Chaos

The last six weeks have been absolute chaos. Moving my family of 5 (and a tiny, but high maintenance, dog) across the country. Getting the kids into their new school. Unpacking and getting the house organized. Getting my Mom here and settled. And then finally feeling like I might come up for air and realizing that the holidays are about 3 days away. Chaos. It’s just been absolute chaos.

But even in the midst of all the crazy, there have been a handful of quiet moments here and there. And in those moments, my mind always drifts here. To this process of loss and the people whom I’m missing so dearly as the holidays approach.

I had a really bad couple of days last week where I was missing Laurel so much I could hardly breathe. Where I was having the enormity of the move and everything that goes with it come crashing down on my head and I so desperately wanted to talk to her because I know she would have let me vent and then given me just the right perspective to get my head screwed back on straight. And if not, at least she would have cussed a whole bunch with me. Jesus, I miss her.

And our new home is steeped in Civil War history. Which means that I can’t even go to Target without thinking about my Dad. His birthday is about 3 weeks away. And I miss him. So much. I want so much to go tour all of these historic sites with him and watch his face as he steps onto hallowed ground. I want him to see how big Jamison has gotten and see his eyes light up as he watches the baby discover something new. My Dad took so much delight in his grandchildren. It makes me unbelievably sad that Jamison will never get to know that delight.

Loss has also taken on a note of absolute tangibility since moving as well. As I no longer have direct access to the community it took me 10 years to build. I’ve yet to meet anyone here who isn’t just about the nicest person ever, but when I was in the midst of the bad week this last week, I couldn’t go out with my girls. I couldn’t have lunch with a girlfriend and vent and cry. That absence served to compound the loss even further. So I retreated inwards. And baked a bunch of bread. And didn’t leave the house for a week. And was super cranky with pretty much everyone. It was not my finest moment. But I am allowed some adjustment pains I suppose.

Adjustment as I weave in and out of the eye of the storm. Perhaps that is the lesson of the last 6 weeks. Learning to soften further so that I can be pliable in the chaos. Fluid enough to absorb whatever jolts and jerks come my way on this path of immense change.