Living With Grief

I’ve had grief on my mind lately. The last couple of years, my family and I have become well versed in grief, suffering hard losses that have forever changed the landscape of our family. These losses have left irreparable holes, ones in which we are just barely beginning to weave new fabric around. Still, even as we mend, the scars will always remain. You cannot truly fix what has been shattered. Pieces will always be missing. All you can do is try to put things back as best you can, and glue the fissures and hope it holds. There are the days that you know are going to be hard—the holidays, birthdays, each and every first without the person you love---and you dread those, because you know it’s going to hurt. Yet, you expect it. You grow familiar with the ache of tears in your chest and in your throat, the sheen of moisture that obstructs your vision. It’s expected. What’s harder are those days you don’t expect, where you’re blindsided.

Grief is an insidious beast. You can be going along about your day, feeling fine and then out of the blue, there it is. It could be triggered by anything—a song, a smell, just the random trick of memory, and you’re right back in the thick of it. That’s the worst thing about grief...it’s not something you EVER get over. It’s always there, lurking in the background, forever coloring how you see the world. That doesn’t mean that you’re always sad, or that grief is always negative, either. It’s bittersweet. It’s like the scene in Inside Out, where Sadness touches the memories, tinging them blue. Those memories aren’t automatically absolutely sad, or unhappy. Instead, the perception is now changed. You may smile even as your heart aches, and that’s okay. In fact, that’s a good thing. Shouldn’t you smile when you think of the ones you love? Of course you should! Losing someone doesn’t mean that they are gone from your heart. On the contrary, the person is that much more special. You don’t get new moments with that person, so you have to preserve those precious times that you shared.

Still, grief is a struggle. Missing someone never gets any easier. Losing my grandmother in January of 2016, and then my cousin a year later was a double blow that I’m not sure I’ll ever fully recover from. In fact, I know I won’t. It’s impossible to, because they are no longer here. I can’t call them. I can’t see them in person. My daughter will only remember them from pictures, and the stories I tell her. I think of them every single day. Pictures are still tough for me, especially with my cousin. To look at his picture still physically hurts me. Sixteen is simply too young to lose your life, and it’s hard to think of the man he would have become. I still remember rocking him to sleep as a baby, singing to him. I lost a lot of that connection with him when I moved away to college, and I never quite got it back, and every day I carry that regret with me. I should have called him more. I should have told him I loved him more often. Now, that opportunity is forever gone. We always think we’ll have time...until we don’t. That sweet boy would have turned 18 on April 1, and I miss him so much. The light he brought into the world was so bright. On those days when the sadness or regret is too much, I talk to him. I tell him all the things that I never got to say while he was here. It helps some, but I’d give anything for one moment in time to get to say them to his face. I know he’d just smile that huge, trademark smile, and give me a hug, probably make a joke, because that’s who he was. See, guys, grief in motion right here. I’m smiling even as I cry, because I can so clearly picture it all. Bittersweet.

You know what I think the worst moments of grief are? Those moments when you forget, for that brief second, that your loved one is gone. Not that long ago, I was in the car with my husband and Scoot, just having a conversation and I said, “I need to go see my grandma and tell her…” I trailed off, shocked that the words had come from my mouth, and my husband looked at me as I shook my head, heart turning in my chest. Even now, two years later, I slip. I forget briefly that I can’t go see her. She isn’t there. That split second of forgetting costs deeply, because when reality comes back, it hits hard. The mind is a tricky beast, and sometimes, it plays awful tricks. Yet, all I could do from that moment was take a deep breath, let the hurt wash through me, and keep going. You see, I think grief is different not just from person to person, you grieve in different ways over different losses. For my cousin, that grief is still sharp and shocking a lot of the time. His death was such an overwhelming shock that it colors the grief I feel. With my grandmother, the edges have softened some, but then I’ve had longer to walk the path. It’s not easier, by any means, but I had more time to adjust to losing her, even before she was gone, and I think that made a difference. There’s more acceptance. Still, either way, it’s a weight that I carry within me, and sometimes it’s overwhelming.

