Fall is here along with the lovely quotes that remind us of its power to show beauty in dying, magnificence in letting go, colors in endings.
But what about when the color doesn’t come?
This fall seems to be more brown than anything else. The weather this summer was certainly erratic enough to cause a loss of fall charm, and isn’t that how seasons go?
One season’s hard steals the joy from the next.
I feel this with trauma, the … continue reading
(For a more comprehensive look at my journey in 2018, see my blog post The Weight of What Happened)
Hey, five-years-ago-me,
It’s springtime again, the season of memories again, flowers blooming and sun warming and PTSD knocking again.
Like every year since, I wouldn’t need a calendar to know what time of year it is. This body of ours still reminds me, feeling the memories without even trigger, breath spontaneously shallow, thoughts swirling with potential catastrophes.
I am so … continue reading
Four years ago, spring had blossomed and Easter had been celebrated and then winter came.
That most beautiful time of seasons, little did I know, it was the end of beauty for a while, the ushering of a new beautiful season that would not be.
Spring was cut short in my life, the bitterest of my coldest seasons yet came instead, and I think I’ve always been a bit cynical of spring since.
By the time spring comes, I’m beyond … continue reading
We cross the state border, drive hours away, and are hit by beauty.
Golden yellows, deep reds, bright orange, pops of still fresh green. The hills rolled with color. It took my breathe away, filled my heart, and yet made me simultaneously sad. A sadness that rose from the lack of autumn scenery in our own area. A sadness of discontent, with the fall around my home that was brown and blah.
Why weren’t our trees dying as well as … continue reading
“The bio mom passed away.”
My stomach sank, heart broke, and devastation hung in the air when I heard those words. My tears fell, the tragedy of this woman’s life so bleak, the ending so unhappy. I was so sad for her, so sad that all the attempts at bettering never reached fulfillment. So sad at addiction’s grasp on too many. And so sad for my foster daughter to lose her bio mom this way.
And then the conversation … continue reading
“Hey, mama… do you have that picture…?” I wouldn’t even have to explain it anymore to my mom, she knows what I mean, she knows “that picture.” The picture of the first time I held my daughter, the first day I met her, the day that we began.
She knows, sends it back to me, back to my phone that had lost it when it lost everything. I have it ready, ready to post on Facebook in a couple hours … continue reading