Different and Same
It’s been one week since my last blog post. As the day after that last post came to a close without my sitting down to write, I almost panicked. It felt as if I had neglected to brush my teeth or drink water or change my underwear – stuff you do every single day. It was just plain unnerving.
As the days have passed, a sense of freedom has begun to take hold. Even after just one week of not having “blog” on my daily to-do list, I can’t fathom writing every single day. I’m just now realizing the magnitude of that commitment. There aren’t a lot of things I would ever commit to doing every single day for a year.
As an enneagram 7, I get all angsty at the idea of a routine that dictates what I will do with at least two hours of my day for 365 consecutive days. My compelling mantra throughout, especially on nights when I was drained of everything, including words, was – do this for Chandler.
In some ways, January 9, 2020, is very different from January 9, 2019. And in some ways, it is very much the same. The biggest difference – I am not planning my son’s memorial service today.
I also have a bottom left molar now. That may seem trivial, but that gaping hole has been a constant reminder. On December 31, the day before Chandler died, I had to get my tooth pulled. In preparation for an implant, I’ve had several dental appointments throughout the year, each a reminder of all the feelings and events of the day before the day. On Friday, thanks to Dr. Regan, the gap disappeared. I ran my tongue over my bottom teeth and it didn’t fall into a hole just before the back molar. It was wonderful! After my appointment, Charli and I went to The Habit for cheeseburgers. We used gift cards given to us last January -- even our cheeseburgers were a reminder of Chandler. As I bit into my burger and began to chew, I became absolutely giddy! For the first time in over a year, I didn’t have to adapt everything about the way I was chewing to accommodate for that darn missing tooth. It was sublime to just chew again – like my old normal.
In a way, the feeling of wholeness and normalcy of getting a tooth back is symbolic. Although I will never have my old normal with Chandler back, I can acknowledge and find joy in each place of healing along the way. Each bit of progress.
Like smoothies. And work.
One day this week, I decided to have a smoothie for breakfast. So without much thought, I grabbed my frozen spinach, almond milk, chia seeds, cacao nibs, maca powder, frozen banana, and collagen protein, threw them in my VitaMix, and whirled up a tasty treat that I sipped on while working from home on my computer. Two things I was not doing this time last year – working and making smoothies. I remember marking the day, sometime in late January I think, when I scraped up the energy and motivation to perform that multi-step task of making a smoothie. It was a big deal. Now I’m making smoothies and working. Not just working, but immersing myself in my work and enjoying it.
Although I could mention several differences between now and this day last year, I can also say with certainty that today is exactly like January 9, 2019. I am still the mother of four children. And one of them is no longer here. This will be my reality every January 9 for the rest of my life. It is profoundly painful to contemplate.
I’m finally back at hot yoga after months of restriction following my foot surgery. As I took to my mat on Monday, the word that came to me was “receive.” I prayed, “God, help my heart be open to all you want to give me.”
I’m continuing to hold onto that word – receive. And also to the phrase “a new thing.” They have both come to me through scriptures from friends, from my own readings, and from a still small voice in my soul.
God, I open my hands to receive from you with gratitude. You are good, and I welcome every “new thing” you want to bring into my life this year. I know you will be with me in all of it…old and new. Amen.