Even though it’s tough, and I struggle from time to time, I can’t be upset that grief affects me. Grief is simply proof that you loved someone deeply, and that they impacted your life. There is no shame in that, at all, and you shouldn’t feel any. Instead, I would argue that you should embrace it. I don’t mean dwell in it, and set up shop there. That’s not healthy either. Instead, you should accept those moments of sadness, where the tears flow. Accept them. Take that moment, and acknowledge your pain, because you know what? It’s proof that you loved that person you’ve lost. It’s proof that that person mattered to you, and matters still. Even if that moment happens every day for a while, that’s okay. There’s no timeline to feeling pain over loss. Anyone that tells you otherwise is a liar.  You are free to feel and grieve however works for you, because guess what? It’s YOUR loss. It’s YOUR pain, and YOUR journey. Hiding from it doesn’t make it easier. In fact, honestly, nothing makes grief easier. It’s not something you get through, or over, or any of those other platitudes. Instead it’s something you work with, and grow from.

You’re always going to miss those you’ve lost. Always. Missing them, hurting over it, that doesn’t make you weak. If anything, the power to grieve and show the love we felt through tears and memories, and smiles, that is the greatest strength we as humans possess. It makes me angry when someone says, “Jill should be over this by now. It’s been a year.” Why? Why should Jill be over it? Jill has lost someone. Jill will always have to face each day without the person she loved. Her life is irrevocably changed, and you don’t “get over” that. No, you just keep living. You adapt. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t still a giant, aching, sometimes festering hole in Jill’s heart, or that that hole will ever, ever mend completely. It won’t. If you cut your arm badly enough, doesn’t it scar?  It’s the same way with your heart, so why some people expect you to go on living as though you don’t have that scar, I don’t know. Wear your scars proudly. Cry your tears proudly. Know that grief doesn’t have to be destructive, that it can also be healing. Everyone’s process is different, as special and unique as they are. You don’t ever have to conform to what anyone thinks your grief journey should be because, after all, no one else is you. They didn’t love your loved one in the same way that you did. In the end, there’s not much any of us can do about the grief we feel. We can’t make it go away, or take some magic pill to lessen it. Even if I could, I don’t think I would, because I think that would cheapen all that I feel and all that my loved ones have meant to me. 

There is beauty in sorrow. The sharpest edges of the pain after a loss do wear away, but there are always going to be jagged spots that never smooth. I’ve heard grief described as an ocean, and I think that’s apt. Like the ocean, it’s mysterious, sometimes dark and turbulent. There’s always more going on under the surface than one can see. There hare hidden depths, and surprising beauty. It is breathtaking, and strong, but somehow, sometimes, elegant and even playful. The waves of grief carve you in new, different ways, and you will become someone different after a loss. Your coastline will change, but that doesn’t mean it will be any less, or any worse. Instead, it will simply be different. All we can do is learn to walk this new coastline, appreciating if not the reason for the changes, then our ability to adapt to them. 

Spider bites and Reading Lists

Hello, and welcome back, friends! This week, I’m keeping it pretty light. The last couple of weeks have been crazy for me, health wise. Earlier this month, I was bitten by what I think was a spider, and that bite got infected. I developed cellulitis, and was placed on a strong round of antibiotics. Just when I start feeling better, and about a week into that treatment, I realized I was allergic to my antibiotic. I’m now three days into a six-day course of prednisone, so honestly, I’m sleep deprived, cranky, and my brain isn’t clicking as sharply as it could. That being said, I didn’t want to let a week go by without posting, so this week, I’m going to share with you five of my favorite books. It’s a fairly eclectic list, but I hope that you enjoy learning about a few of my favorite books, and why I love them so much! These are all stand-alone books, none from a series, because that’s a whole other kettle of fish. So, without further ado, let’s get into it!

Edit: I have included links to each book from Amazon. As a new blogger, and a stay at home mom, this is a way for me to support my family. If you are interested in any of these books, please click the links provided!

