Can I tell you a story about how I’m still growing and using the tools even after 20 years?
Feeling the tears welling up in my eyes, I had a choice. I could stuff them down, ignoring what they were telling me, and power through like I had so many times before. Or I could accept that even after 20 years I found myself triggered in a public and inconvenient moment.
I remember just how deep your heartbreak and anguish feels right now. I know that every day you replay the minutes and hours after getting the call that our precious daughter stopped breathing at pre-school, and the day she breathed her last breath in our arms three months later. Those memories will always remain in my heart.
Walking into the master bathroom of my newly purchased home, I felt a little out of sorts. It wasn’t because anything was wrong, but because it was good. It’d been a fun evening. I had good friends and a good career in addition to the new home.
I spotted my jewelry box laid overturned with the lid closed on the floor. Picking it up I saw one solitary item had somehow “fallen out” – the tiny hands pin someone had given me when I was pregnant with Alison. I teared up saying, “thank you sweet pea! I love you.” It was the sign and connection with her I needed.
Storytelling is a time tested way humans connect with one another. Telling stories and listening to them has been an important part of the human experience for thousands of years. Unfortunately, for those of us in the Grieving Parents Club, we often find it especially hard to tell our stories.
I don’t know about you, but I have a tendency to get lazy with life, making unconscious choices. It’s easy to slip from one day to the next. I get tired or bored so a Saturday winds up full of binging on popcorn and Netflix instead of getting on the water taking in the elementsContinue reading “The Power of Intention”