August 14, 2014 in Lymphoma by Reta Reed

The kids, Mom and I had a wonderful vacation last week in Gulf Shores. We played on the beach, ventured farther into the ocean than I can remember ever going myself in all my life (I was always too afraid SOMETHING would TOUCH me! Heaven forbid!), buried the girls in the sand, marveled at seashells, played with tiny crabs in the night. We got our hearts pumping with ziplining and parasailing. We checked out their modest zoo and had hands-on experiences with a snake, an alligator, and kangaroos. We shopped. We ate. We laughed. We swept and brushed sand off of everything, multiple times, and visited the beach again to track in more sand. The condo on the beach was perfect. Waking up and going to the balcony to sit and watch early-morning beach-goers fish, run, walk, play, was so relaxing. I’m definitely a beach kinda gal. And I LOVE that I didn’t see a single mosquito!

It has only taken about three days to get back in the groove of work and home life. I’ll tell you, walking into my cluttered home after being in the uncluttered condo triggered a bit of anxiety. Oh, I need to… clean that… put that away… fix that… finish that… look at the size of the grasshopper the cats left us! Don’t worry. I calmed down and decided to do none of that, except dispose of the grasshopper. I try not to put too much pressure on myself anymore. If I can live with a little mess and it’s not important, then why not? If it really bothers me, I’ll do something about it, but until then, I tell myself (sometimes out loud) IT’S OKAY. Priorities, y’know?

I stumbled upon a beautiful soul, a blogger named Glennon Doyle Melton (http://momastery.com/blog/). Her blog is chock-full of painful, yet inspiring essays of her own and other bloggers like her. Women who have dealt with heartache, addiction, loss, and powered through it. I’ve been reading for a couple days, creating a pool of tears on my keyboard. I guess you could say I’m in a sad place at the moment. (How? You just got back from a great vacation.)  I dunno. Reading those essays has helped me feel more connected. I’m not alone. And maybe if I feel EVERYTHING (sadness, grief, guilt, fear, anger…) at ONCE, I’ll use it all up and will be done with it. Ha! I’m not that naïve, but it somehow feels good to cry, to let the hurt in for a bit, and just BE in my humanness. It’s as though I’ve been wound up tight just keeping it together and to relax, to really let go, allows the tears to flow.

And then in comes Cody, my big bruiser of a cat, who purrs, nudges my hand, curls up on my lap and looks up at me with loving half-slit eyes as if to say “Are you done yet? I could really use a scratch behind the ears.”