When life is going really peachy for me I tend to do two things.
2. feel guilty
I think to myself,
Wow, this is pretty great. Do I deserve this? Did I earn this? Is this a blessing to give me strength for a hardship to come? How long can this goodness last?
This admission doesn’t make me proud.
It’s been a flaw of mine for as far back as I can remember.
Take for example, the love I have for my husband–who I am certain is my soul mate, and yes I believe in that sort of cheesy thing.
With that love comes fear.
The fear that this is too good to be true, that surely this will be taken from me.
And every day I fear a world where he is not by my side.
A world where he isn’t stealing my covers or wrestling with Baby W in the living room. A world without the smell of his cologne and the feeling I get in my stomach when he walks in the front door after work–our eyes meet, and the look he gives me reminds me that we are on the same page. A world where I don’t feel the tickle of his fingers as he grips my hand and gives three loving squeezes.
I had these same feelings the moment Baby W was born. I can remember crying in the delivery room when the nurses took my baby away from me to put him under the lights. He was healthy, they were just taking precautions–but to me, this was just a taste of the pain that would consume me every time I felt helpless as a Momma.
I remember the crying spells I had after bringing him home from the hospital. I worried. Worried he would get sick. Worried he would stop breathing. Worried someone could drop him. Worried about every little thing. But mostly, I worried that I couldn’t live in a world without him. I had no idea how deep my love for him would be, and it brought me to tears for weeks. I loved him so much it hurt.
I think about my Dad, our relationship just beginning to reach its true potential. And I selfishly think to myself…I want more time. I want to make up the time we lost. Please let me keep him. I can’t imagine a world where he is away from me again.
And then there’s my Mom. My best friend. My rock. The wind beneath my wings. She gets a new mole and I can spot it a mile away. Did you get that checked yet, I ask her anxiously. Because I can’t imagine a world where I can’t call her a dozen times a day, even if just to find out what she ate for lunch.
These are my fears.
My deepest fears.
Losing the ones I love most.
I don’t talk about it with them, because really how do you have that conversation. But I think each of them gets me well enough to know.
Of course, I also embrace and soak in the good times.
Taking mental and literal photographs of every shining moment along the way.
I try to memorize the way those moments smell, the way they taste, the way the smile feels on my cheeks when a moment touches my heart.
Once I capture those memories, I put them in a safe place and hang onto them in case they are needed for strength and comfort in the future.
And this last week, our little family had many of these sweet moments–the kind you try to bottle up and keep forever. Like Baby W’s very first time in a swimming pool, and the matching dimple smiles he shares with his Daddy.
Our simple and special Father’s Day dinner.
Our new routine evening strolls down to the lake just before sunset.
Mommy’s little helper in the kitchen…who has even been open to trying new foods.
Lazy Sunday afternoons and a toddler who still detests pants.
And blank walls, to make new memories.
Thanks to all of you who have been so patient with me through our move. Thank you for your sweet emails, facebook messages and kind comments wishing me well. We are as settled as can be at this point, and I am officially BACK to blogging…and playing catch up of course. 607 unread emails in my box after a week, thats not too daunting or anything, hehe.