Stop, Drop and Blog

Things have been interesting around these parts. It feels like a non-stop roller coaster.

We fell in love with a property, but not the house. We found out that properties in Ohio can lack a well. I received paperwork for an appointment with a neurosurgeon without warning that said paperwork was coming to my mailbox. We had a wonderful group date night with wonderful friends. An old friend of mine lost his father. I learned that surgery was probably going to happen. A friend died. We fell in love with not one, but two houses. A friend experienced a horrible loss that broke my heart into a thousand pieces. We chose a house. We made an offer. We waited. Our offer was accepted! We began the long, arduous task of cutting our way through the red tape of a VA loan. I learned that I wouldn’t have to have surgery, but a dorky back brace was a must as well as some butt-kicking physical therapy. We found out that we’re getting a nephew! I found out that the back brace makes my back feel worse.

Up and down and up and down and up and down. And up and down.

This is life, I suppose.

These are the moments — these juxtaposed moments of happy and sad and busy and confused and angry and what-now? and heart-breaking and heart-bursting — that remind me adulthood is a mix of responsibility, faith, luck, triumph, loss, failure and love. Being an adult is hard. I get that. I accept that. But sometimes, I miss the not knowing. I miss the ability to just go along with the flow because that was your only option. The being in charge of the flow… or, no… the understanding the even though you’re in charge of the flow that you’re not really in charge of the flow is what gets me the most.

If I had my way, my friends would all be happy, healthy, cancer-free, and never side-swiped with unimaginable loss. If I had my way, my back would function properly and my son wouldn’t ask me, “Mommy, does your back feel good enough to pick me up today?” If I had my way, the red tape would fall away and we could pick and choose our place of residence without worry, without confusion, without second guessing ourselves. If I had my way, it would all be up for everyone that I loved.

But that’s not the reality of life. I accept it for what it is… I suppose.

I’ll put on my dorky back brace and make my way through red tape and visit friends who need a friend and pick up my not-so-baby boy even though it hurts and smile through the pain of it all. I’ll paint pin rainbows and pray and wish and hope and plead and shake my fist for happier times for all. And do laundry. Lots of it.

Because, when I stop and think about what stepping off of this roller coaster called life means, I would rather stay on it indefinitely than step off. I don’t want to miss any of the good just to miss the bad. I don’t want to give up the responsibility just because I don’t like the gunk that comes with said responsibility. I mean, I’d like to miss the gunk; I would. I really, really would. But I don’t think that’s what living life is about.

So I’m on this roller coaster for life. It’s just a shame I’m afraid of heights.