Thank you Ashley.
I have begun my new life. It includes a whole lot of healing. It includes health of various kinds. Food. Sleep. Discussion. Fresh air. Exercise. Friends. Good books and good blogs and seeking knowledge and various paths. It includes many moments of quiet thought. It includes being present when I’m with you or you or you or me.
My new life. It has hope. It has sadness. It has laughter, much more than yesterday had. It has feel. It holds lots and lots of possibility.
My prince. When the sadness and fear descended, he held me. When the fear overtook me, he held me tight and told me thousands of times, “It will be ok.” Those were powerful words. In the depths of darkness those words kept me alive. I was dying. I was awash with fear. I was, literally, unable to function without a steady dose of those words throughout the day. I had to hear them spoken. I had to be told over and over again. He didn’t hesitate. He repeated those words to me for months. They didn’t need to change. They were what I needed to hear. Sometimes, if a few minutes had gone without the strength of those words, I would have to say, “Please say it.” He smiled warmly each time. Looked at me lovingly, and said, “It will be ok.”
My children were there to tell me the words too, but they thought it was a bit silly to have to remind me of something so simple so often. Understandable. I didn’t want to be annoying, nor did I want to bring up the topic if they were free of it for a moment.
But my prince didn’t waiver. He stood by me through every excruciating moment of our summer of dark. Summer of fear. Summer of hell. In the beginning it looked to be a huge monster, so we tried to set our minds straight. “We will not let this define our summer,” he said to me at the beginning of June. But it did. It very much did.
And now, I do think it will be ok. I can say it on my own now. I have grown. I have become more brave, and I feel safe in the arms of my knight and my bad-ass lawyer! 🙂
Thank you Ashley. Thank you for holding me. Thank you for the patience and endless support you offer in all of the darkness. Thank you for seeing a day that it will all be in the rear-view mirror.
And thank you for supporting my new life. Thank you for your belief in me. Thank you for trusting my uncertain path. Thank you for encouraging me to spend time healing and breathing and writing. It is good to feel hope again. It is good to have room to breathe. It is good to see the darkness in the rear view.
We’re not through it yet. There is much to come. Attorney fees. Court dates. Strategy. Rebuilding. But through it all, from day one, we remain a team. For that, I am beyond grateful…and so very fortunate.