A rock feels no pain. An island never cries.
For others, my tears may be uncomfortable.
My wailing. My anger. My fear. My sadness.
And that is ok.
I sit with you, among you, beaming from behind you with compassion.
No one wants to be a Debbie Downer ... omg how I despise that saying.
I have spent the entirety of October suspended somewhere between two feelings: fear + hope.
I have dedicated my time to caring for my family and honoring the grief that has made a home in my body.
We have been preparing for a huge surgery. Triple, possible quadruple bypass on his heart. It will happen on Monday the 17th of October. (catch up here)
My life right now is hanging in the before space. The reality of our foreseeable future is that our life will be identified in two parts: before and after surgery. Kinda like when we had Angie and we were deep in the living with a baby, this was the only way to identify how our life had changed. Before and after. I also know we will blossom and glow up out of this place too.
So. I am here. Rooted. I may write. I may disappear. I may be on the social media. I may not. Where I will be is home, living here ... loving here ... with the two people that mean everything to me. I really don't care about anything else in the world at the moment, and I know you get that.