We have all had a roller coaster of a time over here for the last few weeks, to be sure. We have laughed well and cried hard. We have shared music and sang. We have told stories that hurt. We have counseled, and we have been counseled. We have listened. We have walked. We have talked and talked and talked. We have tried our best to process painful things and lay to rest stuff of the past. Forgiveness (without forgetting them- how else do we learn?) We have celebrated a birthday. We have splayed our hearts open. We have written, and we have talked about writing more and telling more. Truths.
No matter how healed, we think we may be, until you’ve said to another: this is my truth. And you know you’ve been heard, someone has deeply listened to you, you were vulnerable and took some risks, followed your Intuition, and spoke from your heart…well then chances are you there’s still some healing to do. Please don’t wait.
Joe felt as though nothing good could come from his truth. But that’s not true. This cannot be the end. His story is now my story. Mine and mine alone; to write, to tell. But not by myself. Not “alone.” I do want something good to come from this. And though I don’t know what that will look like right now, I will figure it out.
We will all hurt. And then we will heal. The truth can be hard and cold and does not provide us with every answer, every time. But we will stay curious until we know all that there is to know. That’s human nature; it’s my nature.
I did not realize how much weight I had been carrying around on my shoulders. That changed on Saturday. It changed two weeks ago on June 26. It changed on March 12, 2020, our last day on the beach, driving off the sand for the last time of the season and reading that first email; “show canceled.” It changed many years ago when this story first began. Our world is continually evolving, and I want it to matter.
My dear friend Christie reminded me the other evening, that I have brought light into a dark place because that’s what truth does. A recess of the house, now illuminated. It will matter. Something good will come from it. It must. Maybe in bits and pieces, or perhaps all at once. We’ll see (one of Joe’s favorite lines.)
Before I go let me add some joy to this scene. Please, meet Grinch. Another gift. One from the heart. And though I didn’t name him, how perfect (if you know how Joe felt about Christmas, that is, and how much I always have and will continue to adore it.) He has been set free here in the country and is running and rolling all through the yard. He’s my new running buddy, though I have run nowhere yet. But I will. A car or truck door cannot be opened without him making himself right at home, in whoever’s car or truck it is. He is the sweetest dog- only two- so the perfect pet for me. No house training and no chewing everything up- that’s the stage I like to skip. Thank you, Travis and Krystal, and kiddos for this most precious gift. I love him so much already.
xo, and peace. Always peace.
Marie
Thinking of you and your family Marie. Prayers, healing thoughts and peace are my wishes for all of you. ❤️
Dear Marie,
I am praying for you all, and I understand stand what it’s like to live with those who suffer with depression and anxiety. Thank you for reaching out to others, and for helping to open it to light! Good will return from it.
Love you cousin!
I always say my dog is my sanity since my husband died over 6 years ago. She forced me to walk every day, making me be in Nature, the best healer for a broken heart.