We all have good days and bad days.
It’s been very challenging for me to take time to look for the good in the last year.
If it’s not jumping out at me I tend to take good things for granted.
Some days I woke up with a heart filled with gratitude because I knew that I would see my son Billy again someday.
It was a supernatural peace that passes understanding that I didn’t have to try to obtain. It overtook me.
Other days it took every ounce of strength to put my feet on the floor and keep going for my family. Where was that peace? I couldn’t seem to connect with it, but I got through everyday.
Some nights I was awakened by my husband Matt because I was crying and sobbing in my sleep.
Some mornings I would wake up and I could tell that I had been crying in my sleep but they must have been silent tears.
Some nights I couldn’t sleep. I would toss and turn and fight the images in my head.
Every morning I have gotten out of bed.
Most mornings are spent getting my children and grandson out the door for school.
Robbie and Virginia are 16 and 15 respectively.
They wake up on their own most of time, but some days they need a nudge from Mom to wake them up and get them going.
I still make Robbie scrambled eggs and waffles for breakfast every day.
We all have a routine and these days there is very little rushing them out the door.
My 6 year old grandson Logan is another story!
I have found that he needs almost a whole hour to wake up, eat, dilly dally, and get ready to get to the bottom of the driveway to wait for the bus.
Some days it runs like clock work. Other days, not so much.
Yesterday, not so much!
I had just repeated myself for the 18th time that Phyllis, the morning bus driver, is on her way and she is not going to wait for you!
That goes in one ear and out the other when he is focused on something other than my words!
We finally make it out the door, to the garage and in my Jeep.
While we are backing out, the bus is coming down the road.
My heart is racing as we are trying to beat the clock, and the bus!
In that moment Logan in his sweet voice and demeanor looks at my gear shift and says “P means Park, R means Reverse, N means Neutral and D means Drive. When are you going to put it in neutral Nana?”
“First of all,” I replied, “where did you learn what the letters on my gear shift mean?”
His normal response, ” I don’t know, I just know it.”
His remark, when are you going to put it in neutral, stuck with me.
I know he was talking about the gear shift but I’ve learned to listen beyond what he says to the deeper meaning that is sometimes meant for my heart.
Am I able to “put it in neutral?”
The purpose of neutral in an automatic transmission is for towing or pushing a vehicle.
Maybe I need the help of family and friends to tow me around more than I’d like to admit when I feel broken down. When I don’t know how to keep going. When I crash.
I realize it is very hard for people to know what to do. How to help, or even be encouraging.
Please don’t stop trying.
The loss of a child is unimaginable.
A Mother’s worst nightmare.
Murder adds additional layers of grief and stuff.
It isn’t over for ANY Mother once the funeral is over and your child is buried, but when you’re dealing with murder, you’re dealing with preliminary hearings,and most likely a trial over a year or more after your child has died.
I probably need to put it in neutral much more than I realize.
I also know that I can’t be in drive all the time. Go go go. Never stopping. Going in all directions to make sure I get it all done, whatever “it” is.
Of course I can’t always stay in park as much as I’d like to somedays. Just park it and stop.
Although I do realize how important it is to rest and take breaks so I can get back up and do what I need to do.
Reverse will never work because I don’t want to go backwards. I’ve come too far in life to live in the past.
There are wonderful memories there but I have to focus on heading towards the future.
So when am I going to put it in neutral?
I’ll continue to ponder that question.
Hopefully sooner than later.