/hate relationship with my body and with food began. It was the mid 80’s and thin was the definition of beauty, the thinner the better. There were no full figured or curvy women on television unless they were the funny best friend, always in the shadow of the thin main character. We didn’t have Instagram or other social media pressures but there was still no escaping the images on our televisions or in magazines or the diet culture of that time. Since then I have spent the last almost 40 years worrying about my weight. Writing that sentence makes me feel really sad. That is so much time wasted, so much time spent obsessing over what and how much I ate and the number on the scale or the one on the tag of my jeans. I spent all of those years seeing food not as something to nourish my body but something to avoid. I saw it as the enemy.

I started thinking about all of this while finishing up the photo organizing project that I started back in January. I came across some pictures of myself when I was very thin. In one of them I was on the beach in a black swimsuit with 3 of my girls. We were all smiling and squinting in the sun, the wind was blowing our hair. What I see when I look at that picture of myself taken over 20 years ago is myself looking the best I’ve ever looked. What I remember about that time is hating the way my stomach and thighs looked in that swimsuit, I remember sucking in my stomach for the pictures. I remember the strict diet I went on before that trip and I remember still not being happy about the way I looked. I spent so many family trips and holidays avoiding photos or strategically standing behind someone or something or trying to stand in a way to make myself look smaller. I have hardly any pictures of myself during my pregnancies, that makes me the saddest of all.

I have done so many diet programs through the years, Weight Watchers, Atkins, intermittent fasting, calorie counting….you name it and I’ve probably tried it. I have lost weight in healthy ways and I have lost weight in not so healthy ways. It didn’t matter how I did it the end result would garner praise and compliments about how much weight I’ve lost and how thin I was, as if I had accomplished something miraculous. Do you know what I did that was miraculous with my body? I grew 4 human beings and fed them from my breasts. I kept them safe and happy and gave them love like no one else ever could. That is the real miracle.

What I hate the most about those years of dieting is that my girls saw me do that. I hate that I continued that cycle. I hope that they don’t get to this place in the future. I don’t want them to feel this regret. I want them to respect and appreciate their bodies and all of the things those bodies are capable of. I hope they see their bodies as the miracles that they are. I hope that they know that whatever size they are it is perfect.

I am at a place in my life where I want to be strong, fit and healthy and of course I care about how I look. I try to eat a healthy diet most of the time and I try to get some form of exercise almost everyday. Doing those things will not make me look like I did in that picture on the beach but I think it’s enough. I stopped weighing myself several months ago because even when I do all of the things I am supposed to do that number will never satisfy me. Even if I feel beautiful and love the way I look, stepping on that scale drains that away from me. I know that being a healthy weight is an important part of a healthy life and of course I want that but the number on my scale does not tell my whole story. It is not the only definition of beauty and health. I wish I’d known this sooner.

I know that I’m still going to struggle with this, it’s going to take time to change those voices in my head. I just hope that the voice telling me that I’m enough will be louder.

Hold My Hand

On Sunday my husband went into atrial fibrillation while we were car shopping. We didn’t know that at the time. He didn’t even tell me he wasn’t feeling well until much later. We bought a car and I was so happy and he just soldiered on despite not feeling well. He probably didn’t want to disappoint me.

On Monday morning he looked tired before he left for work and I was worried enough to text him later that morning to check on him. He answered quickly and told me he was feeling lightheaded and just not quite right. I urged him to go to urgent care and thank God he took my advice. The urgent care called an ambulance after examining him. He was in atrial fibrillation and his heart rate was very high.

Monday had otherwise started out normally. I was busy ticking things off of my to do list. It was a beautiful day. I took the dogs for a long walk. My daughter and I were in the kitchen playing one of our favorite playlists while working on a project together. That’s when I got the text from him.

The days that have followed have been full of hospitals, waiting rooms, questions, anxiety and lots of waiting. Right now I’m waiting in yet another waiting room as he gets a TEE with cardioversion which will hopefully reset his heart into a normal sinus rhythm.

