I've learned that a lot of healing, at least for me, is learning to let go. That can be tricky, because of course I want to hang on to every aspect of Rip that I can...but do I really? More often than not, the tendency is to let my mind "go there", back to the worst possible memories. Memories that really aren't serving anyone any good.
I can't do anything about what happened to Rip, those memories are mine, fair and square, but when they come it is my choice (now, at least) whether or not to "go down the rabbit hole" and indulge in hours of unhealthy thinking. Wouldn't it be much healthier to remember the wonderful, good things associated with my baby boy? There are plenty of good memories. And it certainly would make his memory and legacy to this world more in line with what I hoped it would be.
And poor old Gracie...the other day I realized how often I say things to her like "Be careful!" and "Watch out!" Luckily, she is at the age now where she just busts right ahead and does whatever she wants, but I don't want her to grow up afraid. Sure, it is my job to use common sense and keep her safe, but the other night I was up for an hour at 3 am worrying about the fact that Gracie can't swim and could drown. 3am. Middle of the night. In February. You know what color that is? The nastiest shade of putrid green created out of past circumstance, bad memories, and fear.
Neither of my kids deserve a putrid green world. Not when there are so many other lovely colors out there to choose from. So I am really trying to color my world, and theirs, a little more carefully these days.
A girl who deserves a hot pink world