March 20, 2017
After Mason’s death, a little old lady (a patient of mine) found out that I had a dead child. She stopped, stared at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, and finally broke the silence by asking, “How do you survive something like that?” My immediate thought was to tell her that I hadn’t survived yet. I’m still not out of the woods. I still struggle to survive on a daily basis. But, if I am honest with her and myself, I have to admit. I have survived, today marks 354 days.
Immediately after Mason died, I questioned my ability to eat, breathe, walk, or take a shower. I wasn’t sure I would ever find joy again. What I ended up finding was a deep-rooted tenacity to live well. This soul-altering experience has allowed me to grow more than I ever wanted to. I am thankful for my growth.
My definition of survival has transformed into something more powerful and beautiful than I ever could have imagined. I am not a somnolent survivor. I am running into my future with a fierceness and insatiable hunger for happiness. Before March 31st, 2016, happiness just fell into my lap; joy was ever-present without me having to work for it. Now, I have to get creative in my discovery of happiness. When I can find this… it is amazing. I consider myself lucky to find bits and pieces of joy on the daily. I recognize that I am ridiculously stubborn and quite frankly, I’m pretty damn resilient.
Survival has been achieved through a combination of love, self-discovery, the garden, pain, self-discipline, maternal responsibilities, intense exercise, acceptance, family, friends, yoga, humor, honesty, vulnerability, and nature…
Remember to LIVE, remember to LOVE, remember to LAUGH. Life is way too short to not be living well.
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