Prior to this week almost all of the hospital experiences that we have shared together were centered around bringing a baby into the world. It doesn’t seem like that long ago but here we are having a very different kind of hospital experience. This week has shown me how quickly life can change. It has reminded me of what is truly important in this life.

Spring weather arrived this week and we didn’t have much of an opportunity to enjoy it but we did have one sunny afternoon that we were able to sit outside and soak it up. We just sat there, mostly in silence, just being still. No yard work or fretting over things to do or any of the other bullshit that we spend so much time focusing on. I need more of that. We need to be still together more. We’ve held hands more this week than we have in a long time. I want more of that too.

Love your people, show them and tell them.

Baby Let’s Cruise Away From Here…

I haven’t cruised through life, there have been many more bumpy roads than smooth ones on my journey. I’m just kind of used to that. I appreciate those smooth sailing moments so much when they appear because I know they don’t last. Kind of the way we appreciate the rainbow after the storm, that short lived moment of beauty that makes the storm seem worth it somehow.

Sometimes the bumps in the road I face are minor and I can swerve around them or take a detour. Sometimes I just have to go for the ride and feel all of the bumps and it shakes me to my core. Today I find myself on a new and unfamiliar stretch of road and I can’t see what lies ahead. I don’t know how long this part of my journey will last or how dark or how scary it will be. I just know that I need to keep going.

Me and My Shadow

My youngest daughter and I decided that in 2022 we were going to visit as many state and national parks as we can. Our most recent visit was to Conway Robinson State Forest. It was a beautiful hike with beautiful weather. I took plenty of pictures but this is the only photo she would let me take of her. I get it, I haven’t always loved getting my photo taken either.

My 15 year old daughter and I on a recent hike.

She is the youngest of 4 and I’ve always said that in some ways she got the very best of me as a mother. I was laid back and didn’t stress the small stuff. I didn’t feel the pressure to do everything by the book with her. On the flip side of that she also had a mother that was stretched too thin at times and as she was growing up I was entering some of my most challenging years.

When she was only 4 months old I lost my father to lung cancer. At the time I did not grieve for him the way I needed to because there was no time for that. I had 4 little girls who needed me. The grief came later when I least expected it. Looking back I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through that time without that baby girl. She gave us all something beautiful to focus on instead of our sadness. She was so happy and she made us all so happy too.

That baby is turning 16 this year which blows my mind. She’s this quirky, introverted, artistic girl. Beautiful inside and out, although she doesn’t think so…but who does at that age. I wish she could see herself through my eyes. She’s got so much life ahead of her, she could do anything. Right now though I just want to hold on to her. I want to keep her with me and I think she’s ok with that for now. We will have our year of hiking adventures. I can’t wait to see where we go next. Maybe she’ll even let me take her picture. If not, I’ll be happy with the shadows.

Is it ok to be ok?

I shared my first blog post on the day that Russia invaded Ukraine. I had been working on that post for a few days before I shared it, but still in retrospect the timing feels wrong somehow. The inner workings of my mind seem so insignificant in comparison to what is happening in our world. There are people in this world right now that are fleeing their homes in fear for their lives, people who have lived through unimaginable horrors. So many have lost everything including loved ones. Yet here I am writing about my midlife crisis and seasonal depression.

How is it so easy to compartmentalize these atrocities and just go about our lives? Have we developed a coping mechanism that allows us to just continue doing the things we enjoy doing while the world seems to be falling apart?

I find myself avoiding the news now because it’s so hard to be a witness to what is happening in Ukraine. Do I need to see it all? Should I watch even though the images keep me awake at night? I honestly don’t know the answer. It feels as if the last few years we have all been living in a world that has turned upside down. It has been one world altering event after another. Yet we go on because what is the alternative?

