brand new day

Dear Grace, Happy 12th birthday!!!  I know I usually write a list of reasons telling you why I love you on your birthday, but as you approach your twelfth year I can't help but notice how independent you are becoming.  Time is flying by and before I know it, you will be a young woman. So here we are... I'm trying to step back and let you stretch your wings more and you're busy going about the business of becoming the beautiful young woman I know you will be.  How I wish I could freeze this moment in time and keep you my little girl forever. But time doesn't listen to the pleadings of a mother's heart and keeps marching on.  So this year, I want to do something different.  I want to make you a list of 12 things I hope you will always remember and keep in your heart as your journey through life continues. 1.   I love you, forever and always.   You are my joy and no matter what, I will always love you. 2.   You are enough.   There may be times in life w

I am a nurse and I used to work on a medical/surgical floor where a lot of our patients were post surgery.  Often I would have patients that would be frustrated with the pain they were experiencing or the activity limitations that would be thrust upon them after a procedure.  It was if they had expected that surgery would fix everything.  Go in with an infected gall bladder, come out sans gall bladder and voila! - healed.  Back to life as it once was.  Maybe that's an over simplification, but we do tend to be a society that moves more and more towards instant gratification, and that thinking seems to play out in a lot of different areas in our lives. I would always tell my patients, "Recovery is a marathon, not a sprint."  Today we'll focus on pain control, tomorrow let's get up and walk to the bathroom then sit up in the chair.  And the next day, let's go for a stroll in the halls.  It's one day at a time, baby steps.  It's an unrealistic expectatio

"Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass.   It's about learning how to dance in the rain..." -Vivian Green The other day I was getting ready for work and the shower was hot, the music was loud, and I found myself dancing in the bathroom.  It hit me in that moment that it had been a long time since I'd danced.  My kids and I used to dance all the time; kitchen dancing was one of our favorite after dinner rituals. But somehow life and its burdens had grown so heavy that dancing didn't happen that much anymore.  There was time and space for dancing, just no reason for it. It felt so good to dance again.  To be free from some of the stress that stifled that joy from springing forth.  It felt like being welcomed back into that safe place I had once created for myself.  It was like coming home, warm and familiar.  And it made me smile. It has been even longer since I've been able to get lost in a moment like that, to not focus on the chaos and

I got lost, again.  But getting lost is just part of the journey of being found.  I know this.  I've lived it. But it's so hard to figure out where to start.  So I've just been putting one foot in front of the other, moving in what I hope is a forward direction.  At this point, moving with direction is better than staying stuck or wandering aimlessly. I feel so lost because I've forgotten who I am.  I've compromised to the point of sacrificing myself, my beliefs, and my values - compromised to the point of sacrificing the very essence of who I am. Or so I thought... I'm realizing every day that I never gave myself completely away.  No one can take that from me.  Maybe they can shake my self-confidence, make me doubt my worth, or question my reality; but strip me down and take that which makes me "Me"?  Never.  There is a quiet voice inside me that is growing louder each day reminding me who I am. I am loving. I am kind. I am gentle. I am