The Dance

I have been navigating a minefield carefully orchestrated dance. It's called grief during the holidays. If I had to put music to it then it would have to be Valse Triste by Sibelius. In this dance, I have 2 dresses. One is colorful and bright. The other is a muted gray like the puffy clouds on a rainy day.

I pirouette and leap, softly walking, hands outstretched. I search and sway. Moving carefully to not tip toe on the eggshells that look like a broken map thrown across the floor. As the music lifts and the notes heighten, my colorful skirt is seen and my twirling makes everything bright. But then I step on a shell and have to stop. Which brings the gray dress back into place.

Battling depression has not been easy. Juggling school and a tough schedule this term has been far from relaxing. Add to that the blog, trying to get a business off the ground and the possibility of rekindled love and what you have here is at least 3 Samsonites full to the brim.

And yet, here are the holidays. Mami's favorite time of the year. It brings a seesaw of emotion that is almost inexplicable. Happy about the season, heart full of joy one minute and heavy heart the next.

I am grateful for it all, though. One Thousand Gifts taught me about hard eucharisteo. The thanking during hard times. The joy during grief. Yesterday I posted this status:

Joyful and deflated all at once. #grief

That's the best way I can describe it. I'm raw with emotion. And exhausted with the teeter totter of grief and joy. Thankful for all that I have. Praying for others because I do realize how blessed I am. Crying out with an ache that only the loss of a mother can bring. And all at once turning to my daughter and holding her hand while we dance and sing.

I was given a big GIFT last night. Looking through my phone I found videos that had been transferred over from Evangeline (the Evo). As I was going through the list, I found a video of mami talking to the frog princess. And I can almost remember that night.

Where had I gone? Where had I been? The frog princess was in bed with her and mami was talking for the baby. About how she was going to go home and not read tonight (mami loved the fact that we read every night). That she was too tired and would just be taking a bath and watching tv. That maybe the dog could read tonight instead. Just simple every day things. And wow. How full of joy was my heart when I saw this? When I heard this? Less than a month from this video we'd be given the diagnosis. But that night, it was just my baby girl talking back to her namesake.

And I am joyful and deflated. Dancing with joy and sorrow. And grateful for it all.


I'm grateful that I can share this as part of Shell's Pour Your Heart Out.