Intentionally in the present

There is a fine line, and I cross back and forth every day, or even hour. I live in a past with Andrea's smile, and her laugh, her galumping down the bleachers in her cowboy hat, boots, and overalls....

And then I choose the present; with my amazing boys, their wives and grandbaby Sailor. And Rob. Always Rob.

I have to remember, there was life before Andrea, and there is life after Andrea. A good, full and joyful life.

There is.

I don't want to miss one second of the present because I'm living in the past.

That's far harder than I would have ever realized.

I don't want Andrea's death to overshadow her life.

Or to overshadow the lives of those who are here, with me now.

It's more work than I could imagine.

It's a choice.

I feel a switch, a shift, miniscule, but still present. My grief muscles are strengthening. I'm becoming accustomed to the huge hole. I'm not going to fill it, but I am making room for it.

David has an equal space, and Michael; and their families.

I need to honor them in this too; not diminish who they are.

I have three absolutely amazing children- missing one so much it is excruciating, but enjoying the living presence of the older two in new ways every day.

I am so grateful for my boys.

I don't want to miss one second of the present because I'm living in the past, but I'll visit that past every once in awhile....

And then, with great intention, stand in the open with arms wide soaking in all that I've been given.