1. Poisonwood Bible --- Barbara Kingsolver

I read this book the first time when I was in college. I was sold from the very first lines of the book:

“Imagine a ruin so strange that it must never have happened. First, picture the forest. I want you to be its conscience, the eyes in the trees. The trees are columns of slick, brindled bark like muscular animals overgrown beyond all reason. Every space is filled with life: delicate, poisonous frogs war-painted like skeletons, clutched in copulation, secreting their precious eggs onto dripping leaves. Vines strangling their own kin in the everlasting wrestle for sunlight. The breathing of monkeys. A glide of snake belly on branch. A single-file army of ants biting a mammoth tree into uniform grains and hauling it down to the dark for their ravenous queen. And, in reply, a choir of seedlings arching their necks out of rotted stumps, sucking life out of death. The forest eats itself and lives forever.”

In these few lines, Kingsolver uses language to make this scene not only visual, but so real it feels as though you are physically in this space. You can hear that glide of the snake belly, the hum of insects, the incessant drip of water. Even though you haven’t yet encountered a human, you have met a main character already, and that is the Congo. So, what exactly is Poisonwood Bible about? Well, it’s the story of the Price family, and their mission trip to the Congo. The trip is ill advised, as the Congo is in the middle of political upheaval, but the patriarch of the Price family, Nathan, is spurned on to attempt to save the natives of the small village where the family is taken. It is the story of not only wider political factors, but the family’s own splintering dynamic. Orleanna Price, the matriarch of the family, is forced into a situation where she must do all she can to hold her family of four daughters together. Told from the perspective of the Price women (Orleanna, Rachel, Leah, Ada, and Ruth May), a full picture of a new way of life amid the colorful backdrop of the Belgian Congo is revealed. Along the way, there is heartbreaking struggle and loss, told from the vastly different voices of the Price women. Told over the span of decades, it is a strong narrative of how one event in life can set out spirals throughout the rest of one’s existence.

Don’t let the title fool you, it’s not simply a book about religion, but it does deal with religion in some sense. More, though, it is about family, the ties that bind and the vicious cycle of abuse, mental, physical and emotional. It’s about the scars left behind by tragedy as well, and it’s imminently relatable, especially when told by the voices of such different women. The entire book is incredibly visceral, and I felt it in the marrow of my bones. The book covers a range of human emotion, using elegant turn of phrase and beautiful language to capture you in the narrative. I have read this book numerous times, and every time I do, I discover something new. It’s truly a novel that keeps giving, with a depth and emotion that I’ve hardly seen matched.



2. Anne of Green Gables—L.M. Montgomery

This book is a classic for a reason. It’s one of the very first books that I remember reading and falling in love with. I identified with Anne with an E, a girl that escaped into stories, struggling to find herself in a place where she didn’t quite fit in. What I loved about the book was how bright Anne’s spirit was throughout the narrative. No matter what happened to her, she found strength and joy, never allowing a dismal, abusive past deter her from looking from the bright side of life. Anne found beauty in everything, and she was a kind, generous, passionate girl that grew into a strong woman.  At its core, it’s a story of perseverance. Anne, a young orphan, is adopted into the home of Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert, an older brother and sister that live in Prince Edward Island, on a farm called, you guessed it, Green Gables. Hesitant at first, they grow to love the young with the indomitable spirit that has come to live with them.

If you’ve never had the opportunity to read this book, I’d highly recommend it. The language is beautiful, and LM Montgomery made me fall in love with Prince Edward Island. The way she describes the land makes the reader see it and feel it, and there is magic in that. I love watching Anne grow and prosper under Marilla and Mathew’s love, though they were very different in how they showed affection. Marilla is the structure and moral compass, sometimes a little harsh, but always for the right reasons. Matthew, shy and quiet, is the heart. He teaches Anne lessons about love and acceptance, showing never wavering approval of his Anne.

