The In-Between

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I spent most of the day in the library earlier this week diving into a new course dedicated to rest and softly holding the liminal space within sacred transition. This is a year for my heart to honor endings and new beginnings, and I am ready. I also realize I cannot do this alone as these in-between spaces are massive.

Between the in-between the other day I hugged and chatted with my kiddo between her classes and then my man and I got out for a sunset hike in the chill with our pup (that in-between of the light and dark of day at dawn and dusk has always been my favorite light).

In these small moments that feel so special and big in the moment, I realize how much I appreciate the in-between. No matter who we are or where we are, we are constantly in these in-between spaces. It is not always as comfortable, yet all are absolutely necessary for proper transition from one chapter to another.

Until next time I offer these words of wisdom for better or for worse. Please take them with a grain of salt for we each live our own individual truths. Our mission while we are here is to understand, accept, and celebrate that one very simple, but incredibly significant fact. For all this, I am grateful.

Active Labor

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Almost a full month out now from my dad’s passing and I am beginning to rise with fresh eyes and renewed heart. I have seen how his beautiful and effortless transition has freed him from his great suffering and me from his care. Becoming a spontaneous caregiver and logistics holder for my dad six years ago has changed me forever. There have been many blessings, and I also realize the life-altering events that have taken place. I am beginning to deeply grieve the life I was creating at that time. These past six years have not allowed me to pay much attention to anything other than what is directly in front of me each day with Dad's needs and the immediate needs of our family.

It did not take long for me to recognize these years have felt deeply akin to my active labor process when my daughter was emerging from my amazing body 22 years ago. Six years of active labor with Dad’s release have gifted me the moment that, upon his passing, I sat back in full awe and utter amazement. I held Dad through the morning and then through the moment of his transition. Once words could be found, I shared with Dad’s beautiful hospice nurse that I felt like I had just witnessed a baby being born… it was nothing short of miraculous. This feeling of amazement was so very similar to the miraculous moment I held my daughter in my arms for the first time.

I recognize the gift of seeing this world washed anew and what life means to me now. I am raw, vulnerable, exhausted, grieving the life I thought I would embody, and I am hopeful. I am celebrating the love and the friendship my dad and I still share even though he is no longer embodied. I am grateful for having an amazing support network holding me tightly even now. I am holding all of this so tenderly and with immense presence and care.

My husband said to me upon Dad’s passing, “You have been running a marathon every day for six years. It is now time for you to rest.” And so, I shall. I will rest. I will grieve. I will also rebuild with a completely new foundation of what I am understanding now to be aligned with my path and calling as I embrace this second half of my life.

Until next time I offer these words of wisdom for better or for worse. Please take them with a grain of salt for we each live our own individual truths. Our mission while we are here is to understand, accept, and celebrate that one very simple, but incredibly significant fact. For all this, I am grateful.