It will soon be seven years since I started writing in this space and I have to say, it’s been such a blessing to share the good, the bad, the ugly and the desperate with hearts that choose to come alongside and encourage me!
But I’m tired.
I’m just not certain I can keep pumping out (even recycled) posts every single day.
I still have a lot to say-especially to those of you who are fresh in this journey and are terrified that the way you feelright now is the way you will always feel. It doesn’t have to be and I want to hold a lantern high so you won’t grow so weary that you give up before you see the path does eventually level out a bit.
So I don’t think I’m disappearing forever.
Honestly, writing isn’t what I DO it’s who I AM.
I can’t stop but I do need a rest from creating public worthy polished pieces that neither make my family blush nor make my readers scratch their heads.
I’m taking a break.
If you want to see posts, you will have to go to my public Facebook page “Heartache and Hope” or follow my personal Facebook page where I’ll put up some posts from the archives.
My goal is to give myself August to regroup, reenergize and rest.
Ninety miles an hour-that’s how fast my mind can go from here to there.
From what’s in front of me to what’s behind me.
From laughter to swallowing sobs.
We sit in a living room surrounded by toys and playing with children, talking about life and love and plans and people. The little brown face that turns his eyes to mine looks so much like Dominic I have to suck in my breath.
Giggles. Squeals. Cars running up and down my arm and around my feet.
Even though I got the news from a knock on the door and not a phone call, ever since Dominic’s accident I sleep with my home phone and cell phone next to the bed-I have to be absolutely, utterly reachable.
There have only been a couple times since he left us that they have rung in the dark of night or early morning, but each time my heart is jolted into overdrive and I cannot go back to sleep.
Yesterday morning I received a series of three (obviously wrong number!) calls around 2:15 a.m.
It was a fax machine-probably auto-dialed-and oh, so annoying because I didn’t even have the satisfaction of calling them back and fussing about their lack of courtesy and bad timing.
The only good thing about it was that the *beep*beep*beep* on the other end told me instantly it was not an emergency call from a family member.
I tried to go back to sleep.
I used all the tips and tricks I’ve learned in these four years to calm my heart and distract my thoughts. The two cats that sleep with me worked their magic and together tried to purr me back to sleep.
It was a no-go.
So I got up and came downstairs. Made the coffee, made the rounds and dropped feed in bowls inside and outside.
Sat down and started writing.
I do love writing in the wee hours of the morning-my mind is clearer and less prone to distraction.
But I hate rude awakenings.
It will take half the morning for the adrenaline to work its way out of my system and I’ll be dragging this afternoon just when I need to get things done.
I used to be able to roll over and go back to sleep no matter what woke me in the middle of the night.
Don’t you justLOVEphoto filters? They can transform a not-so-great picture into a work of art.
And with our phones attached to our hips like another appendage, we are one photo-snapping generation!
But when we choose what to make public-what to plaster across our favorite social media platform-most of us are as cautious as museum curators in deciding which pictures to include and which just don’t make the cut.
We are all about personal branding (even if we don’t realize or admit it!)
Of course this is nothing new-Solomon wrote in the book of Ecclesiastes that there “is nothing new under the sun”. It’s simply that what was once reserved for the rich, famous or infamous is now available to every Tom, Dick and Harry-and their kids.
I know when I want to share a moment on my little farm or show off some newly completed craft project, I’m very careful to zoom in and crop out the messy edges of my home, my property, my life.
It’s truly not that I’m trying to “be somebody I’m not” it’s more about trying to only let people see part of who I really am.
Because who wants all the ragged and untidy borders of their life exposed to the masses?
I’m afraid there would be too much ‘splainin’ to do (like Ricky used to say to Lucy) if people saw it all.
I might have to own up to my less-than-perfect housekeeping or my procrastination that means I still have piles of junk on my porch nearly four years after Dom left us.
Someone might freak out that my cats are allowed on the kitchen table (where we don’t eat) because it is too hard to keep them off.
People may whisper that they just can’t understand how I live with piles of books stacked everywhere and random animal supplies in baskets by the door so they’re handy to grab on my way outside.
But when I edit the life I expose to others, I’m also limiting my opportunity to make genuine connections.
Because if the people around me think I’ve got it all together, then they can be afraid to admit that they do not.
If the folks that follow me on Facebook think my life is all giggles and glitter, then they might be reticent to reveal that theirs is shadows and sorrow. If all I ever do is talk about, post and promote the high points of this journey, then who will want to tell me that they are in a valley and can’t see sunlight or maybe that they’ve even forgotten what sunlight looks like.
So I’m going to zoom out.
That doesn’t mean you won’t see funny photos or hopeful posts or encouraging memes on my timeline.
But it does mean that I’ll be out there-big hips, messy house, piled up books and all.