 I have read this book so many times since childhood, but the amazing thing is that even as an adult, this book holds up. It’s from a completely different era, but young children and adults alike can learn so much from Anne, and her approach to life. For instance, in this quote from the novel, you can see so clearly the arc of Anne’s character from a young 11 year old girl to a young lady grown and gone to college, quite a feat for a girl of her consequence in that era. ““There's such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that is why I'm such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne it would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn't be half so interesting.”  I absolutely love this quote, because haven’t we all felt that there is more to us than just what the world sees? There are worlds in all of us, many untapped, and it was defining for me as a child to read that being a complex person is not only okay, it’s normal.




3. Where The Red Fern Grows—Wilson Rawls

Yet another childhood classic that ingrained in me the love of a good story. This book WILL crush your hurt, I warn you. If you’ve never read it, it’s the story of Billy Coleman, and his beloved dogs, Old Dan and Little Ann. More than just a sweet story about dogs, it’s a story about sacrifice and love. The reason this book resonates so strongly still is that message of what it means to work for what you want, and cherish it when you get it. It’s about a boy’s love for his dogs, yes, but it’s also about hard lessons of growing up, and losing pieces integral to yourself. It’s about how life has harsh, sometimes strange turns, but how they can also grow to be blessings as well. The language isn’t flowery, and the book is quite simple, but this is one of those books that thrives on simplicity.

Sometimes a quiet narrative is best, and Rawls delivers his best here. One of the first passages that I remember grabbing in the book was “It's strange indeed how memories can lie dormant in a man's mind for so many years. Yet those memories can be awakened and brought forth fresh and new, just by something you've seen, or something you've heard, or the sight of an old familiar face.” Told in a straightforward way, there is no need for bells and whistles to describe Billy’s love and devotion for his dogs, or how strongly they impacted his life. This was the first book that I read as a child that showed me that not all stories have happy endings, and that there could be not only sorrow, but hope in loss.



4. Carolina Moon—Nora Roberts

Yes, a Nora Roberts book. I admit it, I love her work. I think I’ve read almost every one of her books, and I’ve enjoyed them all immensely, but this particular novel is one of my favorites. It tells the story of Tory, a young woman that is haunted by the death of her childhood best friend, Hope Lavell. It’s set in South Carolina, and I do love a good book featuring the South. Tory has to overcome insecurities and inner demons, learning to harness her power of seeing visions in order to finally solve the mystery of who killed Hope. Why do I love this book? Strong female characters, a good romance, and a driven plot line that kept me invested in the book until the very last page.

“Like Hope, I felt the fear. Fresh hot gushes of it. When she ran, I ran, my breath sobbing out so that my chest hurt from it. I saw her fall under the weight of whatever leaped out at her. A shadow, a shape I couldn’t see clearly, though I could see her.
She called for me, Screamed for me.
Then I saw nothing but black. When I woke, the sun was up, and I was on the floor. And Hope was gone.”

In this short excerpt from the novel, you already feel terror, sadness, and hopelessness. I love the duality that Roberts uses here, with Hope, both the girl and the idea, dying. For Tory, they are one in the same. Tory’s whole life changes when she loses her Hope, and that is a theme that persists throughout the novel as she tries to find Hope again. That’s the main thing I love about this novel. I love the setting, the primitive, sweaty, mosquito buzzed feel of the south bouncing off the page. The imagery is fantastic, pulling you into the story, and then you are further anchored there by characters like Tory, and Faith, Hope’s identical twin sister. It covers a spectrum of emotions and is the perfect backdrop for the danger lurking just beneath the surface. Of all the Nora Robert’s books I own, I think I’ve read this one the most, to the point I need a new copy because the one I have is falling apart.



5. Small, Great Things--Jodi Picoult.

“Not everything that is faced can be changed. But nothing can be changed until it is faced.” By and large, this book can be summed up with this one quote. This is a fairly new release, but it hit me in the gut like a truck. It’s such a timely book, discussing the sticky ins and outs of racism in American culture. It’s the story of Ruth Jefferson, a labor/delivery nurse in a Connecticut hospital, and an interaction with a Neo Nazi couple and their child. A split second hesitation on Ruth’s part sets the path for a life changing struggle that will have Ruth facing a myriad of changes. The book is complex, filled with complicated ideas on race from the point of view of Ruth, an African American nurse, as well as the father of the infant that changes the course of the entire book. Lessons are learned, changes are made, but the narrative itself is heartbreaking.

