It seems that the content on the blog still takes a turn toward writing about my life journey more than sharing home decor. Instagram is simply way easier to post short snippets and one or two home pictures  ( follow me here AND there). A blog post takes time to write as well. I want to be authentic, in both my writing and in my home posts, so I suppose I shall allow it to develop organically- each will be what each will be. I vow to not pressure myself either way- if it is not enjoyable or beneficial them I’m not going do it.

I am sill home from work- it is seriously driving me crazy. I have a second drain to attempt to get the hematoma to go away. Tomorrow I have a CT scan to see where we are. I just need this to be over so I can feel better and get back to work and life.  But oh how stir crazy I’ve been; I finally got the Christmas decorations down with the help of Josh and Laura. What a  relief!  Then the house was bare- I moved a chair from the blue room to the family room.  Which left a hole in the blue room, so I moved the desk from my bedroom to the blue room.   And then I moved my bedroom around…I could see how dirty everything really was so I’ve been slowly cleaning and puttering and busying myself. Which brings me to the point of this post. In one of my early blog posts I wrote about rearranging my bedroom and creating the above space. Yesterday and today I took it down. It caused me to ponder so many things. Sonny and I shared this room for many years. It was OUR space and when he died it was not where I really wanted to be. He had a hospital bed in here. He died in here. It holds too many memories both good and terribly sad. I didn’t sleep well for months and it helped me to move everything around to make it at least feel somehow different. I bought new bed linen. I put the bed a way that it had never been. I made it my private sanctuary and I created this little space, with art work done by myself, others and sweet words written by my daughter to remind me how to press on. I added to it here and there but mostly- I just looked at these words and kept them close to my heart.

I moved the bed back into the place it was the day Sonny died. As I sat on it I had a rush of memories. Seeing my kids sitting on my bed that night, their faces and tears carved into my mind’s eye. Memories of being abruptly woken when he became ill. Snapshots of time. Ghosts floating around everywhere.

In that early post (here) I wrote about fear. Fear of the future, fear of the unknown. Fear of making decisions. Fear, fear, fear. I had a lifetime of fear and in that post I spoke it aloud for the first time and said that I was so ready to not be afraid any longer.

How many nights had I laid in my bed and fixed my eyes on these words?  I wrote blog posts about the words on my wall here and here and here. They have been my comfort and encouragement, my cheerleaders and when I didn’t know what to do- they told me. Bloom! Have courage! You are a wildflower! Be brave! Just be still. Love will heal a broken heart.  NEVER stop dreaming!

As I took them down, I handled each with love. These precious words which have carried me for the last 2.9 years..and I knew they had done their jobs. Grief is not over but the horrible pain is gone. I can breathe. I am making decisions. I am learning to face my fears. I have hope and am learning everyday to open my heart, mind and life to the dreams that God has placed within me. I have leaned that being a dreamer is a good thing! I knew that it was time and OK to take it down. There is no set amount of time to grieve, and I will ALWAYS have grief as my companion, it is the price of love. But it is ok to change it up- to allow new words and adventures to propel me forward. To move one more step forward to seeing dreams and goals come to fruition. The post where I shared my desk was titled ‘Dreams’- and it has come full circle. How apt… I still am not sure what my future holds. But the paralyzing fear is losing its hateful grip and the words on my wall have become part of my very being.

Much Love,

Theresa