I will make a confession, when COVID first started there were a few months early on that I felt genuinely happy. In fact I believe I was happier than I had been in a long time during the spring and early summer of 2020. Part of that was that I suddenly had this very important purpose, keeping my family safe and happy and making sure we all had everything we needed. If you’ve read any of my other blog posts you will know that having a purpose is very important to me and in the spring of 2020 I had one. Not only that, I started new hobbies and planted a beautiful garden. But how was it that I could be so happy when the world was in turmoil? People were sick and dying and businesses were closing their doors. Looking back on that it feels so wrong, but was it? We all hear that it’s ok to not be ok but is it ok to be ok? Is it ok to feel joy in the darkest of times? It’s the end of the world as we know it, is it really ok to feel fine?

Obviously the answer must be yes. Throughout all of history people have found joy and happiness during times of great sorrow. They have laughed. celebrated and rejoiced despite it all. In the words of the great Albus Dumbledore, “Happiness can be found in even the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.” So maybe putting our joy and happiness out there into the world makes it a little brighter somehow. Maybe we are just turning on a light in the darkness.

The people of Ukraine are never far from my mind and I’m sure you feel the same. If you want to help here is a link with a list of verified charities.

https://www.today.com/news/news/5-verified-charities-working-help-ukrainians-invasion-rcna17590

Riding the Landslide Down

I think just about anyone who listens to “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac feels something when they hear it. It’s one of those songs that so many can relate to and it’s meaning can evolve over time. At least that’s the case for me.

When I hear it now it feels like a song for my children…

“Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m getting older too”

It’s easy to know your value as a mother when your children are little and need so much from you physically. You know that what you’re doing is necessary and important. My girls are older now and although they still need me in different ways I must admit I have days where I feel as if I’m not doing enough. Some days I feel that I’m not doing anything great or important anymore. What is my purpose now that I have built my life around my children and they’re getting older and I am too??

For the last two years, since COVID entered all of our lives, I have been spending more time at home. I work from home a bit and I work outside of the home very part-time, so I am here a lot. Some days I find myself moving from one household chore or task to another and wondering if what I’m doing is important. I have multiple to do lists and projects that keep me busy and focused but sometimes I wonder what exactly I’m doing. A couple of weeks ago I had a pretty long to do list and ended up only marking two things off. I was feeling like I had accomplished nothing that day so I decided to sit down and write down a list of some of the things I actually did do that day….

• Walk dogs one at a time in the rain ✅
• Clean kitchen ✅
• Laundry ✅
• Help one child with geometry ✅
• Give one child pep talk and life advice ✅
• Teach one child to cut a fresh pineapple ✅
• Make a delicious and nutritious dinner for my family ✅
• Clean kitchen again ✅

On paper it didn’t look like a whole lot but it was in some very big ways. I’m still needed. I have purpose and value. I think I am in an “in between season”. I’m a grandma but I’m still parenting. My day to day hands on parenting years are slowly coming to an end. I think I need to hold on tight while I can because before I know it it’s going to fall from my grasp and the next full fledged season will be here. “Can I handle the seasons of my life?”, I don’t know.

Yesterday we had a birthday party for my granddaughter. It was one of those rare family events that goes off without a hitch, everyone could come, kids were happy, weather was decent. It was one of those days that showed me my purpose. Seeing the love we all have for each other and the closeness we share gave me a glimpse of my life’s work. It was a long day of play and celebration and after everyone was gone I went outside to take out some trash and I stopped and looked up to that mirror in the sky and said out loud, “I’m so thankful for it all” and I really am.

My Invisibility Cloak

Last year I read a book, The Invisible Life of Addie Larue by V.E. Schwab. It’s about a woman who is cursed to be forgotten, once people turn away from her they forget her instantly. It’s as if they’ve never met. I devoured this book and felt this strange kinship to Addie because I too have spent a lot of my life feeling forgettable, invisible, unseen.

I envy people who are unforgettable, we all know someone like that, maybe it’s you! They leave a mark on everyone they meet, people never forget them. Some people have that confidence that makes people pay attention and hang on to their every word. As for me, I am definitely invisible.

