There’s been a lull. A dissonance, of sorts. It’s bound to happen, I suppose, when you’ve experienced everything Nate and I have been through. Loss and life and people, like dominos. We push up against them, fighting to right it all. My brain scans memories like so many slides in a stuttering show, attempting to pinpoint the exact moment when I lost myself. Working mom guilt is nothing new or unusual – I’m sure many of you experience the same. My story and my family’s story are unique in their own ways, but not that different from others. We share space. It causes friction. That’s the human condition.
I can tell you the moment I felt myself start to re-emerge, though. I was on a zip line, completely alone, suspended over so much terrifying space as if looking down at the vast expanse of my responsibilities. The wind was tugging at my hair, bitter cold against my knuckles (I forgot gloves, of course) and a singular thought entered my mind.
What if I could feel this alive every day?