Monday, December 31, 2012


What a month it has been.  Hubby has been traveling 25 of the last 31 days.  For the first 15 of those days with him gone, we all got the stomach flu and Little Lady had it for two whole weeks.  Then we all went to Florida for a residency interview with Hubby for 4 days.  Then we came home, emptied the summer clothes from the suitcase, filled it right back up with winter clothes and drove to Chicago for a week, spending  Christmas with my family.  Hubby also had to take his boards while we were there.  He took them on the 26th and 27th, which was rough, to say the least.  We came home from Chicago, unpacked, took the tree down, threw all the dirty clothes from Florida and Chicago in the basement and had a sleep over with the cousins.  And now here we are. (And breathe....)

Hubby took Little Man to the Science Museum to see Tornado Alley in the Omni Theatre, Little Lady is napping, the last load of laundry is in the wash and I finally have time to sit down and write.  Ahhhh.  I've been dreaming of this quiet time.  Just me, the keyboard and a steaming cup of tea.

I feel like there is a logjam in my brain right now.  The thoughts are all piled up and running into one another and I haven't had the time to think, let alone process the ideas and feelings swirling around up there.   So here I sit, wanting desperately to get words on the page, ideas formed, sentences flowing.  But it.just.won't.come.  There is too much. 

Florida.  I'll start there.

Hubby had an interview in Florida the week before Christmas.  We decided it would make a great family trip.  So for Christmas, instead of buying each other a bunch of stuff we don't need cluttering up our already overflowing house, we bought plane tickets.  And spent a night on the beach.  And went out for Sushi.

We saw old friends, met new babies, revisited some favorite places.  It was a wonderfully bittersweet getaway.  So many memories of my Jameson flooded my heart and mind.  He was my Florida baby.  He loved the heat and the beach.  I truly felt his presence while we were there, almost as if he orchestrated the most perfect day possible for us.  He and Jesus make a good team up there, throwing down blessings left and right for us.

It was a magical day.

We brought home a bag full of shells.  Yesterday I finally got around to rinsing them and putting them in a vase.  As I washed each shell under the water, I smiled as I realized all of my favorite shells are the broken ones.

There is beauty in the brokenness.  So much is broken in life and it is so easy to see the imperfections and want to start over.  To have everything shiny and new again.  To not see life through the filters pain brings.  But there is so much beauty there, too.

On days like today, I have to fight to see the beauty in it.  When I remember that two years ago at this very second, I was at my son's funeral luncheon, it is hard to see anything beautiful about this broken life and broken heart.  But there is beauty mixed in, even there.  

I would give almost anything to have my son back.  To have the happily ever after, shiny life.  But I cannot deny that this road has made me more beautiful in my brokenness.  This world has beat against me and washed over me and worn me down.  And I have cracks straight through my heart and they split open so often.  And it hurts so much it brings me to my knees.  And there is where the beauty begins.  Right there on my knees.  Where grace and mercy and love reign.

Ahh, I have so much more to say!  The logjam is no more.  But the girl is awake.  Stay tuned, I'll be back soon.

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