Last night I was at the grocery store picking up some snacks for the road and a little blonde blue eyed boy about 18 mos old caught my eye. He was just with his Daddy & I stared as much as I could without creeping out the Daddy. He was curious by me as well. It took my breathe away when they ended up in the check-out line behind me and I mouthed the words "hi baby". I'd been crying all day and all the days before that. My crying always starts out in the mornings. It's practically impossible to get my act together from about 9am-145pm. Every morning is like waking up from a nightmare. Colum. He used to wake me up with his quiet growling and then would drag his empty bottle along the railings of his crib,a little bit of gibber and then some more growling. Loud enough to wake up his sleeping pill induced Momma but quiet enough to not wake brother. I'd sneak him out of their bedroom quiet as I could all the while he'd be grinning ear to ear thrilled that he'd accomplished his mission. I cry because that little boy doesn't wake me up with his growl anymore. I wake up to the aches & pains of my slowly healing body. I miss him, I miss all of him.
There are a lot of times when I just can't escape this pain. I get trapped and there's a tug-a-war on my heart strings; one is hurting, aching, out of touch with the rest of the world, & I enjoy escaping to my very own planet of grief. While the other one is in the real world with Finn, full of energy, happiness, and where a Mommy should be at all times. Finn knows his new Mommy who cries all the time and that sometimes I'm out of touch. He knows why I'm crying, it's boring, & I'm not very fun... Luckily Ryan is able to make up for what I lack. The Taylor Swift song "Ronan" has been on repeat this week while I've packed and tears stream down my face. I assume my eyes are permanently puffy & I can't remember what they used to look like for I can't remember a day that I haven't cried. Sometimes I feel like I'm so lucky to have had the chance to love this much. My arms ache for my baby, my ears yearn to hear him, and my heart is forever broken yearning for him.
Where we live is where we were both born and raised and there's a dominant faith & we were both brought up that way. Ryan lost interest in middle school & his parents weren't as strict as mine & that's basically the way he was when I met him. My journey was a lot more complex and drawn out. Where we live not going to church is looked down upon & it's not uncommon for parents to not let their children play with 'non-members'. Around the age of middle school I secretly knew I needed to get out of here so I could freely have the option and explore what my spirituality is and what church and God meant to me. I wanted to go where nobody knew me & I could skip Church or try out another one just for fun without people judging or worrying about me. I wanted to meet new people that had different faiths and really form my own opinion of what i believed from my own point of view and not what I was taught. I always disliked going to church and there was something unnerving about one way of thinking, doing, and feeling. I dislike feeling all the pressure and expectations & maybe that's not church's fault but maybe I put too much of that on myself. I understand the big picture but something in the details; the small print at the bottom it just didn't work for me and who I was. I had little to no self esteem and lacked confidence. I think church can be good. I think church can be beautiful. I think church gives people comfort, security, and helps to heal, but I also think church can be a place where people compare themselves to others, a place of judgement, and to me that is a false representation of God. In church I learned you couldn't find joy or you would never be happy without it, you'd be lost. We needed to convert every one we could so they can be happy like us. It was of absolute importance to go to those meetings in that building with a steeple, follow those rules, feel a certain way, and you would be blessed. But the truth was I knew that deep down I wasn't happy. Finding & discovering what made me happy was a 10 year journey for me, it didnt happen overnight. I gave myself permission to be free. I understand that a lot of people will never understand & even find this quite unsettling. But all i ask is that you please try & respect the way we are because we respect the way you are. I know it's a huge embarrassment to my parents and they pray that I'll return someday & this breaks my heart. Ryan & I have lived in our house for over 10 years and still didn't know 98% our neighbors. (note: a lot of people have been so kind and reached out to us and brought us dinners & helped us out so much post-accident & we are so thankful) The ones right next door to us; they are the Bishop and his family. I will be 5 feet away from them, we make eye contact, I begin to lift my hand to wave, but stop because they almost always pretend they don't know I'm standing right there, look away and pretend they don't see me. And it's all because of the building we don't go to on Sundays. But ever since the accident they have been so kind to put our garbage out for the garbage man & we are so ever grateful, & hopefully they will start to wave ;).
To me there's something much bigger, something that makes me feel like I'm at the right place at the exact right time. Something that brings me joy & gives me a sense of
security. My Family. When I'm with them I'm at my happiest. I believe people from all
different faiths and from all walks of life can come to my church. You will be welcomed,
there's no one taking attendance, or telling you what's wrong or right. I'm happiest when I'm at my church. I know how to be a good person and I believe being good and doing good is the best religion for me. For a lot of people going to that building is the best for them, it's what makes them feel happy and helps them, gives them direction. But in the end we are all after the same thing. To learn to live happily
I've never once questioned God. I never once have gotten angry at God and asked him why? My God didn't do this, a man who made poor decisions did.
I don't believe God took Colum from us. I'm still trying to figure out what I believe about the after life but I know I do believe my God knows my heart and will love me despite what or if I go to a building with a steeple on Sundays. I still miss as much as I did in the beginning. And I know I will miss him until the day I die. But I do have 9 whole days of church to look forward to.