It’s nice to meet you. I’ve felt you coming, noticing changes stirring inside of me. Now that you’re here, though, I’m left wondering how your friend 2011 just vanished. I’m left with these glimpses through words + photos + fuzzy memories of the good stuff of 2011. Although, I can’t say I’ll miss the whole of 2011 any more than I’ve missed 2010, 2009, and 2008.
I’ve realized sometimes years can be tough. There are tough patches in life, difficult times, moments that become months, turning into years, where we simply survive. We get through. We march on. We make the best of it. These times can drain us of energy and charisma and sometimes, they even alter our personalities, sucking away the very traits that define us.
For me, this tough patch began with the adoption of our daughters in March 2008. They are precious children and I am forever grateful that they found their way home, even if it was after they started life. I learned long ago I can’t control the way a family is made. I’ve never once questioned whether Hannah and Stephanie were made for our family. It is evident they are. I have questioned whether I was a good enough mom for them. The years piled up, forcing me to bend and twist and sacrifice.
I was beginning to worry that perhaps the way becoming Hannah and Stephanie’s mom would forever change me was by permanently losing some of my favorite traits that make me who I am. I tried to console myself — people change, it’s okay. But still, where did that carefree, creative, happy-go-lucky, ready to tackle the next challenge, race to the top of the next hill, spread her arms and spin girl go? I miss her.
You know that girl, don’t you 2012? Your friends, the previous years, they didn’t bring fresh starts with them. I like you better already, because not only have you brought a fresh start, you’ve also brought pieces of me back. Amazingly, I’m finding they still fit, even though I’ve been twisted around, becoming the mother I was commissioned to be.
I just met you, 2012, but I already know you are going to heal me from the years of refining, adjusting, and accepting. You are the friend who kneads the past with the present, shaping me into the person I am called to be.
Thank you isn’t enough,