I love this day. I really do. New Year’s comes in like a bright shiny penny, full of expectations and hope. Last year drifts off into the sunset leaving me with reflection. What could I have done better? What could have been so much worse?

We are settled into our house on the 20 this year. There are a bazillion projects that need to be completed which will take a bazillion years. But I love this place that Hubs built. And I love him for building this place.

And like our house on the 20, I feel more settled.

And I shudder as I write that- I really do. Years of trauma has taught me to brace for what tragedy might be next. I state the words, “We’re okay, we’re good,” and then make a cringy face and search around as though the next tragedy is lurking in the corner.

Perhaps it is.

Perhaps this is something to work on in 2019.

There were parts of 2018 that were fraught with doubt- more so than other years. Maybe because I didn’t have a move, a sick child, or was silly sick with grief, that left room for doubt to move on in.

Ironic, huh?

I think during those doubtful times, you start to believe lies that you tell yourself; ‘I’m not good enough, I’m not smart enough, I should work harder, why are my pants so tight?’

I am letting go of my lies.

I started my lie purge in September. I am purging old lies from my thought process. This purging will continue through the new year. I am removing the words from my head.

My words create my reality. I want a really awesome, amazing reality; not a pants too tight reality.

I will turn 48 this month. When I was 20, 48 sounded old. Heck, 48 still sounds old.

It sounds old, but it doesn’t feel old.

It feels promising. I see this promise in some of my friends, friends who a venturing out with their own careers, embracing health goals, taking this notion of living a gracious life seriously.

Seriously because this is work. It takes work to dispel your lies. It takes work to not engage in drama. It takes work to live your best life and believe in your awesome, amazing reality.

What is my best life? Heck if I know but I feel like if I talk about it more, it might start to reveal itself. I might even Pinterest a vision board…..take myself on down to Michaels for a glue gun.

So that’s me today. New shiny penny. I hope you feel shiny today too.

Happy New Year.

I have just finished Girl Wash Your Face by Rachel Hollis. And I recommend. It’s an easy read, a funny book and I keep quoting her.

She talks about the lies we tell ourselves. The lies we believe and repeat to ourselves. And repeat. And repeat. And repeat.

As a grieving Mama, I thought ‘what lie do I tell myself?’

‘I should be beyond my grief.’

‘I should be beyond my grief.’

‘I should be beyond my grief.’

Truth is I am no. Heck no. Nope. No sireeee.

And when I believe my lie, my real feelings fester and my voice is subdued. Sometimes my voice is all I have and fester is such an ugly word.

This weekend, a dear friend sent me this gift; the video below with the wish that Samantha would have been in the Super Power Baby Book.

I sat in a coffee shop with non-lie alligator tears streaming down my face embracing my Christmas blend. Vulnerable, raw, honest.

Thank you dear friend for helping me live in my truth.

Watch here.

I have been looking through quotes to find the right words.

I have looked through George H.W Bush’s repertoire to state how I feel. RIP 41.

And I found the quote about broccoli. But I like broccoli.

And then as I started to write this post, Hubs put on The Who and the song The Kids are Alright came on.

The Kids are Alright. And that is it.

Miracles for Mito hosted a Christmas Party today. It was a great day! We were at the Anchor Center for Blind Children which is an amazing place. Samantha was a student there and everytime we host a party, I feel a tad nostalgic. My nephews joined us today. They ran up and gave me a hug.

“Isn’t this a cool place?” I said. “Samantha went to school here.”

“She was so lucky! She had a ball pit!” Said one of the Phews.

And that got me all teary.

But the Kids are Alright.

Today every kiddo got a present. We had amazing food compliments of Angela and Matt. Our docs talked about what we are doing here in Colorado. And really, we are doing some cool things

Here is our doc talking about current research. I love this community.

I MAY have been related to Santa and Mrs. Claus today. Jim, my stepdad stepped up to be Santa and he was amazing. Mama Judi was Mrs. Claus. We talked about being Santa last week.

“You got this,” I said to Jim. “Just be Samantha’s Santa.”