The book left me unsettled, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes, a book must come along and rattle your safe little world, and that’s exactly what happened with this one. It made me look into myself and question the way I myself see the world, and that’s rare these days in a novel. Picoult is a hit or miss author for me, but in this one she truly knocks it out of the park. It’s not the easiest book to read, but it isn’t supposed to be. It’s brutal, and honest, and at best, challenging, but sometimes, that is exactly what the best books are. Of all the books on this list, this is the only one I’ve read just once, but I would definitely read it again. It truly is a great, thought provoking read.



That’s all for this week. I hope you enjoyed learning a little about some of my favorite books. For me, books really are like old friends that I continue to revisit again and again. If you have any ideas or suggestions for what you’d like to see in the future, or any sort of comment, even a hello, to share, I’d love to hear it! Until next time, friends!

Moments

We each have moments in our lives that we want to remember forever. Big ones, small ones, the firsts in life, the lasts, these moments are the ones that make us who we are as individuals.  Whether it’s the first time you see your favorite band live, or a random Saturday morning conversation, these moments matter. Yet, more and more, we are seeing and experiencing these moments through our electronic devices. Think about it: these days when you go to a concert, what do you see? No longer are there lighters waving in the air, or glow sticks, but cell phones. People hold up tablets to film shows (and can we talk about how RUDE it is to hold up a huge screen and block people’s view of the show?) and bounce along with a beat. And yes, I’m just as guilty of whipping out my phone to record something for posterity, but I’ve also come to realize the sacred moments without the devices as well. Indeed, some of my most treasured moments have happened when there was no smartphone in my hand.

Listen, I am all for capturing special memories. You want to look back and have that image forever, right? I get it. What I have trouble with, however, is our seemingly incessant need to have EVERY moment recorded in pictures or on social media. Not every thought that passes through your brain should be shared. Not every moment has to be recorded. If you are constantly living your life through the filter of a phone screen, let me tell you, you aren’t living it. It’s passing you by as you try in vain to capture it. Instead, put that phone away. Watch the concert with your own eyes. Soak it in. That Saturday conversation with a friend? Be IN it. Absorb yourself in the conversation wholly. Take in that laughter, let it feed your soul in a way that it can’t do if you’re absorbed in whatever is happening on Facebook or Twitter.

Think of it like this: if you are in the middle of your dream coming true, do you want a smartphone blocking you from actually experiencing it? Of course not! You want to live in it! This idea that if there isn’t a picture, it didn’t happen is ridiculous. Moments can happen so quickly, without warning, and in order to truly soak them in, you have to be fully present. Remember when I said there was going to be some boyband content here? Here we go. Last year, I was fortunate enough to be able to go on the New Kids on the Block cruise. It had been a dream of mine for several years, and after long talks with my hubby, I was finally able to go. I shared the experience with my best friend, and a group of friends that I’ve been so lucky to meet over the years. While the entire experience was one that I’ll never forget, and amazing in so many ways, I’ll focus on one particular moment. On the cruise, you get a photo opportunity with the band. It is your one guaranteed chance to meet and interact with the group. Now, I am a lifelong Joey McIntyre girl. He was my first crush, ever since I was five or six. That is a LIFETIME of adoration, so the thought of meeting him face to face? Literally a dream come true for me.

The way these photo groups works is simple. There are two main groups, A and B, and each group has their pictures on a different day, so the lines aren’t so long and fans and band have time to relax between sessions. I was in Group A. There are 10 people per photo group and I was able to share this with a group of my very best friends. Many of them were past cruisers, so they walked me through, giving me advice. One thing I remembered clearly: “Don’t freeze. Talk to them.” I went into it thinking about what I would say, how I would say it, knowing that I would have only seconds with each group member. That all changed the moment I stepped into that long, long, winding line with my friends. We talked and laughed, and as the line inched closer and closer to the room the band was in, I felt my nerves kick up. My stomach jittered, and I could feel my friends looking at me and smiling seeing it happen for me for the first time. I clearly remember turning the corner and seeing them through the glass, feeling my heart stutter a bit. There they were. Suddenly, it was real.

Somehow, after that initial shock of seeing them, most of my nerves faded away. I don’t know why, and I wouldn’t dare try to explain it. Once I reached the door, personal belongings were taken and placed on a long table. No cell phones, no cameras, nothing but yourself is allowed on that stage with the band. You are forced to live in that moment, to come to terms with your nerves and your excitement and the reality that what you’ve dreamed of since you were a little girl is about to happen. Before I knew it, we were one group away from the stage and reality truly slapped me in the face. It. Was. Happening. Security reached a hand out, helping me up the short few steps, and there’s Danny Wood. I smiled at him, said hello, and hugged him. So far so good. Donnie Wahlberg was next in line, smiling so brightly. I hugged him, and then smiled up at him bravely and said, “I’m a cruise virgin.” Blockheads, as supporters of NKOTB are called, know that Donnie has a sort of alter ego called “DDub”, and DDub has his own way of speaking. Well, as soon as I spoke, the DDub came out. “Not anymore,” he practically purred back at me, and I gasped, hand rising to my throat. Yes, people, I swooned. He only smirked and rubbed my arm until my dumb legs remembered to move on to the next man in line, Jordan Knight.

My interaction with Jordan was brief, but I remember his smile, his careful hug. Sadly, my brain was still pretty fried from my Donnie interaction, but I still managed to chat with him until I reached Joe. And there he was, my lifelong crush. This was the moment I’d waited forever for. I smiled, said hello. He said, “Hi, how are you?” I hugged him, and said, “I’m f*cking awesome. This is my first cruise and it’s amazing.” He chuckled a little, and we turned, smiling for the camera, his fingers brushing over my shoulder. Two quick clicks from the camera and he turned back to me, smiling, dipping his head and looking me over. “I like your dress,” he told me, and with one last stuttered thank you I stumbled off, weak kneed and shaky. I had one big bone crushing hug from Jon Knight, stopped at the table and grabbed my things, and out the door I went to my friends. They gathered around me, chattering excitedly as I laid my head on a stair rail, needing a moment to steady myself. What else can you do when a dream literally comes true?

I later asked my friend who was beside me if it all happened the way I thought it did, and she assured me it did. It’s all so clear in my mind, every second of that brief interaction, from the words, to the sound of his voice, even the feel of his jacket. That memory is one that can never be taken away from me, or tarnished. Yes, there is a photo of it, but even better, because I was so in that moment, so engaged, it’s not something I’ll ever, ever be able to forget.

This is of course an extreme example of living in the moment, and I’m aware of that. However, it illustrates the point that sometimes, living is truly done in the moment. You have to experience the emotions of your life, from the highest highs to the lowest lows. Revel in your happiness, soak it in. When you’re sad, soak that in too. It’s okay to let yourself have a few moments of sadness, and even cry. Life, in all its many, varied facets, is meant to be experienced with a whole heart and soul, and not just fit into a tweet or Facebook status. And yes, take your pictures and enjoy those too. Just don’t let your life become about selfies and recording every second of your life. After all, if you’re depending on that phone to live your life for you, one day you’re going to look back and realize that your version of reality has been distorted by the fact you’re seeing it through a screen.

So the next time you’re having a “moment” big or small, put the phone away. Turn off that computer. Just treasure it. Feel the energy surrounding you, or the breeze kissing your cheeks, or the lick of heat from a bonfire, and absorb it. One day, these precious memories will be the stories you pass to your kids, and your grandkids. Make them count.

Treat Yourself

We’ve all seen the memes, the gifs, the pictures, telling us to “treat yo self.” And while it has become something of a fad here lately, I believe that taking care of yourself is imperative to a good life. It’s as the saying goes, “You can’t pour from an empty cup.” The problem is, most of us, especially the moms among us, do. We go and we go and we go, giving so much of ourselves that we begin to lose the very essence of who we are. Now, this isn’t to say that JUST moms, or JUST women go through this, because it’s simply not true. We ALL have times where we’ve given too much of ourselves, and it leaves us empty, cranky and wondering who the hell we are, and what we are doing with our lives. The truth is, we are living in a culture that tells us every day that we have to be perfect. We have to strive for the big house, the fancy car, to be the perfect parents, to have a big bank account, and to be all of these things. We’re bombarded with it every single day, and it wears us down.

