Diet Coke with extra lime

By now y'all know that if you don't hear from me it's because one of two things has happened: we got really busy or I've had a really bad stretch of days.

I'm happy to report that it's the first one. But with a few stings thrown in there...

Today I was with Sean's mom and sister and when they offered to get lunch I offered to get drinks from Sonic (we were at a mall...) so I made sure I knew what they wanted.

Me: Do y'all want the usual? Diet coke for you, diet coke with..."
Leslie (sister): Diet Coke with extra lime.
Me: sting
Still me: I haven't ordered that since he died.
Poor Leslie: Do you want me to get it?
Me: No I'm fine it just snuck up on me.
Still poor Leslie: Yeah I get it. I totally get it. Happens to me too.
Me: So diet coke with extra lime it is.
Leslie: Thanks.

And so I walked up to the counter at Sonic in the middle of the mall and took a small step. I ordered a few drinks. It sounds like a tiny detail wrapped up in a fun, somewhat carefree day but it's a first.

There are hundreds of firsts-these bridges-that I've already crossed. First day back at school, at church, at bible study, at t-ball, and at our favorite places to eat. My routine hasn't changed much because of the kids so we came to lots of bridges very quickly. It was like this=tuck myself into bed when things got too sad or cross the bridge. I can pretty much guarantee that without my kids I'd have packed up and moved to Tahiti, (or a similar place I could afford to live.) I'd start writing and painting and maybe making junk to sell for a living. I'd have pushed pause in my heart and just escaped. Started a whole new life. The temptation was there even with the kids to uproot and start over but after looking at them for about three seconds I knew it would be too hard. Not emotionally, physically. I mean I'm worn smooth out every night and I have help. Uprooting isn't exactly conducive to receiving tons of help from family members, you know. ROOTS. It means where you stay put.

You're welcome.

So without the moving to Tahiti (or in my case, probably Galveston,) option I had to stick around. It was an easy, relieving decision to stay here, and every day has brought more comfort than the day before.

My roots are here. I love that I know who my kids will know. The bank teller. And the coach of Ty's t-ball team. Oh and his wife. The girl who will teach the kids how to swim. And the girl who will teach them to swim again next summer (same girl.) I love that in each school they will go to I know at least 3 teachers. And I know they have got my back. They've got my kids' backs. Or is it kid's? I need to ask my sister. Anyway.

I could've moved to Tahiti (Galveston) but I'm so glad that I am here. I'm glad now that I couldn't press the pause button on my heart. I hurt and it stings. I feared how badly it would sting. Now that I've felt it I know I was right to expect it to be brutal. But I didn't expect to be able to feel any joy. Unexpectedly I have felt happy in the middle of something silly, almost always with the kids. They say something funny and I laugh. Like, really laugh. The healing, "this is gonna be okay" kind of laughter.

It's the best medicine, so I've heard. :)