Taking country swing dance lessons months ago, seemed to
give me something to do once a week to get out of my house, to stay sane, and
to have some mama time since it seemed like I was spending 24/7 with Paxton because
he was home schooled. Circumstances took me away from the routine of going. I
have gone out with friends at least a dozen times since Steve passed. I danced
once or twice here and there but didn’t really enjoy going out or didn’t think
I should. I did it to get out of the house and hang out with friends. I somehow
felt guilty going out every time and I am sure my aura portrayed that, and without
thinking it somehow made me less approachable. Shocking right because I am normally
outgoing, friendly, personable and talk a lot. Most nights while all the other
girls danced, I would sit at the table and watch. Some nights I even cried by
the end of the night, or on my way home or when I got home. I remember my
birthday being fun to start with and then crying at the table when everyone got
up and went and did their thing. I felt alone sitting there even though I was
surrounded by people. I was there but I had a stigma about allowing myself to
have a good time and really enjoy myself. I wanted to be responsible, reserved,
and respectful of my circumstances. I don’t know how to describe it, but I felt
bad wanting to have a good time, so I just couldn’t allow myself to really relax
and have fun. I have told myself every time that it was okay to go out, before
I left, that I needed to try. Why wouldn’t I deserve to have a good time?! I
remember even going out once and my friend harped on me about being reserved
and that I needed to relax and have a good time and not be so responsible over and over again- I
remember secretly being mad at her for saying such a thing- (which if you are
reading this it is something I needed to hear). I now know that she didn’t mean
I needed to be reckless or careless, which in my reserved head I was thinking,
she meant I needed to allow myself to enjoy the night have fun and not put up
so many walls and expectations and just be me.
Most times I go out and Paxton will blow up my phone. My
little protector, anxiety ridden (all of you please remember to pray for me with
love and patience) I was able to master dealing with his father’s anxiety after
so many years, but he is a whole new character to figure out. He has mixed
feelings about his mama going out not only as a single mom, but afraid
something might happen to me in the process and fearing not having any parents
is probably a top concern. Unfortunately, I cannot live in a bubble for the
rest of my life. I have reassured him several times I am not out actively
seeking a companion but just wanting to have a good time with my friends, other
adults, as I lack connection with an
adult at home, one that I had been used to for a long time. It could be so annoying to be honest, but he
is my kid, and my responsibility relies in making him #1 right now, even if it
means I put myself on the back burner most of the time. It may not be super
healthy and that is why I allow myself to go. He is getting older; I can’t believe
he will be 13 in a week! And wanting to spend more and more time with his
friends. We are not doing baseball every weekend and although my beautiful home
and all my animals keep me busy most days, I still seek some time for me that
doesn’t always involve being alone.
This weekend like most when I have gone out, I started out
by being a tad apprehensive about going. I am always quick to say yes mostly
when asked and then my mind has a way of turning around my thoughts. We really do
get inside our heads a little too much. I want to go back to the carefree
little girl running barefoot through the grass in summer, no expectations, no
doubt, no guilt, just alive and carefree! To make a long story short, I put on a short, cute
black dress, a pair of my favorite knee-high cowboy boots and went. For the
first time in a year, I allowed myself to just have fun. No walls, no fears, no
doubts, no guilt, no apprehensions. No fake smiles. I put those dance lessons
to the test and danced for 3 hours and barely sat down. When I got into the car to go home the back of my hair was seriously soaking wet, and I might be honest and tell you my knees and hips might be a little sore right now! I laughed wholeheartedly,
I could feel my smile radiate from my being, and a few friends even mentioned
it to me how they noticed and were happy that I seemed to be enjoying myself. I stayed later than I said, I was caring but firm when Paxton called
for me to come home even though he was staying with a friend, I didn't let him talk me into it and I truly
enjoyed my night. I felt a huge weight lifted from my being as if to say… it
is okay, you can do this and if someone judges you for having fun so be it…
the biggest judge of me though, is me, and that girl has got to show up a little less often.