Look, I get it. life gets busy. We have responsibilities that we have to tend to, whether we want to or not. Dinner has to be cooked, the kids have to be fed and bathed, and homework has to be done. Work doesn’t always get left at the office, and personal relationships need attention as well. Problems begin when we let these everyday stresses build up, until life has become nothing but a carbon copy of the day before, on an endless treadmill of routine. It’s colorless, lifeless, and soul sucking. It’s sad, isn’t it, in our quest for “perfect” that we let life speed by, never even taking the time to fully enjoy it? That’s why self-care is so imperative. We allow ourselves to become so overwhelmed that it makes us unhappy, and desensitized to it. Think about. You work. You do your job. You take care of the kids (or pets or parents or all of the above) and at the end of the night when you’re lying in bed, you’re already thinking of all the things you have to do tomorrow. All of these things weigh on your mind, your soul, your heart. After a while, all of that builds up, and causes more stress, sadness, and maybe even depression. You can only go so long caring for others without taking the time to care for yourself as well.

It seems like kismet, then, that yesterday as I was beginning this post, a particular song came on my Spotify list. It’s called Save Me, by Ed Sheeran, and for the first time I really stopped and listened to the lyrics.  It’s a song about giving all you have to those around you until you’re absolutely empty, and finally realizing that at some point you have to stop and learn how to save yourself. The chorus goes as follows:

Life can get you down so I just numb the way it feels
I drown it with a drink and out-of-date prescription pills
And all the ones that love me they just left me on the shelf
No farewell
So before I save someone else, I've got to save myself

Now, I’m not sure how licensing and all that goes, so before I go any further, know that I don’t own any of the rights to that song, or Mr. Sheeran, and I haven’t been paid to promote his songs. I’m just a fan, and happened to connect with this song. Isn’t amazing how sometimes the universe sends you something right when you need to hear it? I know how it feels to get bogged down in the needs of others, and just the toll of every day life. It’s an empty, lonely feeling, and it leaves you thinking that who you used to be is gone. That isn’t true. It’s a sign that it’s time for you to start listening to yourself and taking the time to say “I have to see me. I have to give myself some of the same attention I give to everyone else.”

No one wants to feel as though their needs and wants aren’t as important as those around you, but it happens. It is up to each of us to have the inner strength to say “I need a moment.” That moment can be anything. It can be painting your nails, or taking a hot bubble bath with a good book and a glass of wine. It can be fishing on a quiet lake. It can even be something more extravagant, like a girl’s (or guy’s) weekend. It’s about listening to your soul, and knowing what is going to charge your batteries. Only you can know when you need that break, so don’t be afraid to take it. You ARE worth it. It’s perfectly fine to put yourself first at times. Life is so short, and things can happen in the blink of an eye. Take the moments you need to fuel your heart and happiness. You’re not a bad parent if you tell your spouse he or she has the kids for the evening, and go out with friends. You’re not a bad son or daughter if you take a break from caring from a parent to go to the movies, or get a meal at your favorite restaurant. You’re not a bad spouse if you tell your significant other that you just need some “you’ time. If anything, taking care of yourself is going to make you a better parent/child/spouse.

Doing things that make you truly happy, refilling that cup of yours is going to give you strength. It’s going to bolster you on those days when you feel like crying or rocking in the corner. Most of all, it will give you the power to say “I am important, and I do deserve to be happy.” Own your happiness. Own your moments. They are yours alone, and no one can take them from you.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this week’s topic. Let me know in the comments what your go to is to fill your cup, or to self-care. I’d also love to hear what you’d like to see here, or what topics interest you. Like I’ve said before, we’re all in this together. Until next time, friends!