T is for Trust

It is also for test. As in blood test. I recently had one as part of my six month oncology appointment. All is good. Whew!

Several hours after the appointment, I found myself at a party at one of my son’s classmate’s homes. The house was amazingly gorgeous!  I mean, we’re talking multi-million dollar, indoor/ outdoor living that’s the kind of warm, welcoming place I have dreamt about. As I took in the beautiful space, enjoying its vastness, I felt a sense of envy and sadness creep in. Because unless something changes dramatically (and I am completely open to that, Universe!) I will never own a home like this. Ever.

That didn’t stop me from enjoying the space. I wandered, exploring each room, imagining myself lounging in the living room or preparing a meal on the six foot marble island. But soon I’m reminded that while the host of the party may own this dream home, he’s also still grieving the loss of his wife, a woman also named Sarah, who died of breast cancer less than a year ago.

I want to weep. How was it that I survived and the other Sarah did not?

Coming home to our very small home, the sadness grew. Suddenly, my life felt very small and the sadness began to lay on me like a blanket.

I imagined a patchwork of pieces that made up this blanket, each one representing a challenge in my life. I’ve been so discouraged with my inability to find work. And I miss our older son, who has decided he will stay in Chicago after he graduates. I’m also feeling the transition to empty nester as our younger son enjoys his independence and prepares to head off to college next year. On top of that, my eating issues have been resurfacing in a seemingly bad attempt to control my life. And yep, the unavoidable issue of the world. And finally, the one year anniversary of Mom’s passing. Sigh. A heavy blanket indeed.

But a gentle whisper reminds me that blankets also create safe spaces and every patch is ripe with opportunities. In its totality, the blanket seems to be testing my ability to find balance… and trust.

It takes effort and some discipline because, honestly, it’s easy to stay covered, numb out or hide. But after I’ve had my feelings (translated- lots of tears and anger being expressed) I begin to look for the reframes.

Because as I peek out from underneath this blanket, I can see that my life is also full of blessings.

Like the walk I recently took on a beautiful mid-December day, where I felt the warmth of the sun as it touched my face, smiled as I heard all the birds singing and delighted in the beauty of the gorgeous blue sky. It struck me so deeply, I was overwhelmed with gratitude.

Or putting on a pair of jeans and enjoying  that they’re loose.

Reaching over to have my husband’s hand meet mine when we’re watching a movie that brings tears to my eyes. Or his incredibly warm, loving hugs.

Having my phone light up with our older son’s face as he FaceTime’s us. Or any time our younger son is around and wants to share his time with us.

Enjoying our backyard and our home, grateful that we,  unlike so many others, have a roof over our heads.

My dog’s cuddles.

The fact that right now, in this very minute, we have enough. In fact, we have more than enough- we have enough to give away.

And that my body is disease free and I don’t have to see my oncologist for another six months.

So sure, the blanket may be heavy. But heavy blankets have their advantages. I love their warmth and softness.  And as I snuggle up and wrap myself tight, my cozy, soft blanket can feel like the warm embrace of my Mom.

Trust. Faith. Surrender.

In the current state of the world, it’s easy to diminish my feelings. Finding the balance…yes, that’s the key. Learning to honor my experience amidst so much turmoil is tough.

There will always be people with more and always people with less. Focusing on the gifts in my own life and looking for the balance between trust, faith and pragmatism…well, that seems to be my primary opportunity these days. Because shining my light is one of the ways I contribute to the solution.

So I’ll keep peeking out from under my blanket and stepping more fully into my life. It may not be expansive and grand, but it’s mine… and it sure is filled with love.

In loving,

Sarah