...forever and always...

The time is near...Can you feel it? It is that time of year where you feel the rush of new beginnings, independence, fresh concepts and crisp new school supplies. This year there is a more acute feeling of wonder with the last of my children starting the journey of school. Upon the notion of being alone in my house for an entire eight hours, anoesis descends with illusions of grandeur, i.e. cleaning, loafing, lunches with adults and basically anything I damn well want to do between the hours of 8 a.m. to 3 p.m. As my youngest ergate heads out with a great confidence, I have two phrases that keep echoing in my mind. These phrases are not only the reason why I write this, but moreover, my profound wish that my kids will always understand them.

"No one is born into this world with a timeline, they are born into this world with a purpose." This is a tough concept to really understand, but so many people, my children included, are forced to understand at some point. Life happens, some things are grand and others knock you out at the knees. Questioning why either happens is futile, and distracts one from dealing and moving on. Perhaps derived out of sorrow, it is also an epic silver lining. Live life not based on how many years you have to understand/do/play/love/hate/fail/master something. Live life as a paladin of purpose, understanding that no matter how long it takes or time you are given, you are here for an unmistakable reason. I hope my kids understand that they are the purpose for my being here, and I am grateful for every freckle on their face, every hair on their head, and every Lego that I unintentionally step on/pick up/mutter obscenities at. My greatest honor will be watching them find their purpose.

As my tiniest worker ant heads off to school in two weeks, I'm left sort of gobsmacked. Where has the time gone? He was just a drooling, nearly crawling, squawking six months old when we moved to Canton. He was who I spoke to every morning when I desperately needed it at 4 a.m. feedings in a semi light room. As the youngest, I think I have noticed his development more than the others because he has been my longest unpaid sidekick. This summer he has gone from a baby to a boy, holding his own with his brothers and displaying some want-to-be-bad-ass mannerisms that hopefully will not get him kicked out of school. My solace, at the end of the day, we say our prayers and he makes sure to tell me he loves me and to have good dreams. He's no longer a baby, but he unknowingly was and is my itty-bitty reminder of strength when you need it the most.

Nora is on the cusp of turning eight years old, mentally she's about 47. She is eager to start school, armed with a new bike bearing "pegs" so she can be a Canton's adaptation of a kiddie-uber. She keeps discussing how great it will be to give kids rides to school- I'm seeing many trips to the doctor's office in our future. Abe is excited, like literally was audibly heard saying a week ago, "I can't wait for school to start!" At first I thought he was being sarcastic, but then he went on to explain is declaration, he's ready for sixth grade so it seems, but are they ready for him? Oscar should be the most excited to go back to school as he has had the most changes over the summer- he's taller, his voice is deeper, he no longer has braces and I wouldn't be at all surprised if he starts growing a beard in the next two weeks. So much has changed, but thankfully he still has his sense of humor, which at times borderline on just fart jokes, but that's to be expected.

"Forever and always." A phrase used to express any number of things- life, love and happiness. This expression has taken on new meaning lately. The ability to feel and show others this catchphrase is something to be proud of. There was a time when forever was just the hours of 6 a.m. to 8 p.m., and always was something with a negative connotation...Now this collection of words means more than all of the best words chosen in the English language- I use a thesaurus a lot. Forever and always is how one can love and live. It is a term that while shouldn't be said lightly, gives security and serenity without fear of jettison into the harsh, scary waters of the world.

I'm grateful for these words as they mean more to me now than they ever have before, and I will never apologize for their overuse, but champion the power they hold. Much like the beginning of a new school year, we all open a chapter into a new life, new lessons, new experiences and of course new adventures. While I am eager to be able to pee alone for any 7+ hours of the day I choose, I am eager to see where this new school year takes us, what purpose we hopefully find for ourselves and understanding that "forever and always" is the greatest gift you can not only give but also receive.

...my first pancake

13. Some find this number unlucky. To me it has always been the number I bet on, the lotto ticket I buy or the number I hope to find on the back of my fortune cookie fortune...solidifying what some Chinese person I've never met, got it right. This week, it means a little more as it marks a moment in time that seriously seems like yesterday, and not 13 years ago.

Funny how people say, time flies. In the moment you either get it or think they are pacifying themselves for being old. When you finally notice that time has flown, you feel, old. It seems like yesterday I was getting a room ready for a baby I had not yet met. I was nervous, scared, uncomfortable and very pregnant. I sat in this baby's room and wondered, when did I become a grown-up? Would I know what to do? Would I get it right? Would I understand that life would never be the same? Various answers to these questions prevail and some I'm still asking myself. But 13 years ago, I entered the world of being a mother for the first time, and life was blessed with my Oscar.

