Trying to come up with the best way to describe the year
2014 has been very challenging. Easily,
I can just recap the big moments. But
those moments are not exactly what have defined the year. The emotional impact and evolution that has
stemmed from those moments are what has defined a year for me. Typically, I ponder the year and evaluate any
lessons that have been taught, ignored, need review, etc. This year has left me in a total
quandary. There haven’t been any
specific lessons learned this year. There have been some severe revelations. I’m not sure I would count those revelations
as lessons per se.
The year began with pending doom. I knew the second we crossed into 2014 that
this was going to be a rough year. I was
driving back and forth to Phoenix. I
wasn’t exactly sure how things were going to be from one second to the
next. Having the level of intuition that
I have, I was certain things weren’t going to be positive with each trip to
Phoenix. But there was still a roller
coaster of mayhem with each trip. The
end of January had my father and my two youngest siblings moving into my house
in Sierra Vista, preparing for dad’s death.
March 11, 2014, he died.
All but one sibling had relocated to Sierra Vista to help us all pick up
pieces and figure out what shape our family was going to take. Family and friends flooded our world with
love and support to a level that I had never seen before. For the first time in my entire life, I felt
like things were going to be ok. If I
needed to fall apart, despite every effort to avoid falling apart, I knew that
I could because of the massive amount of help we had. Silver lining.
May 17, 2014, I welcomed a son earlier than expected by
nearly 8 weeks. Because of that
intuition I have, I saved his life. I
cried as I listened to the doctor tell me he was doing an emergency C-section
ASAP. I didn’t cry because I thought my
son wouldn’t make it. I cried because
there were two people absent from a situation I desperately wanted there. I knew Ben would be ok. I just didn’t have a single shred of doubt
that whatever power is greater than me, would think I could handle mourning
another child. On the heels of my
father’s death, there was no way one person could be that unlucky. It was very difficult to survive the NICU
that I lost Connor in. The word surreal
doesn’t even come close to describing the emotional hell that was.
August 1, 2014, I moved out of the house I’d lived in for 9
years. Almost exactly nine years. I couldn’t box things fast enough to close
the door on a life that no longer existed.
The house I’m living in now brings me such joy, that it has often
brought me to tears of joy just waking up to these walls. It’s such a bittersweet reality that I’m
living in these days, but starting each day to the life I’m building inside
this house has validity and purpose and it makes things that much more sweet.
September 3, 2014, I officially became Ms. Emma Mayne. This particular subject is difficult for me
to write about. This is the preverbal dirty
laundry that I loathe people airing out for all to see. There’s anonymity in writing online about
this part, but this town is small. The
rumors and opinions are already thick and obnoxious. The long and short of this subject, is if
you’re close enough of a friend to me, you know about this stuff. It hasn’t been the worst thing on paper. But this has been emotional havoc. I didn’t think I could cry as hard as I
have. I still cry. Days are getting better, but it’s a progress
I’m still navigating. I’m doing my best
not to wallow, but it’s rough. At some
point this will be a time I think about and find the silver lining. Right now, it’s a torrential downpour of
bipolar fits.
2014 taught me just how deeply I fight for things I
love. Kicking and screaming I denied
things to myself that once I finally listened to the truth, it had me on the
floor. Literally. But, I stood up from that breakthrough, hell
bent and determined to fight for a person I haven’t fought for enough. Myself.
I’m still recovering from just how much I’ve let myself down. There are years of behaviors I’m working on
correcting. There are habits I’ve made
that are going to take a while to break and stick to. It’s a daily effort. But, I’m fully understanding of what I will
end up feeling like, should I revert to the person I was in regards to being a
doormat.
Despite so much hardship this past year, I’ve absolutely
been able to recognize major beauties that have come from it all. My sisters and I are closer than we have ever
been. A bond was mended between my
brother and I. Through the discovery of
our new family dynamic, I’ve made best friends out of my sisters. My entire family has come through the deaths
of our parents, whole. I know my mom and
dad are proud of us. In each our own
way, we have become people that are more capable and more determined to be
successful. We are all doing amazing
things and I’m beside myself with pride when I look at each of us seven and see
that not one of us is slipping. We are
all vicious fighters.
The relationship I have with my children has been
transitional. Having a teenage daughter
has been a test of love and understanding.
Even if there are those who believe I’m not as good of a mother as they
believe I should be, I look myself in the mirror each day and know that I’m not
only doing my best, I am a good mother.
It will be very evident in the coming years, as my daughter becomes the
woman she is going to be. I am seeing
pieces of me in her all the time. I am
extremely proud of her. She’s flawed,
but I wouldn’t have her any other way.
There is proof in her character of her rearing.
I am dating. That’s
beyond weird. But, holy shit. I’m not an easy person to impress. There is discovery in each new interaction as
to how little I’m willing to permit.
Needless to say, I’ve been on mostly first dates. Which is just fine. I’m enjoying being social and doing some things
for me a little more than I have in a very long time. For example, getting back to the music.
As I write this, I’m listening to music that inspires me to
improve and make goals. I was able to
play a little bit in Tucson and that was amazing. Getting back on stage is instrumental in my
emotional well-being. I’m singing more
at home at the top of my lungs. I’m
emoting through the speakers.
I’m writing a lot.
Publishing WILL happen this coming year.
I read a lot. I am figuring out
ways to get my passions realized. Though
music is a pretty solid definition as to what makes me, tic…words are actually
the core of who I am. There is nothing
sexier than a meticulously crafted phrase that strikes a chord that rings
through to my toes. I’m shaping some
well-written words daily. I will share
them as soon as possible. For
purchase! LOL
The year really kicked my ass. I’m sore.
I ache. Like every good workout,
the harder the burn the stronger the core.
I worry sometimes about callouses I’m building. My baby boy Ben softens me almost every
second of the day. Alex keeps me on my
toes and draws out the tenderness I’m built to show. Isabelle forces me indirectly to pay
attention to the errors I make. Things
are still tough and in a state of rebuild.
But the foundation that 2014 poured makes me feel confident that once
construction is finished, threads of silver will be throughout the most
intricate designs of a life I have made.
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