The next day I went paddle boarding at the river with a few
girlfriends and one of their 17-year-old sons. I have been very worried about
going to the river paddle boarding, I haven’t tubed there in over 20 years and
something about the rapids and rocky areas didn’t quite make me feel safe. Yes,
I know you can sit down in those spots, but I had still been a little leery. My friends asked, I went. It was so worth it.
The herds of wild horses alone all along the river, standing in the water, drinking,
and eating the weeds, was refreshing, the scenery was breathtaking and watching
the 17-year-old cliff dive off the side of a mountain was invigorating! I don’t
think I would ever do it, but it did remind me that sometimes the risk takers
are the ones who really enjoy their life and live it to the fullest.
We spent Sunday night catching up on missing assignments,
writing rough drafts and papers, and studying for tests. It was completely
overwhelming for Paxton but I sat down and we devised a plan. He admitted to me
that getting back into the swing of school after taking almost a whole year off
the familiarity of a classroom, coupled with a new school was challenging. I wished
that he didn’t have to face these circumstances. I wished our lives could go
back to how they were prior to Steve’s death. The familiarity, the comfortability
the routine-ishness. Our lives will never be the same and therefore we can’t
expect to do the same things and get the same results. This might be a huge
pill to swallow, but now over a year later, we are doing it, we are figuring it
out together. There are no deadlines, no rule books, and no set timelines to
figure it out. We are just along for the ride, winging it somedays and trying
to create new memories as we move forward.
He was trying hard in Spanish but failing and with having to
keep up with all his other classes, we had no choice but to have him drop that
one. He is going to take a success lab, which allows him school time to concentrate
and excel more in Math. I was speaking with an old family friend yesterday who
is a fellow parent, an educator, mental health professional and therapist. He
was able to convince me that I am doing what I can, that being a 13-year-old
boy is tough enough, let alone trying to process what he has went through,
losing his dad and trying to figure out his identity without him. He said look, you are an adult,
and it took you a whole year to process and have that moment of letting go of the
guilt and harsh expectations of yourself, just think how long it takes his little
mind to process everything he is thinking and feeling. He said Dani, it is 8th grade, I’m
an educator and I am saying 8th grade doesn’t mean shit, don’t place
such high expectations on him, he will be fine, and he will move forward, let him
figure himself out.
A couple girlfriends came over for dinner and wine last
night and one of them who is also a widow (yes, I am getting a little more comfortable
with that word and not picturing a scary black spider with red dots every time
I say it) she reminded me how proud of me she was and the growth that I have
allowed to happen over the last year. She is always there when I need her, it
sucks that she had to go through this to be my guide, but I am grateful that she
had. She left me with a great thought. Just because I had a breakthrough
moment, doesn’t mean I won’t ever feel guilty, sad, or blah when I go out
again, but the simple fact that I had that breakthrough moment is a step in the
right direction for all.
Please believe that the people who belong in your life will always… always find a way to stay. Never forget that. If they’re meant for you then it will happen. And nothing in the world can change that. – r.m. drake
I am grateful for everyone who is contributing to my journey.
I woke up around 3:00 this morning with a song in my head, no tv or radio were on. I laid there singing all the lyrics in my head to this song and when I was done, although I felt like I was in a dream, I was not. I opened my eyes to the darkness of my room, Harper laying at my feet, the gentle sound of my white noise machine that Steve had to have and I have grown used to listening to over the years, with a soft stillness in my heart at the song I was singing internally without skipping a beat. I love singing, I don't have a great voice, but I don't know the last time or if I have ever sang a song word for word without singing "along" to the song playing on the radio or at church. I had no idea I knew all the words to this song by heart. It was a weird moment, but I'll embraced it. I might sound a little crazy to you all, but being vulnerable in this journey I have learned adds to the credibleness of my stories and therefore it is ok if you think that. I will own my weirdness.
So here is to growth, change, acceptance and enjoying the
journey with a little less planning, a little more risk and hopefully great
rewards.
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