reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: life-changing


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this is that day. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

what is it they say? a blessing and a curse.

yes. remembering dates can be both. on one hand, you can suddenly recall that something absolutely splendid happened on this very date – that it was life-altering, that it was the beginning of a new journey, a divergent path in the woods. on the other hand, you can suddenly recall that something absolutely dreadful happened on this very date – and it slams into you and holds you down for a moment or two while you catch your breath, gulping air, grasping at remembering you are no longer in that very moment on that very day.

today is one of those remembering dates.

but today is the first kind.

eleven years ago today – in baggage claim of o’hare airport – in a pair of jeans, a black sweater and some boots (an outfit pondered over for days) – i stood, holding a single daisy, waiting to finally meet this person i had been communicating with for about six months every single day.

and that moment – on that day – in that place – with that outfit on – was about to change my life.

you can’t always pinpoint those moments, exactlyyy. you know that something – some set of circumstances or events combined to change you – but you don’t always know the moment when something in-real-life enters your life and nothing will ever be the same.

it wasn’t like stars exploding or fireworks. no bells rang in my head. i didn’t faint or have palpitations. i was not weak-kneed. i wasn’t wowed or wooed or walloped. i did not whoop in overwhelming wonder.

i laughed. we hugged. and we skipped. and i felt like i had come home.

the universe had somehow – in some kismet-ish sort of way – sorted through the billions of people on this good earth – and had connected me to a person who would give me equal shares of blissful moments and infuriating moments, the person who would be my favorite person, the person who would be my favorite pain-in-the-ass, the person who would make me think and feel and cry and snort, the person who would be my rock in a never-ending river complete with gentle pools of lazy and boulder-laden whitewater rapids, the person whose kiss on the top of my head nearly breaks my heart open.

this is that day. i remember it.

❤️

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

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clear as day. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

it’s a little foggy. childbirth is like that. cloudy memories.

in the stunning way of time – and how it flies – it has now been thirty years. today.

my baby boy was placed in my arms thirty years ago. it’s astonishing. i remember everything and i remember practically none of it – it is all blurry.

what i do know – just as i knew in 2020 on the thirtieth birthday of my daughter and the thing that i knew in 1990 my very first day of motherhood – is that it changed my life.

both times.

and every day since.

there is little that can color all your days, for most things are fluid and we roll with it all, hoping there is a next day – to right things, to stand back up, to move on. but motherhood doesn’t play by these rules. if you are worried about your child – regardless of their age or stage – it stays with you. it is – for me – one of the first things i think about when i wake and one of the last things i think about before sleep. it is that which will keep me pondering in the night. it is that which will find me deep in thought in the day. there is really no stopping it.

so, my sweet momma, now i get it.

all that worrying you did, all that championing, all that abiding silently by and waiting, all those pompoms – i get it.

the last time i saw my own sweet momma she was sitting on the edge of her bed, a little later in the morning than usual, still in her nightgown, going slowly, but – mostly – concerned we were not yet on the road, driving I75 and I65 and I94 back home. i don’t know if she knew that 18 days later she would be on a different plane of existence. she just worried about me…all grown up and, yet, her little girl.

i get it.

these amazing children – now both in their thirties – are still the same people about whom i have always wondered – about everything – from the tiny to the gigantic – if they need snacks, if they are healthy, if they are happy, if they are feeling valued, if their work feeds them, if they feel reciprocal love and care in their relationships. they are forging their way in the world – making a difference that only they could make – shining their own stars – with their own brilliance and their own wit and creativity and humor. life is fluid clay in their hands, fresh silly putty out of the container, playdoh with the most extraordinary cutters and fun factory presses. they are right close to the ages i was when i became their mother. in a foggy blur of time. how does that happen?

the tree seemed to be alone in the field, nothing beyond it. but because we pass that field and that tree often, we know that is not the case. it is just very, very foggy and so we cannot see.

i look back and back and back. i can’t see it all; it is foggy and very foggy and very, very foggy.

but i can feel it.

all of it.

clear as day.

*****

happy birthday, my beloved son.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY