I have a reputation as a tough woman who takes very little crap from others and stand up for herself. I’ve been called the b word, the c word and even the n word because of it. I’ve also heard I’m strong because I’ve endured more pain than most. I’ve doubted my resilience a bit lately. But, I figure I can live up to my reputation at least for a day. So, my sweater for day 15 of my Christmas countdown says nut buster.
I’ve been more vulnerable and more emotionally raw than ever before in the last year and a half. My entire body has felt weighed down by sadness. I hit rock bottom on my late mother’s birthday.
I was sitting in the dark, crying intermittently, doing my work when the doorbell rang. The mail woman handed me a large box. I choked up when I saw the address. It was an unexpected gift from my friend Karen. It wasn’t what was inside the box that moved me. It was knowing that someone went out of their way to make me feel loved .
I sat the gift on the table and lit a candle in my favorite cookies (not a cake fan) to wish my mom a happy first heavenly birthday. I begged God for her eternal peace as I blew it out. I also asked that I be granted the ability to live a good enough life to see her again.
Just then, my next door neighbor texted me to tell me my sweater posts and forced cheer have inspired her to buy a Christmas tree to brighten up her home. She said, “Im quite sure your Mom is extremely proud of her loving daughter.” Those words made me feel a bit lighter.
I played Christmas songs as I finished my stories for work for the day. Before I knew it I was singing along, which is something my mother would do. I know mother would’ve been pleased that I didn’t fuss about her loss all day and that I didn’t completely fall apart. Perhaps, I am stronger than I even I know.
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