I'm Still Here

I haven’t blogged in two weeks. I woke up yesterday morning and realized it. The past two weeks have been a complete blur. So I’ve been making excuses for myself in my head. Here are some of my reasons, in no particular order, for not blogging. In the past fourteen days:

I had 4 photo shoots (now, that doesn’t sound like much. You have to work in all the editing. Which adds an average of 4-5 hours per shoot).

I rode from Virginia to Florida with my brothers and sister. We somehow managed to turn a 12 hour drive into 15. But we loved (almost) every minute of it.

I ate at the Mellow Mushroom in Savannah, GA.

I walked around Savannah with my family for two hours, looking at the architecture, studying the historical signs, taking pictures of the Spanish moss. It was wonderful.

I hugged my Mama for the first time since July.

I ate my stepdad’s spaghetti and my mom’s chicken and dumplings. Both in the same setting. That’s right. And I’d do it again.

I shared a living room with my four brothers and my sister.

I hunted down anthills with my brother Nathan.

I fed about a hundred turtles.

I TRIED to toast my grandpa with his drink of choice, a Rusty Nail. But I either don’t have enough of the Scot-Irish blood in me, or he had really bad taste in drinks. Sorry, Grandpa. You know I can honor you in other ways, and without gagging.

I kissed my Grandpa for the first time since June, and for the last time on this earth.

I watched my frail, slight-shouldered Grandma stand beside a casket and tell her husband goodbye.

I read a poem at my Grandpa’s funeral.

I heard twenty one guns go off in his honor, and felt unspeakable pride, respect, solemnity, and grief.

I watched a 6’6” Army CO bow to honor my 4’11” grandmother as he handed her a folded up flag and thanked her for her husband’s service to our country.

I saw my brothers, cousins, and stepdad bear my grandfather's casket.

I met cousins that I’d never seen in my life before.

I rode from Florida to Virginia.  We somehow, again, managed to turn a 12 hour drive into 16. This time we loved a bit less than every minute of it.

I listened to these three albums. A lot.

I made gingerbread houses with my kids.

I went to see Phineas and Ferb Live with Ashton and Chloe.

I went to court and paid for a speeding ticket.

I went to three Christmas parties.

I cleaned 8 houses, and a school twice.

I made, with my friend Missy, about 30 ornaments.

I (FINALLY!!!) started potty training Atleigh.

I went to a Christmas program at my kids’ school, and heard Ashton (attempt to) play violin, and watched Chloe be the most perfect kindergarten Mary in the history of school plays.

I cried. A lot. A lot a lot. Quiet, staring at the ceiling crying, chest shaking, soul tearing crying, crying in the shower, crying in the car, crying listening to the radio, crying watching TV. Headache inducing crying, sleep inducing crying, wordless wailing crying. I’ve cried it all.

I felt grief, joy, anger, aching sadness, bewilderment, awe... and underneath it all a constant current of weariness and being overwhelmed.

And I’ve survived it all. I’m still here. Tired, yes. Emotional, yes. But still here.

So, thanks for waiting.