There are many forms of healing
There are many forms of healing — physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual to name a few. I have been working through a lot of emotional and spiritual events from my childhood through adulthood this year and it’s been an amazing journey of self-discovery.
I am learning to love myself and accept myself fully. I have never loved myself, cared for myself, cherished this life I have been so blessed to live.
Every day I have with my children is another day I get to appreciate life. I am so grateful for that!
To wake up every day knowing that my heart is full is a gift in itself — and I love gifts!
And to know that I made that choice. I made a choice — a conscious decision — to be a mom.
Fully. Completely. And with my whole being.
I may be sustaining their little lives and big dreams physically, but they have provided me so much healing, mentally and emotionally.
I was a wreck
Before having children, I was a wreck. A hot mess couldn’t touch the level of destruction I was on. Bound and determined, completely unaware and yet completely disregarding the wreckage I was leaving in my wake.
Death or incarceration. Those were my only options.
I was in a downward spiral with no end in sight. And I was going to take everyone down with me.
I have faced some major emotional blows in my life. Soul-crushing. Agonizing, Defeating. Pain that has rocked me to my core and changed me completely in those moments. I have faced death – physically – on more than one occasion, and I am not afraid of it. But emotional death, that is a whole other monster to contend with.
When someone close to you is ripped away from your life, theirs suddenly ending by the hands of another, and you are left to clean up the aftermath — it changes you. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. Spiritually.
You begin to question everything. All the way down to “is there anything I could have done?” Well, that little question will drive you insane if you let it!
The hope that is no longer there
The part of your soul that has been crushed under the weight of the physical pain in your heart.
Is nearly, well, you’re not coming back from that. I didn’t come back from that. It was unbearable.
I planned my first funeral
I did wake up and face my only option — I had to bury my baby sister.
So I fought. In those few weeks, I fought my own numbing pain.
I. Planned. A. Funeral.
At 22, I planned my first funeral. And that changed me. Once more that week. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t not. So I did. I had to. For closure. To give her the last gift I ever would.
To celebrate and honor her beautiful life. The short 20 years that she was with us. And it was beautiful.
At 22, I never thought, in a million years, I would be choosing headstones instead of the apartment we were talking about.
I was choosing floral arrangements to send her home instead of down the aisle.
Our hopes and dreams of raising our families together died that day too. Sorting through family photos that we would never take again. Remembering. Wishing. Hoping. Praying. It was all just a bad dream. That I would wake up and she would still be here.
Her vibrant self
Her contagious laugh
Her loving openness
And her passion for life
All she wanted in the world was to live. To experience life. All of it.
She is free
And now she is free. Free from the crushing pain of this world. Able to watch over and protect and hold in her angelic embrace, the weight of the entire world.
She is able to protect us now in a way she never could before. I believe, with my whole being, that she has kept me safe, and alive, since the moment she passed. My very own, very special, guardian angel.
Free to fly through the heavens and dance among the stars.
She protects my children… her niece and nephew. She soothes my mother’s heart while she sleeps. And she reminds me not to worry. That this life is too short to hold onto pain. And anger. And angst. And resentment. She reminds me that I HAVE to live my life fully and completely.
I am blessed beyond measure and she is always with me. Holding me. Lifting me up. Guiding me. Loving me. She is still with me. She never left me, really.
That is how I keep going
Every time I close my eyes, I can see her. Feel her. Hear her. I can even talk to her anytime I choose. There is no voicemail. No busy signal. No unanswered text. No dead battery. And that is how I keep going.
I spent too many years in the darkness. In the aftermath. In my own head. Nearly a decade of depression and I lived through it. I survived it. Because I was brave enough to face it. I was bold enough to let go. I have an inner strength that sometimes people don’t understand how.
And it’s only by the grace of God. My loving, caring, gentle God, that I have been able to walk through the ashes of my barren soul. To reclaim my life. To live it the way I was always meant to. To write these words. To create this life. To share with the world, that no matter what happens, what events shape us, who comes into and moves out of our lives — that hope and love can never die.
Hope and love can never die
To share with the world, that no matter what happens, what events shape us, who comes into and moves out of our lives — that hope and love can never die.
We are changed
It’s never too late for you
And because this message needs to be heard. If you are here, reading this, it’s because you are supposed to be. There are divine forces working within me. Surrounding me. Holding me up. Giving me strength to put these words to paper.
To share with you, my message — that’s it’s never too late for you.
To mend the relationships
To make the phone call.
To send love.
To receive love.
To have hope.
To pull yourself out of whatever dark hole you crawled into because it was safe.Because you are protecting yourself.
Because you are protecting yourself.
You see, there a liberation that happens when you decide to release. A scary, uncomfortable, freeing sensation that washes over you when you choose to step out of the shadows. To move into the light — yes, blinding at first. And then a rush of calm. A peace. A special form of release.
There is healing in the light
Close your eyes and feel the warmth of the glowing light. As it wraps around you. Envelopes you. Holds you. And in that moment, take a deep breath in. Breathe in the light. Feel your whole being heal. Your heart, your soul, your mind, your cells, your body.
There is healing in the light. Glorious. Luminous. Hypnotic. Healing.
And it happens in an instant. A moment. And you wonder — why was I so afraid of this before? And it isn’t fear. You don’t fear the light.
You’ve been fearing the healing. The release. The idea that you will lose that person all over again if you don’t stay in the darkness. That you will feel that soul-crushing pain. And you can’t do that again.
Well, let me ask you then — what does that darkness do for you?
Does it get you out of bed?
Does it bring you joy?
Has it helped you grow the relationships you still have?
Does it give you hope?
Does it care for you?
Does it respect you?
Or does depression, anxiety, fear and insecurities live with you there?
It’s okay, love. I am here. We are here.
We are waiting for you.
Will you be brave enough to try?