It’s been over a year since I have written and posted.
For a long time writing was this way in which I was able to process all my thoughts. To let them leak from my fingers and organize them in a way that made sense in front of me.
In 2018, it felt like our life was swept up in a tornado. Just a constant swirling of chaos and change and uncertainty. My husband’s sister came to live with us temporarily and then over the course of a few months we realized it would be more permanent. There was so much to process with that but the reality is that it’s not entirely my story to tell. It involves a lot of people and my perception of events and choices are mine alone. As confusing as that aspect of our life has been, it felt far too tricky to try to process it through writing.
The massive change of gaining a teenager in our home was quickly overcome by a tree falling on our house. What at first seemed like it could be a tender mercy of getting our home restored and updated with the help of insurance quickly became the longest process of trying to navigate a system that is meant to make you never want to navigate it again. We lived at my mom’s, we lived in our finished basement, we finished it out in a furnished rental and all of this in happened while navigating a teenager starting high school and working on guardianship and parenting plans. It was an entire year where I looked around and sank into the stress.
Then there was a reprieve where we were back in our home (that wasn’t totally finished but livable) and I had started therapy (because I realized I didn’t have all the tools and skills I needed to process everything that was happening) and we paid off our student loans and life was still a little unsteady but there was so much goodness and I honestly just didn’t know how to begin writing again. We got about 9 months of normalcy before the pandemic hit and suddenly we were thrust back into this world of never-ending uncertainty. I found out I was pregnant the same day that schools closed in our state which has been a mix of anxiety and something to look forward to.
For a little while now I have thought about how I haven’t been writing and why I used to do it. It’s been a way to flex my creative muscles and a way to connect with others. It’s been a journal and a way look back and remember tender mercies that have carried me in present times. It’s documentation of my children and their growth and our family life.
To put it simply I miss it and I hope to document and process and think out loud in this space again. Because there are so many thoughts, and realizations, and ways I have grown that I want let flow through my fingertips.
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