Almost December 15th...

It's been a while since I sat down to write. Today, I need to.

It's December 11. Four days before December 15, a date that is hard-wired into my autonomic nervous system, no less than the beating of my heart or the blinking of my eyes. My body knows. My heart, my soul, my mind all know. It's coming.

I remember the call. "Is this Chandler Espinoza's mother?"

I'm wrecked.

Just a few minutes ago, I was scrolling through pictures to find one for a particular project. And then...there was Chandler. My sweet boy. I have never shared images of my son as he lay on the sterile while sheets, tubes and monitors protruding from his motionless body. But they are my reality. Our reality. My heart aches and throbs and breaks for my kids. They love their brother so. And they saw it. All.

We took pictures surrounding his bed on Christmas eve. We each wore a red Christmas hat of some sort. Like the Santa hat he was wearing on December 15.

I'm not sure if it will feel just like this every December. Maybe it will soften a bit. Or maybe every time I scroll through pictures, I will see. And I will be wrecked. That is the price of love.

I had to write this because I always said I would be honest, and this is me right now.

So true to form, and true to the erratic nature of grief...and even of life...there is good stuff on my mind too.

A LOT has happened in the past few weeks. One of the biggest accomplishments -- we actually finished cleaning out the garage! Be encouraged, my friend -- if there's any monumental task you're afraid to undertake for fear it is impossible, our neatly organized garage is proof positive that ANYTHING is possible! I stood in the middle of that overflowing-with-crap garage the Friday we rented the huge trash bin and thought, "There's no way." We started just one section at a time. And before you know it, we had filled up the ENTIRE trash bin! And, YES, we filled a second bin to the top! After two weeks of sorting, purging, and organizing....aaaahhhhh! It is a true source of joy to pull into the garage without fear of a boogie board or a lawn chair tipping over onto the car.

But it didn't stop there. How could it? My OCD had kicked in big time. I did a declutter of the entire house! It is the best feeling ever to know what we have and where to find it. After a declutter of the pantry, we are very clear on the fact that under no circumstances are any of us to purchase Pace Picante, garlic salt, cinnamon, or more than 30 other items placed on the "Please, no more" list. I will say, when COVID hit, my husband's tendency to, shall we say, overstock, meant we did not have a moment's panic over not having enough toilet paper or paper towels. Or tomato sauce. Or Montreal steak seasoning.

Another big accomplishment -- the workout/meditation space. I had written a while back about my son Chance moving out to his own place, leaving his room empty. I hate that. I love my rooms full of kids and activities and friends, and life. I needed to repurpose that space. Otherwise, I would glance down the hall every single day and remember how much I miss having all my kids here at the same time. And how much I miss hearing Chance play guitar in that room, write music, sing a lyric over and over until he had crafted the words just right. It was a privilege to witness his artistry, to see him grow as a musician, and more importantly as a young man of character, through the years. The memories will always be in this room where I write at this moment, but I had to bring some new life to it as well.

 With the help of my friend Teri, I painted it, and she helped me pick out furnishings and accessories for the room and the attached balcony. I even painted the walk-in closet and made it like a little meditation space. This is now my soul space. I hop on my spin bike or my Pilates reformer machine, roll out my yoga mat for down dogs and chaturangas, and perch on my cushy pillow with my flickering candles and trickling fountain for meditation, reading, and relaxation. No one is allowed to leave their stuff (aka crap) in here. It is uncluttered, clean, simple, and just wonderful.

Another new development -- my publishing deadline for First, Brush Your Teeth has been moved to later in the spring. Two reasons for this. First, I have come to realize that the blogs will be most helpful to readers if I provide some context and retrospective narration. This will take some time to work through. Second, I decided I did not want to engage with the content of those early blogs right now. It would just be too much. Thankfully, my publisher is 100% supportive of my timeline and my goal for this book. I will begin my work after the first week of January.

So the next big news --  we are getting a puppy! If all goes as expected, we are to pick up Maisy Blu, a beautiful goldendoodle, in Texas on December 29. We have all fallen in love with her already. Oh, there will be pictures to come, believe me. For the first time in 19 years, there is no four-legged, tail-wagging creature greeting us at the door. We are ready for Maisy Blu to join us.

Before I sign off, I have to say that my heart goes out to everyone who is suffering with COVID or any COVID-related situation, including the fear that so many are gripped with in the midst of this pandemic. And my heart goes out to everyone who is suffering because of non-COVID-related conditions and circumstances. Suffering is suffering. One form doesn't matter more or less than the other.

My prayer, and I do not mean this flippantly or glibly, is that in this Christmas season, the reality of God WITH us will bring comfort, even in the midst of suffering. Most often, that comfort comes in the shape of people. May we be Jesus with skin on right now.