Unlike anything I could have ever expected that is exactly what Oscar is. Creative, thoughtful, intelligent, funny, introspective, kind, unique and blonde. He came into the world, larger than life and since has carried that persona with him to this day. As a small one, he was always amazing me with his abilities that seemed to come from nowhere. He, perhaps prophetically, didn't start talking until he was a toddler. As a first time mom, you never want to compare your precious offspring in "first pancake" terms. The theory that the first pancake you make is just an experiment, clearly not comparable to a human, but you get it. You will mold this child into a perfect human being, because that is your job. Funny what you focus on when a child is so small. It all was made clear when we were walking down steps in our house one day, and Oscar uttered his first words. "That stupid-ass-dog..." properly commenting on our neighbor's incessantly barking dog. I was proud, shocked, excited and horrified all at the same moment. I had some things to learn, some audible words to clearly censor and perhaps a job application for my "first pancake" at the truck stop.

But this, as I know, is only the beginning. I write a lot about being a mother of a teenage boy, mainly out of ignorance, but it is just that. I think if I knew exactly what to do it would probably make me a crappy parent. We are just starting this official world of TEEN-DOM and while at times it feels like I should have been paying attention in psychology classes in college, I know that my "first pancake" and I are going to survive it, possibly not unscathed but never-the-less. I am proud to see him grow into his own, from that tiny little person who liked to hunt dinosaurs and Bigfoot in our back yard, to an albeit typical, weird hair growth, odd smelling, loveable, hilarious and cheeky guy. In a lot of ways he's like Yoda, as he really thinks about things before getting into a serious discussion, when he has something to say there is some pretty serious thought behind it. Other times he's like someone who has Tourette's syndrome, the latter probably because he is a teen. He likes to come into a room and give a look, no words, and just sits next to me. I make him wait a good two to three minutes before I break the silence and just ask what he wants. It shocks him and he always says, "Why do you say that? ...So, can I ...."

So as I set out on this journey, charting the smelly, hormonal, fart joke, patchy hair growth waters of living with a teenage boy, I will do so with courage, perseverance and a stocked liquor cabinet. To my "first pancake", happiest of 13th birthdays to you, may you someday understand that while we are in this together, I pretty much had no idea what I was doing the whole time.

 

...bb-guns and spitting contests...

Happiness. Pure, unadulterated, unending, unbelievable happiness...and no, I'm not making this up. It is the feeling, I was always told, when someone was once again content, adjusted, excited and thrilled about not only about their life but their future. I never thought this day would actually come, I never thought I would find something so elusive, but here I am and I cannot hide the smile from my face at any moment of the day.

Nora's happiness? Spending the month of June with my parents. The laundry list of things she was going to get to do was something akin to a bucket list, and I can't say that I blame her. The fun loving, free spirited, spitfire who bares my likeness is spreading her joy two states away. At first, it was sort of nice having only three in toe. At first it was sort of nice that the "collective we" left behind here in Missouri could sit in a small booth or ride in a regular car...that's just the game of numbers. But, here I sit, the only girl in my house, and I long for another "sista" to talk to or even to appreciate the fact that she doesn't pee all over the toilet seat. Here I am, longing for the one kid that, while easily entertained, does require a laundry list of "projects" to do for the coming day by 8 a.m. I miss her, despite keeping busy and grateful that she gets a chance to spend time with her grandparents, I worry.

I worry that she'll come home and feel let down. I worry the one on one attention that she is getting, while very well deserved, won't be matched when she comes home. She is quick to tell it like it is, I've raised her right, but I fear that when she gets home. I fear I won't be enough after her month long extravaganza. While I was excited that she was getting the chance to do something special, I never thought about what would happen when she came back---frankly, I thought she would get homesick, never figuring it would be me. But, in this crazy house of BOYS, Nora has earned the right to be made to feel special, and who can do that better than grandparents? Less than 7 days to go, and there will be so much happiness to see her, it might be sickening.

