We got home from the road trip and went on with life like it was ordinary.
Because, duh. Life goes on. We get off this huge high of DO and WOW and then we get home and I do some laundry and we hang a tire swing and then cut some trees down. It’s how I prefer life. With huge highs, amazing moments, and then the ordinary hard work of living mixed in. It’s all about balance anyway, about being grounded.
Laundry grounds me. I find my zen in my laundry room – which is why I have an entire Pinterest board dedicated to such a space. It’s MY space. Where method reigns, where I know all the secrets.
I was blown away by the response we had on the road trip – I was kind of expecting other people to be excited but I was completely flabbergasted that so much of the feedback was “You’re such a good mom!” “Best Mom Ever!” “What a lucky girl!” because you guys, as is wont to happen – I’m always the last to know.
I was getting emails from people asking me if my mom was this amazing – where did I get this from? I had people texting me randomly telling me how wonderful I was. This was all a little out of body for me, very humbling. And thank you, sincerely.
But you guys have it all wrong.
I did nothing different on this road trip, other than exercise saying yes more often, than I would on a normal day. We removed the pressures of living at home, the rules of “get along with your sibling, it’s time to make dinner, we can’t/don’t have time for that” and both agreed to see what happened. To see what we could find.
It was uncomfortable for people to say these things to me, simply because this trip was not about me. This trip was about her. It was about a tradition and making the time to make our dreams come true, of believing we could do this together – of tackling the road and the unexpected with an open heart. It was about teaching Jessica that the “levels” of life are visible – that she’s allowed to walk away, or directly in to where her heart is leading her.
It was about choice. About making a daily one to choose her. To choose family. To choose love.
This post was supposed to be a catch up of everything we’ve been doing lately – but instead we’re gonna talk about this, I guess.
Because never before has Choice been so prevalent in my life. Or the ability to look back and see that it always has been. Of coming to terms with my choices, some good, some not so good. Of coming to terms with my parent’s choices and the scars left behind. Of coming to terms with death and the choices that left behind and how I still refuse to choose the beauty in those ashes because I’m so sad. I feel such a heavy loss in the wake of a Wake. Still.
I’m always surprised when things aren’t as they appear because I so genuinely put it all out there. I am what I am, that’s all that I am. And sometimes I’m more than even I can handle – but I’m me. I’m the only me I know how to be. And I don’t do these things to be put on a pedestal or praised. I do these things because I said I would.
Because she still believes me, and I hope she always will.