Ball

Today I've had distinct impressions that I'm doing the right things for my little family. I'm sitting in my family room, listening to Spencer and Carson play, giggle, and invent new little games. I watched Carson try to start climbing up on things again with the little turn of his head to make sure I'm watching his 'naughty' behavior. And I listened to another new word from him--ball. It really is one of the greatest privileges I can describe. Being a mom is something I always wanted, and there really is something indescribable to realize the impact of creation. Each of these three little children were individually so desired and wanted for our home. It's just weird that they are now left in my care, without Adam. Certainly, neither one of us wanted children--our children--to grow up in a single parent home.

As I dropped off Justin to school this morning, I had a strong feeling come over me that this was what my life was meant for--to rear and raise our babies. Me, wearing slippers and navigating a rainy morning drive. It was just so right, so sensible. In that moment. It made me think that this was what I would continue to be able to do, and yet I logically know that I won't be able to do this forever. I just basked in the moment.

A song came on the radio yesterday that had a phrase that said something to the effect of there "being no life after you." I thought about that a lot yesterday. While I can mope sometimes and sort of feel that way, I know it's absolutely false. I will live, I will love, and I will progress. I am thankful that I have always been a fairly independent person and thinker, for I am well aware that these qualities will be what carry me along through the rest of my life.

Everyone grieves very differently. Yet, I know that my life isn't over at 31, I know Adam would want me to move on and find joy in the rest of my earthly journey. And it is my belief that these journeys weren't meant to be traveled alone. I don't know exactly what that means to me yet, but I have this belief nevertheless.

I have goals. Lots of them. And while I'm learning that hopes and dreams of mine have been dashed--the "what would've been" with Adam--most of the dreams I had for myself, for my children are NOT gone. I'm finding that many of those "us" dreams are just being altered. And it is progress. I'm learning to let go. It's tough, but it's good. I need to let go of those woulda coulda shoulda thoughts. A little at a time.

Breakaway. Kelly Clarkson says its best in parts of her song.

For today, I don't get to snuggle up to Adam and enjoy the rainstorm outside. Instead it's just me and a fuzzy blanket. Instead of having someone else to enjoy the chatter of my children, it's just me. And for today, it's ok.