Happiness for the three boys left behind? NO GIRLS...clearly I am genderless to my male offspring. However, boys, just boys, are really pretty easy to deal with. Lower expectations, lower maintenance, lower threshold for fart jokes...feed them, turn on a PS4, take them to a pool, and that is all they need. I have asked them several times if they miss Nora, last night's explanation was priceless- Oscar: "Well, you know, we deal with her on a daily basis, so we don't really miss that." Okay? He sounds like someone who works in a dog pound. Nora's partner in crime, Atticus, misses her at certain times of day. They have their own system of things they do, most of which make little to no sense to me, but hey, it works for them. After having just boys in this house, it is abundantly clear to me why Nora is not what you would call a "girlie-girl", why would she be? She'd rather shoot a bb-gun or have a spitting contest. I imagine, for her, it is her survival and hopefully comfort mode in this house. Who knows? After a month out of this fraternity house, she might be a new woman. But I am excited to have my solidarity sister back again soon.

The happiness that where I currently reside? I think it is a mixture of a dozen things. I think it is growth. I think it is time. I think it is the long desired ability for my mind, heart and soul to open up again. I think it is seeing how where I have been has guided me, at times not so swiftly, to where I am. I think it is not over thinking every detail, but opening myself up to a million details, some of which I never thought I would get to have. Looking back, I can't put into words how much I missed it. Sure, I've written about it in 135 blogs, shared my good, my bad and my very ugly at times. But the happiness where I currently reside, makes me smile for more than 3 seconds...because I know I'm better for it, I deserve it and I'll be a better woman/mother/sister/friend because of it. Summer has officially started, the directive I give to you? Find your happiness, you're worth it.

...friends, sunshine and fences...

Fences. Some people have emotional, some have psychological and others have independence fences that they yearn to break free from. While these fences are built for protection and security, sometimes they are built for avoidance as it is easier to corral a matter than actually dealing with it head on. Recently, my very eloquent best friend put this whole notion into perfect perspective, begging me to really ponder the idea of merely, testing the fence.

Meanwhile, at the corner of body odor and strange hair growth, I am on the cusp of having a teenager in my midst. It is a young man's yearning for independence while not completely wanting to do everything that is associated with it. The sage advice given to me from multiple people have been filed in my brain, like cheat codes for life. I watch as this once tiny person grow taller than me, voice drops, tastes change and mind grows even further into adulthood. I will never claim to have all the answers or even pretend to know what I am doing at any given moment, but I feel like I'm driving blind into a storm. It is slightly terrifying. My hopeful mantra is that every time I am about to lose my shit, every time I'm wondering what I will ever do correctly by him, every time I'm contemplating the no doubt Karma that I must endure...I need to remind myself that his testing fences, while infuriating, is the healthy and normal.

My fences used to be multiple. Much like the kind you see in pictures of gulags, all barbed wire and menacing. I used them for all of afore mention reasons, but probably most definitely to try to restore some sense of sanity, where there was little found. They were protection, security and avoidance of dealing with life. But as time moved on, the fences came down, and with each one a subtle sense of accomplishment, like a secret badge that only I could see. With every fence I learned something not only about myself but the world around me, and marveling at the view I had closed myself off from. Not seeing what could happen, and worrying about what might happen, is unhealthy and unproductive. With the fences down, I now know more than ever that what I feared on the other side was actually nothing to be scared of. It has given me the chance to know what life could be like and I'm grateful every day.

Fencing or free range? Not on your life, with four kids, free time is where you find it. Sometimes you have to rise before the sun to steal a scant 45 minutes, other times it is the five minutes you allow yourself in the bathroom when your kids thankfully do not know where you are. Even walking through Aldi, I try to time it so that I can have my kids eat lunch in the car while I blissfully, and albeit rapidly, make my way through the isles ALONE. The importance of "kid free time" is something akin to a get out of jail free card while playing monopoly. You know it is in your back pocket, and while you sometimes have to move heaven and earth to make it happen, YOU DESERVE IT. Sadly, I never really understood the importance of this notion until I became a single mom. All of those times that I could have gotten away, and I never used the opportunity, it was a psychological fence I should have crossed, but never made it happen. Oh hindsight, why are you so perfect?

The exhilaration of travel is like jumping a fence while not knowing what is on the other side. It is something that some people have never been lucky enough to experience, while others do it so often it becomes common place. I have been lucky to be able to experience this from a young age. There are some things while on a plane I always notice. The thrust of the engines. The jerk back you feel in your seat when the plane puts up its nose and climbs into the air. The clouds as you rise through them, the beauty of which is never lost on me- the textures/colors/light. It is a sight that probably most take for granted. To me it is a moment when this control freak relinquishes this annoying power and looks out the plane window in awe of the world. But as time has moved on, my experiences dwindled as life did not really allow it. The night before I left I was taking advice from my 18 year old niece as she is a world traveler (a girl after my own heart). The adventure is sometimes in getting where you are going, but you don't want to get there without your underwear or hair gel, you know?

