Updated: Nov 11, 2020
Today marks one year since my first published piece on here.
11.11.19 was the same day that I had taken a leap and put big money down to go far away on a retreat to find myself again. I had come to a place where I knew I had to at least try to live again. I was making a choice to live a full life without Scott: one with happiness, heartache, adventure, struggle, and joy. I wanted to be done just going through the motions. I knew I had to start a new story. I was choosing to live a big beautiful 2nd chapter.
Once I took the risk and made the commitment to go, things shifted in my life. Possibilities opened up. I found new opportunities and new people in my path. Because of COVID (Could you imagine a life before that?), the trip was canceled many months later. BUT I have zero regrets making the decision to go. It was that commitment, the risk, the betting on myself, that was the catalyst to break through. It opened the space where I could choose me.
And so much has happened in that one year. I teach my soulmate workout regularly, I write more, I found my voice, and I use my voice. I have authentic friendships, I am in love again, I experience new adventures, and I have the best nanny in the absolute world who helps me raise my children. Most recently, I made a dream come true with co-hosting an original podcast.
Today, I am off of work and I want to take time to reflect on the past year because I am so grateful, proud, and truly alive. Plus 11.11.20 has big meaning. Apparently it is "the most powerful manifestation day of the century." I do not want to piss that sort of day away.
But, you see....this is the bitch that grief is...she can bring a wave anytime--even in a contented and happy place. I felt the need to do something this morning that I haven't done in a long time. I started in on old emails from Scott. I want to move into the closet of pictures, letters, clothing, and artifacts that prove he was here. I want to charge up his old phone and start digging through it again. But I am stopping myself. Not because I am denying myself the healing process, but because I know it won't help. Before I know it, it will be 5:00PM: time to get Avery and I will have done nothing, but taken a dark road to no where.
So here I am writing and publishing a piece that is no where near perfect because I have to. I have to say it out loud. I have to hope that there is someone who sees my life and realizes that you can be sad AF at times even while you are in your beautiful brand new life. Grief has no timetable. It is never-ending. It morphs and changes its ways, but it never truly goes away.
In my email deep dive, I came upon something that is profoundly personal. I think I found it originally a few months after Scott's death, but in no way was I ready to share it or even think about it in any way other than to be sad and induce tears. When I listened today, it held a different meaning, especially since I have put a dream Scott and I once had into action. I KNOW he would be proud of Sarah and I. I know he is rooting for us, for our authentic and honest voices, for our refusal to quit, for our desire to stop the stigma and normalize mental illness and trauma, for the fact we might piss people off, and for our ability to make it happen even when life keeps kicking us in the face.
So I share this with you. Many people miss his voice and while this was originally meant for only me, I don’t think he would mind me sharing it. It gives you an idea of what his hopes were for our podcast together. A tiny peek into his unfulfilled dreams. I know he would have been just as candid (if not more) on our podcast for the world to hear so here you go.❤️
We saw this in Milan at the end of our Italy adventure. We both wished we had seen it sooner in the trip because it was a trip full of trials and setbacks. It then became Scott's mantra to tell me when things got hard in our life, as they often did. So I remind myself of this today.