I get distracted. Not just by squirrels, but by daily fires and life. I write when I have a thought. I’m laughing writing that, and I think that I must only “think” something that hits me about once a week!! No wonder it takes me so long between stories. My apologies to my newest granddaughter, Eloise. I started thinking about her. But this won’t be her announcement, not really. However, she was born January 9, 2024. Sweet, big cheeked, red haired little lass of barely 6 pounds. Maybe someday she will read this and realized she sparked a thought. She’s gonna make big sparks in her life. I hope I get to see it all! So.. here we are almost 3 weeks later and I’m still writing… thank you Eloise Elizabeth Armstrong.

So…

I believe in God the Father almighty. It’s not just a declaration, it’s a fact. I believe in that which I can not see….personally, I do not have to see “it” to know “it” exists. All I have to do is look around.

First breath to last breath I have witnessed newness in spirit. This past week, I saw “It” again and again. I was blessed to be able to witness the birth of my fourth grandchild at the beginning of the week, and to celebrate the life of a man whose love and influence raised me, at the end of the week. It was the most beautiful contrast of a life well lived leaving this earth to escort a new little spirit to this side to begin her journey. I know he did because I asked him to before he left. He loved me and I always knew that, so I know he didn’t forget. (I also ask him to turn left at the gate so I will be able to find him when I get there. Why left, you may ask?? I will tell you later.) I also saw incredible strength in grief for the loss of a baby and the difficulty in finding joy in spite of the vast emptiness. During the depths of my grief I said I could “feel every single heartbeat.” The pain would engulf me and throw me around awhile, and just when I thought I couldn’t go on, someone or something turned on the light. I understand now, that we have to sit in the dark for a while in order to feel those heartbeats and allow the emotions and emptiness to rip us up so that we can have raw edges to heal. We have to bleed in order to scab. We have to take the whole trip, with all the detours, but we must never ever unpack there. It’s not the end destination, it’s only a bus stop. I also saw the kind of love that can only exist because you know the pain. Contrast is the way we seem to learn these incredibly beautiful and painful moments; neither of which is easy. It’s equally as hard to remember all of the good things as it is to carry the sadness. In my mind I find peace believing that the Almighty is my spiritual stronghold. You can or you can’t, I love you either way. For me. It is.

The pressure that society gives, (mostly being people who are uncomfortable with life’s challenges) to “get over” something really frustrates me. Why does everything have to have some kind of time attachment?? Why do you think that just because it happened doesn’t mean that it didn’t leave unimaginable scars that don’t go away?? There’s no blueprint, no guidebook that lays it out in a neat, easy to follow manual. There’s no step by step overview with sequential pictures!! Oh hell no! It’s hit and miss trial by fire!! It’s head first down the rabbit hole in your very own shit storm. It’s forever…forever in some form or another. It is a scab that’s constantly picked open by experiences as it comes. I don’t care what type of pain, trauma or grief it is. Grief isn’t just about dying. It’s about living! It’s all about living!!! Living through grief after grief , trauma after trauma and all of it is the ugly, dark, hidden part of your life that no one really wants to hear. Not because they don’t care, but because it makes them see their own shit differently. We quietly go about our lives filling our shit buckets and carrying it in silence, like everything is “normal” and we have our shit together. We don’t want people to ever see the chinks in the armor, but when something acceptable, like death, I say death because it happens to everyone, comes along we allow them to talk about it for a short spell afterwords, then we tire of their sadness and become annoyed. Don’t drop your shit remnants here!!! Oh no!!! We don’t want to hear it because it brings us down, rains on our parade, ruins the vibe!! “Move on for God’s sake, it’s over already.” Now, if you really want to rock the boat and see how many friends will stick around, talk about something tabu! Make sure that you don’t go into too much detail because their own fragility will make a run for cover; most won’t return because they don’t really want to believe you anyway. Then… poof!!! You are one on the list to avoid. You see, the human in you wants to comfort others but the human in you can’t. No one wants to see the gross parts, go on and carry that part by yourself. That’s why this journey ebbs and flows as does the grief of living, dying, surviving….. This is precisely why generational trauma, abuse, addiction, mental illness and other ills continue to plague us as humans. We like things neat, clean and tidy. No shit.

Well. In my experience You, yes you, can help this world move forward. How about you try not falling for the bullshit society wants you to ignore. Hold someone in their grief no matter how long it takes. Hold someone when you are having a great day and don’t dismiss them. Normalize trauma journeys so that healing can happen organically and they won’t feel the need to be heard. Believe them. Acknowledge their pain. Provide safe, judgement free space. In every situation everyone deserves that!! That’s what Jesus did. That’s living the life created for you. Love- The most simple way to heal. Allow people to walk in their loss, carrying their buckets of shit and don’t hold your nose. Communicate clearly and compassionately with people and don’t be afraid to speak out.

While sitting at the funeral I had a discussion with fellow classmates about the loss of another classmate and that person’s life journey. We talked about how, in our small school, we all knew who was getting beaten at home, who’s parents were mean as hell, who’s brother was sexually abusing them, who didn’t have enough food or clothing etc, and how no one, not one adult, teacher or authority figure ever stepped in or asked the kids if they were ok. Those programs must not have been available or something, I don’t know. As kids we would help where we could. We shared our lunch tickets, shared clothes and drank beer to help them through the hurt; but we were kids. Injured kids. Sadly, we didn’t know about so many more who had lived in silence and now they are gone due to addiction, disease or suicide. But… we don’t talk about that.

How do I tie this one up, because for me this is a lot to unpack? Honestly I have no idea why I think like I do. How i can see the beautiful birth of a baby and fall into the depths of the ugliest subjects? For me it is life and I cannot separate myself from any part of it. If I feel it, I feel it clear to my core. I exist as one being in a multidimensional space. The good can’t exist without the evil because it all resides within me. So, you might wonder how I know God exists? I know because I’m still here. I know because it’s nothing I have done alone. I know because the experiences that I endured didn’t change my soul. In the darkness I always knew there is something bigger than me that I can feel. I call it God. You can call it whatever you want: higher power, the universe, something out there, spirit. I call it God, the Father almighty. Maker of heaven and earth of all things visible and invisible…. You do you. Remember, you have the power to change this world one blip at a time. One person at a time. We have to normalize the uncomfortable and eventually it becomes a part of the past that doesn’t ruin our future. Part of my future arrived in a really small package. One that won’t have to feel the pains of generations before her. She will forge a new way of thinking and living that will be whatever she wants it to be with no preconceived notions about what it should look like!!! I’m going to be here to remind all of my grandchildren how amazing this world is and give them the compassion to walk next to the hurting. Not run from them.

Until then, if you find yourself at the end of your journey and I loved you, turn left at the gate. That’s where you find the West Coast of Heaven, where the funny people, the kind people, the compassionate people go! That’s where my Gram said the Irish race horses and have Cèilidhs (Kaylee) that’s where you will find me. Over on the West Coast—-hanging with my Gram. She was love.

E