Invisible woman syndrome occurs in midlife when women begin to notice that they are unnoticed. My invisibility began much earlier in life. I have never felt listened to when I speak and often find myself on the sidelines at gatherings. This is probably lack of confidence. This may surprise people who know me from my job dealing with the public. It’s so different for me to speak and feel confident when I am working because I usually have the undivided attention of a customer and I’m speaking about something I am passionate about. If I ran into that person outside of that situation they would not see me and I know this because it happens all of the time!

There have been two moments that proved to me that I am invisible. The first was at church of all places. I began attending a church in 2001 and became a bona fide member within a couple of years. I volunteered at VBS, taught Sunday school, attended all the functions and Bible study and was in the pew damn near every Sunday for over 5 years. One Sunday I walked into the sanctuary alone and I saw groups of people huddled and chatting and sipping their coffee. I looked around hoping to catch the eye of someone, anyone who would acknowledge my presence. No one did. I was unseen. I continued attending that church on and off for several years but that experience was the beginning of the end. It was never the same after that. If they cant see me they can’t miss me.

The other stand out experience was at a job interview at the elementary school my children attended. I had at least one child in that school for 15 years. I volunteered at the book fair, chaperoned field trips, donated baked goods, came to every honor roll assembly, had lunch with my kids often and even led a Girl Scout Troop that met in the PE room. During the interview I mentioned all of this and the principal looked at me as if this was all news to her, as if I didn’t see her every morning and afternoon at drop off and pick up or hadn’t passed her in the halls for literally 1 1/2 decades of both of our lives! I wanted that job desperately and at the time it seemed like the answer to my prayers. A job working when my kids were in school, in a place so familiar. I walked out knowing two things, I wasn’t getting that perfect for me job and I was fucking forgettable, unseen.

I run into people from time to time that I remember from various circumstances and if I say hello they usually look at me trying to place me. I’ll remind them of how we know each other, where we met. Nothing. Crickets or a, “oh yeah, I knew you looked familiar.” Nope, I don’t.

I had a moment last fall where I ran into a couple who were regular customers where I used to work. They kept looking at me and the wife said, “Oh my gosh, Jennifer! It’s so good to see you! We always wondered what had happened to you!” They remembered me! It felt like that scene in Its a Wonderful Life where George is standing on the bridge, snow falling all around him and Bert the cop runs towards him yelling his name. George had just spent the evening with Clarence, his guardian angel, seeing what the world would be like if he had never been born. So he’s standing there on that bridge and hears someone say his name and he looks at Bert and says, “You know me Bert?” That’s how I felt, I was seen, they knew me.

What About Your Friends?

My first best friend was named Ada. We became best friends in 6th grade when we both found ourselves without a friend. I’ve often found myself on the outside looking in when it comes to friendships. I was never anyone’s first choice I guess but Ada chose me and I chose her back. We lived in southeastern Kentucky, Appalachia. I was poor. I didn’t have nice clothes, I didn’t have nice anything really. Ada also came from humble beginnings and I felt at home with her and her family. We quickly became inseparable.

The summer after 6th grade my parents informed me that we were moving to Virginia where there were better opportunities for us. I remember looking out the back window as we drove out of the holler where I’d spent my formative years. I looked back at where I spent my days playing kickball with a milk jug, picking blackberries in the mountains and catching crawdads in the creek. Where I grew up surrounded by family, where I could walk to church or ride there on the back of my Papaw’s truck. My whole world, everything I knew quickly faded from my view. What I found when we arrived in Virginia looked nothing like what I left behind and finding friends was not going to be easy.

I spent my teen years ashamed of where I came from. I didn’t want my accent or the dialect that no one seemed to understand. I wanted to go home. I spent those years trying to fit in, trying to be someone I wasn’t and sadly that is something that continued into my adult years. I made some friends during those years. Not a best friend, not like the one I had left behind who knew who I really was.

I am now at a place in my life where I am comfortable with who I am, on the days I can figure out who that is exactly. I now embrace where I came from but I still struggle when it comes to friendships. Through the years I formed friendships around my children’s friendships and activities. Those friendships seemed to fade as our children grew. I spent a lot of those years making myself more like those mom friends, just like I did all those years ago when I was an awkward girl with a weird accent just trying to be like everyone else. It was never really me.

