Fall is by far the most magical season. It has always held a special place in my heart. The beauty of the cool days shinning with the warmth of the sun, the crisp mornings and brisk evenings are soothing to the soul. It's the season of my favourite attire, hoodies. I live in hoodies. I live for hoodies. Bonfires, apple picking, pumpkin picking, carving pumpkins, baking, apple cider, Halloween, the list of wonder goes on and on. There is so much to love about Fall, everything except the days between September 5th and October 16th.
8 years. 8 years since this beautiful soul blessed me with 2 1/2 days of life. 8 years since I held my baby boy for the first and last time. 8 years since I slept holding my dead son, assuring he was warm until he had to be carried away in the dreadful black box.
The time of help and comfort from others in my situation has ended. Our monthly women's group is no more. Perhaps it may make a come back with the new staff and I sure hope it does because surrounding yourself with a group of people who have or are going through the trauma you are is incredibly powerful.. To sit amongst those who understand your feelings, thoughts, actions, responses and emotions, it's healing.
It started off strong. My game face was on and I was ready to tackle my incredibly long to-do list. Things on the to-do list included things that I've been meaning to get to for over 3 years. I struggle to finish tasks because when Bee is around, I always make sure my focus is on her. When she is off for a few days, I clean and organize like a mad woman. It works. This week though, despite starting off strong, ended with me on my knees, weaker than I thought.
Summer days have us drifting away to the East coast of Canada. We went, we saw, we conquered. Our souls relaxed and re-set. A bucket list travel destination has been checked off for both Bee and I. The beauty of the East coast is breathtaking. Getting there, not so much.
Did you enjoy it more this year than you would have last year? That question has sat with me for over 24 hours now. Chatting with my personal trainer about our recent trip to the East coast of Canada, I said it was an okay trip. There were a few things that hindered it from being amazing. He then proceeded to ask me that question. It's all I can think about....
Tears streamed down my face. I could not contain the tears no matter how hard I bit my lip and I did not care that people around me noticed my tears. They truly could not be contained. They were happy tears, tears of pride and peacefulness. They were tears of the past, caused by a glimpse into the old her. The old her I haven't seen in forever, not until the moment when she got onto the rings and was in her glory.
Personal growth is something we all experience. It's continuous in life, it never stops, it doesn't' have an end. Sometimes the growth is positive and sometimes the growth is negative. Sometimes people refuse to grow and stay within themselves. Personal growth is also hard for people to acknowledge. How many of you could sit down and write out the ways you've grown over the years? It's hard, sometimes we refuse to look at the growth or fail to see it within ourselves.
Wisdom is defined as "the quality of having experience, knowledge, and good judgement; the quality of being wise." Wisdom is a word I am often told I have. In order to gain wisdom, people must go through rigorous education and experience in a particular field. My wisdom stems from my trauma.
This post is going to blow your mind because I'm going to go against a very well known thought regarding forgiveness. How many of you have heard the phrase, forgive, forget and move on? I'm sure at some point we've all heard that if you forgive it means you have strength, if you don't forgive it means you are weak. Or maybe you heard that forgiveness will allow you to free yourself, or there is no peace without forgiveness? Here's the thing, you don't have to forgive to achieve any of that.
Locked my keys in the car. I didn't panic, I kept calm and dealt with it. You know what else was locked in there with my keys? My purse which contained my phone and my extra set of keys. I still didn't panic. I cursed the function of the car that automatically locks after a certain time once all doors are shut but I calmly walked inside, grabbed my moms CAA card and used their phone.
It is believed that to see a fox is a symbol of luck. While pregnant with Bee I remember sitting at Ty and Jacob's graves, as I often did in those days, and a fox walked right in front of me. I was caught off guard as foxes in the middle of the day typically mean the fox isn't all that healthy, nonetheless, when I got home I researched what it meant to see a fox. Research led me to the answer of "to see a fox is a symbol of good luck." At the time I prayed it meant the baby I was carrying would live and not be buried beside her brothers.
There is something peaceful and renewing about mornings. It feels like a fresh start and the best thing is, that feeling of a fresh start happens every day! I may wake up tired and groggy some mornings but once I meander out to my dining room/sewing room/computer room (perks of small house living) to sit and enjoy the beauty of outside, my soul feels renewed. It feels like it can tackle anything today.....until life happens.
Ever have a day when you feel down and out? Where you feel the heaviness of life, re-experience all your trauma? When getting out of bed seems like an insurmountable task? When sitting on the couch all day and eating ice cream seems like the only palatable option? Ever have a week when you feel this way? What do you do? How do you cope?
Rediscovering love and passion is one area I am focusing on. I'm not talking about relationship love, other than relationship with self. I'm talking about rediscovering your love or my love for life and things in life. Through all my trauma I feel I have lost who I was, I was per say, a lost soul. I misplaced things I was passion about and enjoyed doing. I do understand over time these things could naturally change, however, I feel most people have passions or interests that last many years.
It has been a dream of mine for years to foster cats. In all honesty, I want to foster dogs and kids as well but figured I'd start with cats. It has been a passion of mine, I deeply love animals and want to care for and love as many as I possibly can. I decided now was the perfect time to give it a try. Why not throw fostering cats into the crazy mix of life that it currently is?
The time has come. My journey has taken a new turn and with it, I feel this blog should come along for the ride. I've missed writing and sharing my story. I've missed encouraging others through their challenges. I've missed sharing photos of my lemon cats and now our foster cats (see lots has changed) and I want to jump back in.
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All Of My Children
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