a love observed

I didn’t really wanted kids growing up, it was just never my thing.   As I listened to most of the girls I knew dream non-stop about their goal to one day be a mom, it became very clear to me that I was an anomaly in that.  It was not only one of their main goals in life, it was often the main goal.

And while I loved listening to them dream about it, it would never be my dream. And I was ok with that.

My dreams were just different. I wanted to learn to train dogs, play soccer, ride horses without saddles, and surf as well as any boy.  I wanted to study voice and learn to sing, to perform and share my love for music with the world. I wanted to write, go to school to study counseling and bring hope to the heartbroken.  I wanted to have huge dogs and love someone who I could truly call my bestie.

And so I did. I did all these things and more, and life has been beautiful.

This past year, two surprise children found their ways into my life, my belly and my heart. They did not stay long, but oh how I loved them.

I still do.  These two beautiful, precious souls taught me so much about life and love, and my soul at it’s core.  They showed me a piece of myself I had, perhaps, never really looked hard at.  When I love, I love deeply, perhaps fearlessly.  My heart takes in any creature put before me, and to a depth I don’t even understand.

I’ve always been that way, mom says it was my  superpower growing up. I could see people’s souls- their pain and joy-and I could love in a way she couldn’t always explain, on a level that couldn’t be deciphered logically.   When I loved, I just never half-assed it. I either did or I didn’t, there was no in-between. And I embraced the pain that came with it whole-heartedly.

My babies came to mess up my plan, to remind me that my plan didn’t matter.

Because, you see, they were never in my plan to begin with.  And then, once they came, my plan was to keep them, but it didn’t really turn out that way.  Funny thing is, I would do it all over again, just the same.

Why?  Because love isn’t contingent upon whether or not you get to hold onto that which you love, it simply exists.

Forever.

I got to know a love I didn’t know existed. And there it was.

And there it is.

They are gone, but not really. I think of them daily and smile. I know them, even though that shouldn’t be possible. I do.

And they remind me what a beautiful life this is.  I see them when I look into M’s eyes looking down into mine. I seem them in our two beautiful angel beasts they call dogs.   I see them in the sky, and in the sun, and in the ocean waves.

I miss them, but I am glad they came, and my story is different because of them.  To love the  beautiful souls and creatures around me, just as I always have, freely, deeply, and fully, that is a gift.  I continue to carry that love wherever I go, and now they are a part of me.

Just like fries in your milkshake

You know that moment when you are so aware of so much happening all at once that you just sort of blink and relinquish all hope of having any control or even understanding  what the hell is actually happening?  That sort of describes these past few months for me.

It’s not been bad, per se, just……interesting. Yes, we’ll call it interesting.

Like dipping fries in a milkshake for the first time. It sort of makes your skin crawl but you can’t deny it’s deliciousness.  It’s both wonderful and dreadful all at once and you’re not sure where the bad ends and the good begins.

But you keep on eating it and squirming and smiling simultaneously like some sort of idiot.

Somehow I have managed to, within the span of 50 days, begin the search for a home, purchase a home, go slightly out of my mind doing so, and sign my name so many times it now looks like a mickey mouse portrait.

Within the same time frame I was also informed by my doctor after a routine 3-month blood check that I tested positive for a secondary auto-immune disease called Sjogren’s syndrome, also a chronic disease.  What?  Is that even a thing? I actually said that to my doctor I was so disheartened.  He laughed, but I didn’t see the humor in my question.

This was an illness I was cleared for before but now must face head-on for the rest of my life. Again.  More symptoms to face and manage, treatment and medication I don’t want to go near, and all the bloody limitations I know comes with this sort of thing.

Really, did I really need another diagnosis?  It’s as if my body went, ‘oh hey, we’ve already got lupus, come on sjogren’s join the partay. The more the merrier!”

Kinda helps you understand a bit why I have a complicated relationship with my body. We are not always friends.

And the hardest part about this whole thing was simultaneously being informed that I also carry the anti-body that could harm a baby’s heart (should there ever be one, no I am not pregnant)  making me, once again a high risk pregnancy (should that ever occur).  Been there, done that, no need to add to the list.

Kind of the last thing I want to hear is that my body could hurt another soul before she even takes her first breath.  If I’m honest, this fun fact is the main reason I’ve avoided writing lately.   The acknowledgement of it is , of course, quite inevitable, as this is my reality at the moment.  And shit while it may be, I don’t edit out the shit.

As they say, black without white is just nothingness and vise versa. Or in my case, a perfect little life without the poo would just leave my shit shovel with nothing left to do in this world.

Or something along those lines.

Then the cherry on top was my mom being hospitalized with three blood clots in her neck as a result of that damn heart port.  That was sort of the last straw for me.  Walking into the hospital to see her I was like, “nope, I’m done”.

Whatever that means.  Life goes on, and she’s ok . Still waiting for it all to resolve, or dissolve in her case I suppose, but it’s amazing what the body and heart can actually take when it comes right down to it. I’ve known that my whole life, but it’s always good to be reminded.

I have always tried to live my life as if each day were my last, because the truth is, that’s all we’ve really got. And when you sort of think in those terms, all the stupid stuff that tends to bring us down seems to suddenly fade away.

Most things are not so important in this life that they warrant our mind and heart’s attention, yet we so often give it away so freely and lose precious life in the process.  Very few things in this life matter in the end, but those that do really do.  There is something comforting in the simplicity of that.

It’s what helps me not only survive and let go, but find deep joy every day, even when all my eyes see is gloom.

Yeah, so I’ve got a few more symptoms to deal with, I can deal with that. I am alive and breathing and not in the hospital today. I am, in fact, a better person for my scars.  Maybe I’ll pass along something to a kid I wish I hadn’t, but don’t we all? Yeah my hand is forever warped into a pen-holding shape, but look, we have the sweetest home I could have hoped for as a result. And hey, I’m done signing things now, yippitydooda.  My mom had a scare, but she’s here today and cancer free thanks to that damn port.

Nothing is quite as simple as it seems, and yet, nothing is quite as complicated as we tend to make it.

In short, life is still beautiful and I’m glad to be in it. All of it.