Last night, as I drove home from a laughter-filled, fun couple of hours with some of my favorite people, I was stuck by how happy and peaceful and deeply grateful I felt.
• Grateful for these people who have brought so much laughter & love & fun to my life.
• Grateful for so many other amazing people I am so privileged to know.
• Grateful for parents who love me and support me in so many ways (even if they don’t always “get” me!).
• Grateful for this diverse, anything goes community I live in.
• Grateful to be a part of creating a school that empowers kids and encourages them to focus on their strengths
• Grateful to be here, now, with all the ups and downs and twists and turns of my life
(just to name a few)
Yesterday was a somewhat bittersweet day for me. It’s the day that would have been my daughter’s 8th birthday. I miss her. I miss that I never got to hear her voice or see her eyes or watch her grow. As I’m working to help create this school, I often find myself thinking of what I would have wanted for her and how much fun it would have been to bring her there to learn and create and discover.
Yesterday could have a very sad day. It has been in the past. It would be very easy for me to wallow in the what-could-have-beens and sadness. Instead, it was a good day. It’s become a day to celebrate all the beauty in life and to be grateful for the beautiful beings that touch my life – just as my little Grace touched my life. Instead of wallowing in the sad, I reach for gratitude. And each year on her birthday, I give away a bouquet of yellow daisies to someone (or several someone’s) who, in the previous year, helped remind me of the beauty, fun, and joy in living.
Instead of regretting what could have been, I get to celebrate the beauty of what is and honor my Grace in the process.
This has been the most peaceful and, well, easy birthday anniversary since she died. I laughed a lot. I was very productive (yippee!). I spent some time outside taking in all the spring flowers and leaves and sunshine. I remembered all that’s beautiful about my life and how blessed I am.
Grace has been here with me, too.
I have one ultrasound picture of Grace, taken shortly before she died. I’d been thinking it was about time to take that picture down and put it away. Seeing it always made me a little sad. Wednesday night that frame fell off a ledge and completely shattered (and I do mean shattered – frame, glass, and all!). Ok, Grace. I get the message 
Wednesday was actually the day I felt the saddest. Until I went to hear a group of women drummers perform. They were amazing. Just a few minutes into their performance and I felt the sadness dissipate and lift. And I danced and laughed and simply leaned into the experience of it all.
The rhythm of the drumming stayed in my head all night and I dreamed of it. Grace was there, too. I couldn’t really see her clearly and she didn’t say anything out loud, but she wrote the words to this poem in the air in letters of bright blue that sparkled and glittered. When I woke up this morning, I wrote them down.
Some would probably tell me that was just my mind merging the two events. But I know Grace was there, lifting that sadness. The picture frame breaking and the poem were reminders that life is always moving forward and that the beauty of life is found now, in what is.
Thank you, Grace. Even though you couldn’t stay, I’m so grateful you chose me.
Drumbeats
A thousand drumbeats in my head
Pulsing
Beating
Crying out
Tear the veil of there to here
Open, open
Light pours through.
Rhythm dancing
Body swaying
Feel the pulsing beat.
Open, open
Chanting, singing
Grace in motion.
Breathing faster –
Stop.
Booming silence
Echoing
A thousand drumbeats in my head
In my body she bloomed
