Losing and Finding My Inner Child

Two months after my mother's passing, I'm still in heavy processing.  It's really REALLY strange to lose a parent.  The people who moved closer to me during this time have been people who have lost a parent or someone close to them.  I have felt them lean in toward me as I swim in grief.  It feels really good to not feel alone or abandoned and feel like loved ones are carrying me a little.  A man bearing his testimony in church described what we do for each other as drafting like in cycling.  We each have our moments in life where we can step in, take the lead with the headwind and let others just draft behind us.  I like being able to do this for others, but it's just my season to draft.   I am grateful to be pulled along for now and am eager to accept emotional support during my season of resilience-building.

I'm pretty sure I have changed a bit after my mother's passing.  It's like I stepped more fully into adulthood - at age 40.  I've done some remarkable things in my adult life, but there was always a part of my mother who could not see me older than eight years old, I'm fairly certain.  So my eight-year old approval-seeking, whiny self, with little credibility as an adult no longer has a place at the table now that my mother is gone.  It's really interesting, but there is a part of me that left with my mother.  Some of my inner child.

I've evaluated this and panicked a little thinking, Wait...can I still be FUN?!? I've always been a fun girl.  Okay, maybe there were a few years inside my marriage where I wasn't so fun, but darn it, I think most people who have known me throughout my life would describe me as fun in a childish playful way. Where did that girl go?  

A friend came for a visit the other evening and to lighten up a heavy conversation, I dragged him on the trampoline.  We jumped and laughed, jumped and laughed until my face hurt.  I think I found her, sulking on the trampoline wondering if she can come back to the table.

Ciao!