Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Showing up

There is something to be said about just showing up. About being there.  Right now, I am not the nicest person to be around.  I feel like I have a perpetual frown on my face.  Life is all too much sometimes.  But I am showing up.

It is not just the baby thing.  Well maybe it is.  Since the day I found out I would miscarry I have been in a funk.  Before that day, I would not have called myself an optimist necessarily, but I did try and stay positive as much as a former goth girl could.  And I tried to be nice.

The problem may be that I never failed at anything I tried hard at.  School was always easy for me academically, although not always emotionally.  But, if I tried, I succeeded.  This baby thing, well maybe it is just not meant to be.  The most difficult part of it all is that for a short time, maybe even seconds, I believed it could happen.  Then God ran my heart over.

One thought keeps running through my head: silly girl for ever thinking you could be a mom.  Reader, please bear with me. I know these thoughts are not rational.  They don't make sense.  I know God is not punishing me for anything and the universe is not conspiring against me.  Some things may not be in the cards.  You have to, and I mean this, you have to be happy either way.

Yes, I show up but in a way, I feel like I've given up.  I am always irritable.  I show up to things because otherwise I would sleep all day and cry.  I learned much from my last year of high school in 1989 when I did give up and doze it all away.  That experience taught me that escapism is not how you deal with life.   You go to work.  You go to concerts.  You live life.  In short, you get up.

Take my seventy-four year old mom for example.  Mom fell and broke her leg two weeks ago.  Her positive tenacity has astounded me. "I'm not depressed anymore," she said one day after finding out she has to have leg surgery.  "Thank you for all you and your sisters do.  I have the best daughters."

When I think of her and how strong she is sitting in her wheelchair, my eyes fill with water.  OK tears.  I want to be that brave. And strong.  To believe in life again.

I want to show up with grace.

I just need to learn how.

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