Goodbye 2014


Let’s be honest, I’m ready to close this chapter. Your younger friend 2013 was so sweet to me. She gave me a home, a husband, and my first born son. She made me feel invincible and blessed. She filled me with passion and dreams. The life I always imagined in the palm of my hand. You fed into that deception for a couple months. Thank you for letting me enjoy my first anniversary. I will never forget you. In the blink of an eye you stole so much from me. I wanted my husband much much longer. I still don’t understand why 2015 isn’t ushering him into her story. He should have been here for many more chapters. It wasn’t fair the way you suddenly stole that from us all. I was left in a haze for many of your months. I don’t think I will mind forgetting part of this awful year. You stretched and strengthened me. I would be lying if I said you didn’t change me. 2013 wouldn’t even recognize me. When you stole my husband, you stole the identity I built with him. I was forced to rebuild. I have lived in the loss, in the past for many months. But I feel it, I feel 2015 calling. Calling me to grow, to stretch, to become. I guess you deserve a little thank you. You forced me to live. I’ve never been more present. You tore down my pride. It hurt. True generosity healed the sting. You taught me what it meant to be held, you taught me how to hold. 2012 gave me the most beautiful love I have ever experienced. You taught me a compassionate love from losing that. You forced me to grow. You taught me empathy and patience. In 2013 I thought I was mega momma. Boy did you teach me not to judge. Thank you. This second son was the best thing that came from this year. Thank you for letting me have that gift! It came with many lessons. Most importantly, that we have no control. 2014 you forced me to place my life in the hands of God. “Give us today our daily bread.” Whether that be a friend, a letter, a meal, or a gift- He supplied. I guess maybe I should thank you for that one too. I thank you for the memories. They keep me going. I wonder often if Fareed would recognize me if he came back? I like to think he would be proud. I’m a little upset that you didn’t let gas decline to 2.00$ per gallon when he was alive. He wouldn’t believe his eyes. I’m starting to forget 2013 vividly. It hurts. I want to remember the touch, the laughs, the smiles. Photographs only freeze the memories, they don’t bring them back. I want to close your door so badly, but I know every year I close brings me further from those cherished moments. I can’t believe you are the 25th year I’ve been on this earth. It feels like 50. Why did you make me the rare .5%? 2014, I’m writing you farewell. I need to quit living in this horrible nightmare. 2015 is already singing a sweet song. She’s holding out a hand to pull me up. You tried to drown me, but I survived. I will always hold the scar you left. There was a point I felt I might not make it out. You reminded me that I can endure. You were bittersweet. I like the person I’m becoming. I hate the heartache it took to get me here. I wish Fareed was here to walk these battles with me. Why did you take him? Our sons, his pride and joy, won’t even graduate high school until 2031 and 2033. He had so many years to live. So many chapters that should have been written. But I can’t sit stuck in this chapter, rereading the tragedy again and again. You’ve stolen so much already. I won’t let you rob the pen from 2015. Im closing this chapter. Thank you for the joys, the gifts, and the lessons. Thank you for putting dirt under my nails. I will never forget the tragedy you wrote on my heart. I hope the next couple years help me learn to forgive. You hurt me. You changed me. You prepared me. Loss taught me to live. Loss stole the deception that we are guaranteed forever. I’m thankful for those limited days. I’m thankful for the chapters I was given, even if stopped so suddenly. Those 800 days were beautiful. They were full. They gave me a love that I hold in my heart. A love that whispers “you are beautiful, you are strong.” As I close your door, I ask one thing- let the sting fade. Let 2015 bring with it a comfort I so desperately long for. Let 2015 bring with it healing and new beginnings. Let the happiness outshine the sadness again. Let friendships be deep, let friendships be rich. Let the pain subside enough to smile. Let time keep moving. I spent much of you stuck on one day. One day that robbed the joy of many. I learned a lot from you 2014. You made me real. You roughened my corners, shined my heart, and stretched my capabilities. But goodbye 2014, I’m not quite ready to close your chapter, but I know I need to. I need to heal. I need to feel. I need to live. Hello 2015. Here is to hope. Here is to my boys. Here is to rewriting the story I dreamt of.

“I believe that tomorrow is stronger than yesterday
And I believe that your head is the only thing in your way
I wish that you could see your scars turn into beauty
I believe that today its okay to be not okay.
…This is not the end of me, this is the beginning” -Christina Perri

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