Team Meyer

I read about Sue getting her dad's luminary for Relay for Life . How she cried and cried, feeling that even two years later, the pain was so fresh. I read about Kari fighting with family about moving on. Feeling ready to take steps away from living in the past, and receiving little support, in fact, receiving condemnation. I thought about the concept of moving on, moving forward. What we C's like to call breathing. And I know that people think I'm doing it. They see me walk and talk. Laugh and cry. Hug and shout. Work and play. Teach and learn. And love, too. I bet it looks like life. Looks like moving on. Sometimes I think it is. Sometimes I wonder. I guess it depends on your definitions. One thing I always love about Robin is his willingness to delve into the myriad of meanings contained in a single word...its nuance, its context, its history, its origins. We decorated Dave's luminary. We went down to the track, amazed and awed by hundreds and hundreds of candles, ...

First of all, look at the cute little picture thingy I put at the top of this blog. If you refresh the page, it puts up a new set of pictures! Father's Day has come and gone again. Last year, the boys were at football camp, and Kate was spending the night with a friend, and I spent the day thinking about Doug, and NOT thinking about Dave. This year, I pretty much avoided the whole thing again. I'm pretty good at that, I guess. Somehow, I just can't go there. I can't let myself think about fathers and Dave and how much my children are truly missing. Whenever I get close, I have to shut it off. Most of those other holidays and special days I have confronted, letting myself feel. On our anniversary, the kids and I watched our wedding video, and I felt such a range of emotion. I was so grateful to have been loved by Dave, so amazed to have been part of a truly fairy-tale romance, complete with my prince, so blessed by our children, so strengthened by life's t...