But, every three or so years my mental gulag opens, and my best friend woos my sense of adventure into overdrive. Much like thinking, "Everest? Yeah, piece of CAKE!?" we plan a getaway. This year there were no broken bones the night before thankfully, and my family once again stepped in so that I could make the whole thing possible. Like a NASA space launch, all calculations came together and all of my precious offspring were somewhere so that I could go on a "kid free" vacation with my oldest friend. While connecting all of the dots were painstaking, everything fell into place. My gratefulness to my family cannot be properly put into words, but please know it is very real.

Less like a fence, and more like a small natural stone wall built upon experiences and memories are what I got the chance to have while on vacation with my best friend. The opportunity to experience serious talks, sunshine and meeting strangers. The chance of making memories, laughing, finding new places that you love and talking about loves we are blessed to have in our lives. These kind of times are necessary, needed, priceless and heady. Every three years I've been given the gift to remember where I've been, where I am and where I want to go. This best friend and I have seen each other through some of our worst times, we tell it like it is and champion each other often. Many times on our vacation as we were chatting with strangers, it's our hidden gift, they would ask how we knew each other. We'd tell the story of how we've never lived in the same state let alone the same town. The same thing was mentioned multiple times to us, the concept of friend-soul-mates, our reason for meeting so many years ago was in no way chance.

I actually missed my precious offspring while jumping a fence for excursion, but I needed the therapy of being just myself and not a mom for a few days. I needed the recharge, not only being out of my every day but also being with a person who knows me better than most and picking up where we always leave off. Fences down, fences tested and never a fence on adventure and friendship! Thank you to my family, April and Key West!

...to Graduates, Middle Age and Bucket Lists

It's funny what comes with an upcoming road trip with four kids. The lists have started. The laundry is being washed as we speak. The mental time tables have been made, and we're still a mere seven days out from leaving. The amount of junk that I have piled up in the corner of my room would get me a guest spot on the Dr. Phil Show or at least a prime time spot on the TV show Hoarders. Nearly 13 years I have been traveling with kids to Indiana or destinations beyond. Why is it still an assemblage of cringe just to leave the driveway?

This trip is not necessarily like others we have taken. There will be family, friends and memories to be made, but there will be celebrations. My niece, whom it seems like yesterday she was born, is graduating from high school. I am beyond grateful to be her aunt, noting quite often that I'm not necessarily cool enough to be related. She is this amazing young woman with an awe inspiring drive and sense of adventure and she will no doubt turn this world on its ear. She is wise beyond her years and brimming with the ability to discuss/debate/inform on any topic, and she's not yet 18 years old. It has been an honor to watch her grow up, but the next scene of her life will inspire me and no doubt all of those to which she comes into contact. She and I share the same first name, and I marvel at her thirst for wanderlust. Katherine Grace, I cannot wait to see where life takes you.

This trip is also a celebration of sisterhood, friendship and family. My sister Kelley, is nine years older than me. We shared a room and a bed for the first 10 years of life. She saw me through bed wetting, bras, periods, fashion mishaps and subliminally taught be every song created from 1980-1986. Other than my mom, she has been the other woman I have been blessed to look up to, draw advice from and emulate, if at all possible. She bought me my first album, Huey Lewis and the News, Sports. She took me to my first concert, Chaka Kahn. While she might be turning a very pronounced 50 years old, in my eyes she is still 18, teaching me about green M&Ms, telling me the best way to wrap a class ring and making friendship pins on our stunning rainbow shag carpet in our room at 153 Washington Street.

Sometimes you are lucky enough to find friends you consider family, and the luck comes in the idea that they aren't actually related to you, yet they still claim you. I am blessed with my friend April, of whom I met at the age of 17, on the other side of the world, and we have been friends ever since. While I have worn the "40 Year Young" sash for longer than she, we are heading out to cross off an item on her bucket list. A full on, over the top, blow out, 3 day extravaganza declaring to anyone who is crazy enough to put up with us, "Make 40 Fierce!" I am imagining it akin to Thelma and Louise, except no one dies at the end. Our last no kid, south of the Mason/Dixon Line adventure was far too long ago, we owe it not only to ourselves, but let's face it the world. My goals are to laugh, enjoy a cocktail, tell stories, soak up the sun and make memories with a person that I am REALLY GOOD at making memories with.

