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Friday, August 28, 2015

Broken Heart, Will Travel



I decided to dive into thirty headfirst.  More and more I find myself scheduling us to the hilt, as if we stay busy enough I may not remember how sad I still feel; remember that another month has dragged me forward, at times kicking and screaming away from the brief moments we'd had with Jack.  But forward I move nonetheless.

I finished up my first month back at work with the annual field trip to the amusement park.  Chaperoning 16 eighth grade kids in jeans and black polo shirts in the ninety degree heat could be viewed as cruel and unusual punishment but truth be told it's not as horrific as it sounds.  It started out with a hiccup as a girl asked me, "what did you name your baby?"  Instantly I couldn't breathe and my heart skipped a beat.  She didn't know; the news hadn't trickled down the way I'd hoped.  What was I supposed to say? I wanted to run out of the room.  Instead, I remembering I had to "adult" while at work, I simply smiled at her and replied, "Jack," and walked on.  I found myself amazed and relieved.  Why was I so worked up over such a small and basic question?  I did in fact name him Jack.  Him dying doesn't change that fact.  Did I omit the truth? Yes.  But she didn't ask for truth, she asked his name.  Regardless of how sad I am, speaking his name aloud soothes my hurting heart, even if only for a beat.  The day marched on quickly and, by the grace of God, a little breeze too.

When the school day ended, I was instantly relieved that I got to stop being Mrs. Doyle for a week and let my brave, put together face relax for a bit.  Sean, persisted as he is, talked me into celebrating thirty.  For weeks he asked me what I wanted to do, and would not take "nothing" as an answer.  I gave in and settled on some girlfriends over for dinner.  I figured since it was a bigger birthday I'd dress it up a little, put on a dress and call it a dinner party- how grown up of me. If I'm being honest, planning something else served as another distraction for me; the result may have been a little over the top, but everyone seemed to get a kick out of it.  We had a great time; good food, lots of wine, lots of smiles, and no candles.  Success. 

















The next morning I got up, got my run in, we packed the car, and headed up to one of my favorite places in the world with one of my favorite people in the world. My friend Jen's family camp house is the kind of place that makes you feel like you can sit, take a breath, and feel like all is right in the world.  Her family always welcomes me and mine like we belong there.  This year being there was needed, even if it was only for a night.  We'd planned to get there earlier but decided to save on boarding the dog for an extra night, but the moment I stepped out of the car, heard the brook babbling its song, hugged Jen and her husband, Andrew, two people who mean more to me and my family than they probably know, I instantly regretted the decision; I would gladly have spent fifty extra dollars to feel the peace I felt in that moment for another day.  Luckily, with no cell service or television, time moves nice and slow so we were able to make the most of it while we were there.  It was a great visit, small leech incident aside! The next morning, we woke up early, helped close up a bit, said our goodbyes, and headed to the next leg of our travels. 













We made our way to the tiniest little airport you ever did see and traveled to Calabash, North Carolina to visit Sean's parents for a few days, yet another place that soothes the soul. It must be something about the Spanish moss hanging from the trees, the way every person you pass waves in a truly sincere way, or the way the evening breeze convinces your brain that even though there's about ninety percent humidity it's more than enough to cool your skin.  Kennedy couldn't get enough of the beach, making me smile once more that she seems to have the same salt water running through her veins that I did as a child.  It was almost enough to make me forget there could be sharks lurking near by, as there had been another attack not too far from where we were a few weeks earlier.  Almost.  As she begged to go further out in the water she was thrilled to be able to stand in, I had to figure out how to tell her that we couldn't without scaring the life out of her and ruining her fun. So I did what any parent would do and told her that was a lot of fish poop out there. The next day at the pool she made a little friend, two years older than Kennedy, who talked all about her little brothers, one a baby.  It was enough to send me into a panic because I knew what would come out of Kennedy's mouth soon enough.  Now this is a shameful parent moment, this I am well aware of, but as she said, "Our baby, Jack Holden, died," and her little friend asked Kennedy to repeat herself, unsure of what she'd heard, I splashed my kid.  Right in the face. She was so pissed at me, she forgot what she was saying, and I'm pretty sure her friend told her grandpa what I'd done.  Again, parenting fail, I know- just put it on my tab I have running over the last seven months.

















As Sean and I rode bicycles around his dad's community, I found myself wishing we could just stay there forever; never go back to our lives in New York.  The thing is though, my broken heart will come with me wherever we go, there is no escaping it. While that makes me feel unbelievably sad at times, it also means that, as part of me has always believed, Jack will always be with me; I keep him close by in his place in my heart. No matter where we go he will come with us.


Getting ready to board to the plane and return to reality.  Summer vacation coming to a close, we will soak up our last few days getting in some local fun before school starts back up and I send my baby girl off to preschool; I'm bracing for impact and inevitable mommy tears.


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