Brave



I wrote this one last summer.......never finished it.....til today.



Sometimes I start writing posts, and come back to them months later.  Today, I clicked on this one....titled Brave only to discover I hadn't written anything.  Funny.  I wonder what my motivation was on that day.  I know what it is today.

 People often tell me I am strong.  Mostly, I think they are wrong.  I can see how I might I look that way to some of you.  Make no mistake, I am not.  I am not any stronger than you.  I don't think those of us who have faced loss are any stronger than the average person living the life of Riely. When hardship, loss, illness, or tragedy enter your life, you have two choices....to quit, or to keep going forward and write a new chapter that takes your story in a new direction.  Quitting is not an option.  At least not to me with two kids to raise.  And so you think I am strong. I look strong because I keep going forward.  I just keep putting one foot in front of the other.  It is not always easy.  I am not strong.  Maybe, I am a little brave.  Brave for not quitting, and still trying.  Brave for wanting a good life for my family.  Brave to believe we can be happy.  Brave to dare to love again.

 Some days take more bravery than others.  The past few days have taken about all the bravery I have been able muster.  When you know that someone can walk out the door on a regular day to do a regular thing, and just never come back in, lots of things that seem normal require some extra bravery.  Sunday at 4 am, I put my son in a 15 passenger van and sent him 500 miles away to a camp in West Virginia.  He loves it there, it is good for him, it is probably good for me, but it is HARD, and so I must choose to be brave.  To smile.  To try not to let him see me cry, or let him know that I worry.  Camp is a normal thing, that normal people do, and so I choose to be as brave as I can, and send him.

Then on Monday, I put my daughter on a airplane by herself.  She is spending two weeks with my mom, my sister and her family.  She loves kids and is swimming and biking, and playing with her cousins.  In every picture I see of her she is positively glowing.  It is good for her, and probably for me, but it is HARD, and again, I must choose to brave.   Brave to watch a plane with my kid back away from the gate. Brave send her off so far without me.

Along with being brave, I am tired and afraid.  And tired being afraid (which is maybe another post).  Just like sadness, I can't let it take over and become who I am.  I have to make choices that are brave.  You are brave too.  Parenting is not easy and even married two parent parenting requires bravery!  Life is not easy, and we must choose to be resilient, flexible, and "just keep swimming" despite life's way of throwing unasked for change into the mix.   Are there days that feel like I will drown - yes.  Are there days it feels like the whole world is against me - yes.  Are there days I feel cheated and mad - yes, and yes (and probably still altogether too often).  I just can't choose to live there.  I must choose happy.  Choose life, and love.  Choose kind. Choose brave.   Thank you for thinking I am strong.  Thank you for admiring my strength.  I am not strong.  But maybe I am a little bit brave.

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