For the first time ever, Nora is spending nearly a month away from home. Her brothers are going to camp for a week, and really needed some such adventure of her own. She is heading up to stay with my parents, which is right up her alley as it is a whole new audience to try out her already worn out material that we get to see. She thankfully let me pack her bag for her, as her notion of "hobo-chic" is not something I want shared with the world. Every time she talks to my mom, there are new and wondrous adventures that they have planned with her while she is there. I'm curious if she'll even want to come home. She has to be excited to get some one-on-one time as that is somewhat of a rarity around here. My hope is that any bad manners that I'm trying to get her to stop doing, will be taken care of by July 1. However, I'm sure by then she'll have developed a longing for MASH reruns and nightly popcorn snacks. TOTALLY WORTH IT!

This summer we have a lot to celebrate from beautiful women to bucket lists! I am grateful that I get the chance to take my kids to see their Indiana family, as it doesn't happen every year. My hope that no matter how our two-state-away-stay-cation goes, we can make memories, have fun and get out of the norm if just for a little while. I realize my nostalgia is getting ahead of myself, knowing they'll no doubt remember is the things that go wrong, or they time I yelled at a Burger King Drive-Thru for no other reason than exhaustion...yes, I speak from experience. My wish is that they can see the quality time verses the quantity and take one minute of the entire trip and know that if it weren't for me, the 10 day trip would be really uncomfortable if someone hadn't packed their underwear.

Where is Isaac Washington when you need him?

...the end is near. Can you feel it? Can you feel the complacency that is most simply entitled "The Last Week of School?" Soon there will be piles of supplies that were either gently used or ravished but "have to be saved" because they hold some hopefully not forgotten memory of the grade that was. My house is currently under the state of appearing like a "hazardous waste sight," so I am on protest. Why clean now, when I will no doubt need a dumpster to clean whatever comes out of a backpack/locker/cubby on Friday? So, I lie in wait...

Usually, I have come up with some sort of system or schedule to try to counter act my no-doubt problems with the complaint department, my precious offspring. I ready myself, as if charging the breach for the following statements: I'M- bored/hot/tired/hungry/annoyed with a sibling/dealing with sensory overload/might be two days from turning into a vampire because I've sat inside for too long. Then there is the comment that I count the days until I hear, "...you're no fun." Fun? FUN? Who do you think I am? Julie McCoy from The Love Boat? And if so, where is Isaac Washington? He's more along the lines of what I need in this house at times. Why do parents fall into that drastic, laugh in the face of death trap of feeling like they have to entertain their kids all summer long? What happened to just going outdoors?

Honest to God. I don't think I spent one minute in my house, other than to eat or use the restroom (and let's face it sometimes that was easier to do outdoors), EVER! I would wake up in the morning, head outside, grab my bike and I was off! Of course, I had to round up my crew, all of which lived on my block, and the rest of the day would just fall into place. Riding bikes around, of course never leaving, the block for HOURS. We'd take a break to pretend fight off monsters or be in a cut throat cop chase, and be back on our banana seat Schwinn bikes. Not sure how it was that we never left the block, but from any point of said block, you could always hear your parents calling you in for dinner...that was the only time we stopped. Then as the twilight of the evening would set in, we would try to catch those magical lightening bugs or play ghosts in the graveyard, whilst trying not to pee your pants in fright.

But today, there is a whole marketing scheme to try to keep kids merely entertained during the summer. Camps, sports, art, music, engineering...it's like applying for a college course load. Every day is a chance to learn something new, I'm all about that. I guess where I'm stunted is the mere fact that we have to leave our yard to do so. Are we creating individuals that are incapable of entertaining themselves? Are we creating humans that need some sort of circus show every 45 minutes? As an adult, you don't do this for yourself. You might set up a few fun trips over the summer...take some trips to the pool...catch a movie. As an adult with children, most of your summertime is trying to deprogram your kids from being a hermit or resembling Gollum from lack of human interaction and sunlight.

So, I sent my kids to bed, under protest of course because why have a bedtime during the last week of school and so on, with an assignment: Think of one thing a week (swimming doesn't count, that is my thing to wear you out) that we can do. Something cheap, attainable (No Nora, we cannot go to a firing range) and E-D-U-C-A-T-I-O-N-A-L. Yeah, that last one ought to make them scratch their heads until the wee hours of the night. In summers past, I would just make up a schedule, not as something that must be followed to the letter, but more a standard of living...something akin to "Taco Tuesday." My hope is that if there is some ownership in the plan, there will be less arguing, complaining and dare I say quite possibly more fun. I already lowered the boom that one morning a week everyone is helping clean...they were super thrilled with that one.

