The last few weeks have been intense, amazing, filled with laughter and tears, overwhelming, and completely unforgettable.
There was a plane ride to the farmlands, and a very windy road trip back to my Rocky Mountains with people I adore. There were muggy midwest spring runs, laughter with a new friend in the little local library, and far too many peanut M&Ms. I learned to play Carrom (the love child of pool and air hockey) and made my first stained glass window. There was mini golf and arcade games. Baseball with veggie dogs. I laughed. I cried. I closed a chapter of my life with people who get how incredibly challenging that’s been.
There was also the best day I’d had in a long time with one of my new favorite humans. Live music at the farmer’s market, laughing with strangers on Pearl Street in Boulder, pulling Tarot cards with street performers, coaching a homeless man, and crashing a couple scavenger hunts. And hugs, lots of big hugs.
Then there was the cold that came out of nowhere and forced me to stay in bed for three days. And in those three days I realized how much I love being at home, and how long I’d been gone. For four long, blurry months I’ve been on the move. Making new friends, living life to the fullest, and healing the layers and layers of grief that have surfaced. While being on the move has been hugely important for me, it’s time to get back into my life. It’s time to be home. It’s time to be in my business more fully. It’s time to focus on what really matters, so I can move forward after this huge loss of mine. And so I was home more in one week than I’d been in the first third of this year. And it felt good to be home.
There was the asking for help, and the admitting that my mind doesn’t work like it did before. Before the loss, before the grief, and before the unraveling. I’m learning to function in this life without the mind I had before… the one that remembered all the things and had a clear concept of time. For now, I do my best. I write it all down. And I ask for support where people can support me.
There was a day with my dad and my family, celebrating my cousin’s graduation. The adorable conversation with my grandmother about whether or not there were any men in my life, and her patting me on the knee with a loving, “well, there’s plenty of time.” The bonding over hanger. The catnap on my dad’s shoulder. The gratitude for the awesome family I come from.
And lastly, there were the flowers blooming everywhere. My favorite.