And he was. He went up to every kiddo in a wheelchair who could not come to him. He talked to them, held their hand….Missy Moo was proud.

And The Kids are Alright

It is hard to put into words……this devastating disease, this strapped community, our own  personal grief……and come out on the other side with hope, love and and overwhelming sense of gratitude.

But thats how today was. My heart is so full. You all are amazing. And if we have nothing else, I guess we have each other, and tonight? That is enough.

This Kid is Alright

Thank you. Seriously. Thank you

Lordy. Today was a good day. We hosted 24 people. The table clothes were wrinkled, the glassware didn’t match and the silver needed a good polish.

I didn’t polish the silver. In fact I only found the silver last night in a desperate attempt to find more forks. We still have some unpacking to do.

Nevertheless, two beautiful turkeys and an impressive ham made its way into our bellies along with a little grape and a lot of laughter. My grandfather at 91 and my nephew at 2 1/2 adorned the table along with the rest of us, all between the spectrum of youngest to oldest.

This is what life is isn’t? These moments around a meal; a piece of pie, breaking bread, pulling out my grandma Dodie’s china, toasting the beauty of being together.

Perhaps that is what creating a legacy is about. Tiny moments that weave into bigger stories. The comfort of being surrounded by unconditional love and mashed potatoes.

Happy Thanksgiving sweet friends.

Hey Loves! Our Mito Memories group is talking about surviving the holidays on Sunday. I thought I would post my own guide.

3 Tips….maybe more but this sounded like a good place to start.

1- This is Yours

Believe this and covet this. What I am about to tell you is a horrible truth but I think if you know this, it helps. Are you ready?

This journey is yours.

No one knows the crazy-ass painful extent of your grief. They don’t, they cannot. They may think they understand and yes, they may be in your court and want to support you but Honey, Sweet Love, this pain is yours to carry.

And I’m sorry for that.

I tell you this because your family and friends may be super supportive. They may be there for loves, and hugs and kisses and they want you to be happy. My goodness! They want nothing for you to be happy.

But sometimes in this journey, you cannot, you physically, mentally cannot be happy.

That is okay.

Protect your right to be sad.

Guard this right for yourself and for your family. I had many people ask what was wrong with Hubs and was he doing okay. I said, ‘yeah he’s alright.’ When I should have said holy schmoly no! He is not alright! He is f8cking sad! Let him be sad!

Allow yourself to be sad. If you get too sad, allow yourself to find help. Help is awesome. Truly. I love sitting with someone who will listen and nod with me for an hour.

Validation is fabulous.

2- Find your muse

My outlet is to write.

Do you sing? Paint? Build? Knit? Draw? Photograph? Clean? Cook? Find you thing and think of your Love when you do it.

I have no outlet you may say. And to that I say you do. Dig deep, find it. Cook for the homeless, downward dog your ass off, glue-gun sesame seeds to bowls, glitter the walls…..

Find a place where you can find peace in your head.

3- Think of your Love

Honor that sweet little pickle. Honor that Love in your own sacred way, make that honor yours and yours alone. For me, this space is my very own lovely, guarded scared space, it is filled with songs that bring tears to my eyes, sunrises that take my breath away, a pair of Samantha’s shoes and a stuffed lion that ride in my car.

I love and kiss them all.

What’s crazy is that when I try to explain my sacred space to others: when a song comes on that reminds me of my girl….

Lumineers…..

Lovely girl wont you stay, wont you stay, stay with me

All my life I was blind. I was blind, now I see……

Something is watered down by my explanation to others and then I almost regret bringing that person into my sacred space.

Because this is my song, for my girl.  Lovely girl

So Loves. Find your space this season. Guard it with the intimacy of your love, your pain, the complexity of the shitiness you have been dealt. Make a list of three things that will make this season successful, make that success dependent on no one else but you.

You can do this. You can honor your Love and survive the holidays. Honor who you are, honor your sadness, honor your sacred space. Nothing else matters. Scalloped potatoes can kiss my hiney.