The findings of my assignment were insightful...Well, not really. Nora was the only one who really took the assignment seriously, writing out something fun to do every day of the week. Clearly, she is the Julie McCoy of this Love Boat! Some of her ideas were, but not limited to: baking, board games, walks to the park, cleaning and library visits. Her tenacity and determination were commended and her plans will be put into action. Then very abruptly, Abe merely suggested that they play outdoors everyday (which I'm sure will not be thrilling by day 5) and Saturday would be an inside day. Oscar protested the entire assignment as something not worth his time and energy, stating "...it's not like we're actually going to do any of this..." To which I declared that the summer of '17 is perhaps the FREE BABYSITTING SUMMER he had always dreamed of. Atticus, exactly as his personality dictates, merely said, "Yeah, I'll go with the flow..."

So as The Love Boat of 815 Washington, well not exactly a lot of outwardly love, navigates its way through the next 3 months called summer, we do so with purpose. Hopefully we will learn something, be entertained, educationally enriched and well, let's drop some truths, survive to tell the tale. On a side note, I am currently taking applications for persons willing/able to fill the role of Isaac Washington for the summer of '17...

...ghosts

I spend a lot of time seeing ghosts. Ghosts of my past, ghosts of my present and ghosts of my future. It is a hard concept to explain as no matter what has happened to a person, no one else really knows what it is like to walk in their shoes, even if their experiences have remotely been similar. It is all part of life, everyone's life, I'm not special in this circumstance. But it is how you perceive these ghosts that determine where you were, what you are doing and most importantly where you want to go.

The house that I live in is full of ghosts...figuratively speaking of course. The history that resides within its walls is telling. The old woodwork, interesting nooks, bubbly old windows and charm resonates with a person. Even nearly five years after moving in this beautiful place, I can still just sit and marvel at who once sat where I was sitting. At times I feel like if I even listen closely, I can hear the day to day that must have once gone on here, that is if I can hear them over the day to day that is currently going on. In the simplest of terms, this house feels like a hug when I have needed it, a headache when I don't know how to fix something and reminds me daily that I am, for now, right where I need to be.

My children routinely portray a ghostly glimpse to me, the likes of which used to break my heart and silently shatter my will. I would see something in them or something they did that only I knew was their dad. I wondered if my face was, at times, a tell . Then, as time passed the glimpses' edges softened, and what I saw filled me with the pride in knowing we were surviving. The ghost was a friendly reminder not of something lost, but of what I will continually gain by being their mother. I get to see them grow into these unique individuals all the while knowing that the very best parts of their father and I, we gave to them as their start in life, the rest they get to decide for themselves.

Then there are the ghosts within myself. The person I once was is so very different from the body that I walk around in today. The person who I once was is a vague image, like an old picture of people that you can't quite remember everyone's names. The person I once was, wasn't better or worse, just different...naieve...at times ungrateful for what I had. The ghosts that I see within myself have changed from that of just putting on a "brave face" to knowing and realizing that I have a bold face, the likes of which I have to love even when I don't want to. The person that I once was didn't or couldn't understand or comprehend all that life could throw at her, doubting everything she did. Doubt is inevitable, but growing and learning from it is the silver lining at the end of the day. The ghost that used to haunt me, daily and hourly, was the concept of when things were going to get better. The cliché of "...you'll know when it does", made me want to drink, scream, cry and merely give up. The fact that things actually got better without being alerted via text message, meant that it happened in such an organic way that it was REAL. It wasn't something I was doomed to have to repeat for an eternity. The "better" ghost was happening by just living, breathing, loving and healing, and while I'm proud of where I am, I'm not sentimental enough to invite that ghost back.

For the first time I can see the future ghosts, not looming in a bad way, but in a coruscant and brilliant way. These future ghosts are the ones that will reassure me of where we have been, how lucky we are to have each other and will no doubt be the moments that will fill my heart with pride and my soul with ease. These are the moments used to vex me, wondering how I would ever fill a possible void of the person not present for graduations, marriages and grandchildren. When you stop letting something you have no control over scare you, it is a freeing feeling. These future ghosts will always be present but more in the way that you see a symbol like a rainbow, butterfly, humming bird or an owl. Their subtlety will reassure you that once again you are just where you should be...and three seconds afterward you smile.

Find your ghosts, embrace them if you can, learn from them what you will and love them the best way you know how.