The last few years have been pretty challenging in the friendship department. There have been times that I have felt really alone. I have been hurt deeply by a good friend, a betrayal I still grapple with. The divisiveness in our country has certainly penetrated relationships as well and it’s sad to lose friendships that way. I look back at certain friendships and wonder how I overlooked things, red flags.

I think about the internal struggles I have and I remind myself that every woman I know is probably going through the same thing. Life gets heavy at this age. There’s illness, loss, parenting struggles, and so many other really heavy things. Sometimes friendships take a backseat to those challenges but it’s also a time when we REALLY need each other. It’s a time when we need to give ourselves and each other some grace.

At this point in my life my circle is small. I’m not even sure it forms a whole circle, maybe just an arc. That’s ok. Hell, I made it through 6th grade with just Ada and 6th grade is pretty damn hard.

I really wish I still had that accent by the way…

A midlife crisis with a smidge of seasonal depression. Or seasonal depression with a smidge of a midlife crisis?

It has been an exceptionally cold and dreary winter. Maybe it’s been no worse than winters past but this one has really seemed colder and darker. Every January and February I find myself fighting off the “winter blues” but this year there’s something else going on that seems to be exacerbating the melancholy.

As always, I went into January with a long list of goals. Get organized , exercise more, drink less wine, read more, be more present with my family…I could go on and on. I had some lofty goals. To give myself credit, I really have gotten more organized, I threw myself into organizing every closet, drawer, cabinet and nook & cranny in my home. It really was satisfying to complete those projects…. The drinking less wine goal was not as satisfying but that’s a blog post for another day.

After finishing those projects I began working on a photo organizing project. Going through decades of old photos has been dredging up a whole lot of feelings in me. I was talking to a friend and I told her that I had so much on my mind that I was either going to need to find a therapist or start a blog. So here I am writing a blog post that I’m not sure anyone will ever read. Writing has always been very therapeutic for me. I feel a sense of relief when I put my thoughts on paper and I am hoping that doing this will help me sort through all of these feelings.

Looking back at those photos has made me start to feel like the best of my life is behind me. All of those photos, all of those memories of raising our 4 girls has made me feel like there’s nothing that can top those years when they were smaller, when problems were smaller and life was more simple. I have spent so much time these last 2 very cold months reflecting on those days. I recognize that I am officially at that place in my life that every older woman in my life told me I would be someday, looking back and missing it. Man I am missing it. I have so much to be thankful for and so much good in my life but in this very cold winter of 2022 when I have practically zero vitamin D in my body, I want it all back. I want to do it differently, better somehow.

So here I stand facing down the second act of my life and it doesn’t seems quite as bright and shiny as the first. Life sure does get complicated as we get older. There’s this John Mayer song called “Born & Raised” and it’s all about the struggles of getting older. There’s this line, “I still have dreams, they’re not the same. They don’t fly as high as they used to” and man do I feel that. A quick internet search will tell you the signs of a midlife crisis in women and yeah a lot of what I’m experiencing sounds like that’s what’s going on with me. Women have different symptoms than men. I have been thinking about the stereotypical image of a middle aged man buying a shiny new sports car during his midlife crisis. I think I would prefer that to these deep reflections and existential questions. Also, I really need a new name for what I’m experiencing…I’m open to suggestions on that.

Maybe this melancholy will pass with the arrival of spring, which arrives in 24 days to be exact. This week we had a brief glimpse of spring with 2 warm and sunny February days. My youngest daughter and I went for a hike on Monday, the sun was shining through the trees and after a little while I was able to forget all of the things on my mind and I felt lighter. Yesterday it was sunny and 76° and I went out to my garden and dug my hands into the dirt and pulled away the dead plants and could already see new life sprouting below. Then I sat in a chair and put my head back and felt the sun on my face. I thought about another line from that John Mayer song, “So line on up, and take your place. And show your face to the morning. Cause one of these days you’ll be born and raised. And it all comes on without warning”. Damn it John Mayer, it really does.