There are good days and there are bad days, and this is one of them. -Lawrence Welk
Kevin said he was going to do yard work today. At 4:30 am when I woke and peered out the bathroom window I thought, “ya right, it’s gonna rain”, in a sort of disappointed voice inside my head. I love when he does the yard work. The smell and sounds remind me of home, even though I am still not totally sure where home is these days. I like to watch the littles chase after him with their bubble mowers and dirty faces and we eat lunch on the porch, watching tiny-giant ants looking for lunch bits we’ve left behind. I’ve missed these days. Where we connected. We are connected now.
There are bad days. Sunday was a bad day. It will not rest well with my soul for a while I fear. Sunday turned into a Monday and then Tuesday, the longest, most painful day of the week. I made a mistake. I cried. I yelled a little and I drank a half a bottle of wine. And then it was Wednesday and I got sucked into the abyss of bad days. I won’t let that happen again. Today, I cleared my browser history. I turned my phone upside down. I promised myself I wouldn’t look. I wouldn’t respond. And I won’t. Therapist Erin told me to get a sticker to put on whatever radiates the sadness I’d fallen prey to. So that I remember to take a deep breath. I’ll walk my beautiful children to the Dollar Tree and purchase those round smiley face stickers I’d bought once before to praise the potty. I will put one on my phone. I will put one on my PC and I will remember to put one on social media. I will not cry today. I will not cry for any other reason than that I want to. Today will not be a bad day. I am promising myself there will be fewer. I will write when I want. I will likely feel afraid again and shut it all down but I will talk myself into coming back, perhaps minutes later, and maybe only after reading the ass kicking texts from girlfriends, or in this case Beckyfriends. Those will be the good bad days.
This is not a bad day though. This is a good day. Today, I whispered to a tiny soul that mama needed to breathe. I smelled his tiny sweet head and kissed his tiny ears. And mama got a shower and I got to feel the bliss of true and kind love. I got to feel his tiny breath against my neck and feel his tiny heart beat against my own. And I knew, just then, the pain of what was coming would be okay. Endurable forgettable. He walked with me and smelled lilacs, maybe for his first time and we talked to dogs and birds and butterflies with his cousins inside my hands and holding onto my heart.
This is not a bad day. I found new music, the creativity to paint and start a long put off project for someone I really like and want to make this for. I put the flannel in the wash which says my soul is ready to sew again. I opened the windows and let in the sounds. I opened emails, just in time to find an invite from someone I wanted to be friends and who might just wanna be friends with me. And my soul took a breath. And my heart said to me, “this is not a bad day”. I signed up for something new and scary and fresh. I responded to a few texts. I made a promise to have coffee. I commited to cake pops. I am finding myself inside the hurricane. Inside the rubble. I’m feeding the birds and they’re feeding me. I am finding myself above the lies.
I made an appointment to start my sleeve. Five bunnies, one little boy. A baseball, a mouse, a camera and sharp sewing scissors. Left arm. Not right. Right is for Gram. She’s been gone awhile now. I am remembering that I know all the goods as well as the bad and that it takes bravery to have chosen this path. This good day is telling me I am not the monster.
This is a good day and I am not a monster. This is a good day and I did not do anything to deserve this. This is a good day.