Shattered…

I look back. One year ago.

My world shattered. I shattered. But I had been so very broken for so long before that. I had been barely living.

I would NEVER thought that one year later I would be happy most days. That I would look at my body and appreciate any part of it. That I would find enjoyment out of simple things again … like watching fireflies and imagining they are fairies. That I would leave on a solo adventure and be scared and thrilled all at the same time. That … so many other things.

So I have more good moments now … today … in the present than I remember in past years. So I have bad days and moments, doubts and anxieties… we all do Get on with it. So I’m still broken. But there is glue, tape, spit… whatever it takes to slowly put these pieces together again.

Then my friend shared a piece of his story with me. About the loss of his children. The days his life was shattered. It’s very present these days. Right around the time of one of their birthdays. And he has good days. And bad days. And it is so very hard and he is still so broken from that. But he goes on.

My heart broke a bit when I heard the story. And I wanted to fix the hurt. But I couldn’t. I could just listen. Touch a leg and be present. Witness. Feel the pain coming off him and just be. For that moment I was a safe place. And that is all I could do/be.

Later in the night I pondered. How lucky I have been. I have had those safe places/people. The ones who listened to me rant, rave, cry, scream. Who could only be present. Touch. Allow me to die a little bit. How lucky I have been. One year ago … I would have said I would never be the same again. And I was right. I’m not. I’m not fixed. I’m not whole. But I’m not the same. I’m better. So how lucky is that?

I cannot put into words my empathy for my friend. Those words don’t exist. I hope I helped. Just being a momentary safe haven

I don’t compare my story to his. There is NO comparison except the fact of being shattered and trying to get on with life… a moment at a time.

Thank you my friends. Thank you for being my haven. I’m not done. I’ll still need you now and again. Hopefully less and less as the months go by. But there will never be a time when I won’t appreciate you. Be thankful for you. And … if you need … be your haven.

I love you. Thank you.