"No matter how your heart is grieving
if you keep on believing
the dream that wish you will come true."
If there's one word...well, besides pirate...that pretty much sums up the theme of my life right now, it would be simplify.
Since mom's passing, I know that I've hinted pretty heavily at the kind of life I want to have, about how my priorities have shifted, about how those experiences have forever changed me. I can't call losing my mom anything but life changing. Altering, really. I may have always had the foundation, but I don't know that I've had the courage and the faith to act on it.
Well, I finally did. As of November fourth, I will no longer be gainfully employed. Well, unless you count domestic goddess, mother of two happy boys extraordinaire as a profession. And we could throw tie dye princess in there somewhere as well.
Long story short, I am hanging in my career hat and trading it for a hat I've worn before, but needs some dusting off. And that's the hat of a stay at home mom. I've done both. I've stayed at home, and I've worked. I have no opinions about what anyone else should do, I think happy parents = happy kids. I just know that for me, and for my life, right now, there is nothing more important than being with my family, and especially, with my children.
Nemo has had enough change in his life between losing my mother, getting a little brother, and going to kindergarten. He doesn't need any more. And Squirt...well, if I posted pictures of us, you'd see why I can't leave all that cuteness. The cheeks...oh my goodness, so kissable!

I'm smitten with my children, I'll admit it. And I remember how my mom was able to be there for us. My parents owned their own business, so my mother would work her schedule around us, and be home when we were home. Between them and my grandparents, we were always with family, and it was wonderful, and it's what I want for my kids. I want to be the mom that's home.
Let me tell you, it's not easy. Being a mother of two children is by far the hardest job I'll ever have. It tops anything I've ever done, and it's the most exasperating and also the most rewarding.
I am heartily looking forward to this new chapter in my life. It's one of the first in a series of steps I've begun to take to reclaim what I feel is my true self. It may have taken 31 years to get some clarity, but I think for now, I know who I am, and I know what I want. It is an honor to my mother to live, and I want to live.
I've started drawing and painting again. I've started writing again. I'm going to stay home with my children and take care of my family. I continue to do the tie dye and absolutely adore it as a side business. I am blessed, and I am happy where I am.
I've made no secret of the fact that I'm in therapy, and one of the things I'm focusing on there is mindfulness. Being in the present. Not looking so much at the past, and not so much at the future, but living the right now. And I can tell you with absolute certainty that where I am right now is exactly where I'm supposed to be. That could change a year or even ten years from now, but I'm confident enough to know that I will know when it happens, and I'll know what's right for me.
It's been a dream of mine for a long time to do what I really love, and I'm happy to be at a point where I can do that, where I have that option.
I'll share another dream with you, this time a real one.
The twenty-eighth marked the six month anniversary of my mother's passing. And, this week, as I was feeling particularly weepy, I had that dream. The same dream I've had since she died, the dream I have before every big event, ever since I booked our February trip.
I'm in Disney World, and it's February. MJS, Nemo, Squirt, and I are getting ready to ride Pirates of the Caribbean, and suddenly, my mother is there.
I mean, SHE'S THERE. She's standing right next to me, and we get onto the boat together. I can smell the water, the smell of the ride, I can FEEL the weight of her next to me. She is there. We go through the whole ride, and I can't believe it. She's not dead, she's on Pirates with me.
And when we get off the ride, she's gone.
And when I wake up, it hits me. She's still gone.
This dream is so unlike any other I've had, it is so unbelievably real and tangible that I feel like this is a gift from my mom. I think it's her way of telling me that even though she's passed, she is still taking care of me. I am still her baby, and she is still with me.
And you know what? I think it's her way of telling me that she's going with us in February. I know that when I ride Pirates she won't magically appear like in my dreams, but maybe...just maybe...I'll feel her sitting next to me, and know that she's there.
No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true.