One. I am a mother and wife.
I have 3 children. One kind and intelligent 12 year old step-son. One brilliantly hilarious 3 year old son. And one sweet daughter, my angel baby, who is watching over us all. I love being a mother more than I ever knew I could and I am thankful every day for my little ducklings and their wonderful father, who is my best friend and my soul mate. He is the Cheese to my Mac.
Two. I knit.
This is a gross understatement. It may be more appropriate to say that I knit as though the needles are what keeps me on this plane of existence, and so releasing them would most certainly cause me to spiral out of control into the vast blackness of space. …but yeah, I knit.
Three. I hide.
I have a bit of a hard candy shell, so to say. I am stubbornly independent. I detest vulnerability. This description of myself may sound like a stark contrast to that of someone who blogs, particularly someone who writes about grief, but the key is that, with blogging, I retain control. True vulnerability comes when you relenquish it. My control is a wall that I hide behind, and it’s something that I’m working on taking down.
Four. I write.
You know that already, clearly. Writing, like knitting, keeps me grounded. When I am writing, I am able to observe my thoughts and emotions, as opposed to just feeling them. Seeing myself in this way allows me to contemplate, process and accept my experiences and the resulting emotions more completely. In a nutshell, writing is therapy.
Five. I hope.
I am relentlessly positive. Sure, I have my days, but they are fleeting, and I am usually quick to find my way back to the silver linings in life. I have hope, for all sorts of things. The world. My family. What comes next. Hope is what drives me forward. Hope is what moves my hands as I care for my family. Hope is what opens my eyes each morning after losing Clara.
I will always hope.