The emails come sometimes. People looking for help. People thanking me for sharing my journey. People just saying, “I’ve lost someone like you. How am I going to survive? You seem like you’re doing it with such grace. How are you doing that?”
I have to be clear about this. I don’t have it all together. I don’t even know what that means. I fight with my husband. I have a dirty house. My heart does not always feel good.
Recently, I spent too much money on a blouse and pair of shoes for my sister-in-law’s high tea shower that I was co-hosting. I spent money I had no business spending. I justified it to myself. I can always justify those moments of which there have been too many to count in my life.
‘Craig’s mom is going to be there. She intimidates me. I have to look good,’ I told myself.
‘Craig’s ex-girlfriend is going to be there. She intimidates me with the way that she still travels with his friends and is deeply involved in the heart of his circle of friends and family. She’s beautiful and thin and I have to look good around her,’ I continued.
And so I swiped it, my debit card, eating away at my hard earned yoga money, much of which is spoken for by other endeavors, not debt but endeavors.
In the end, I looked good. I felt good. It had been a long time since I’d worn an outfit not made of spandex and felt like a million bucks. I wore a flow-y-pink-coral silk blouse with white hearts on it, royal blue, fitted slacks and nude sandals with a small heel which boasted a tiny zipper. I received lots of compliments. I could tell Craig’s mom was pleased with my appearance. Score.
Later, the guilt set in. I had called my dad and asked if he would split the purchase with me before deciding on which blouse to get. He had chuckled and said yes, but I knew he wasn’t into it. Along with the guilt came a deep longing for my mom. She would have purchased the whole outfit. Without batting an eyelash. Then she would have gone on and on about how great I looked. She would have taken pictures. She would have ladled me with compliments. Somehow, she would have made me feel even better.
It seems so silly to me that it is in these moments when I miss her the most. I feel so superficial. But it is. It’s these moments, the ordinary life moments that pass you by without so much as a second thought when everyone is healthy. It’s these silly, regular, mundane things that become the truth of life.
And so, I continue my journey. I continue my quest to understand how to make my heart feel better, all the time. It’s work. It’s not easy. It means choosing to read the spiritual development book over the memoir. It means carving out the time to practice, to make extremely healthy meals, to meditate.
I don’t always succeed. But I do keep trying. In the end, I believe that is all we can do. Just keep trying. And if you need me, just email me through this site. I’ll share with you everything I’ve tried that’s helped. We’re all in this together.