“It’s okay, it’s going to be just fine,” I whispered. “Nobody has died here”, for God sake!  They were all packed up, the Jeep was warm and everything was ready for their long trek heading east. Everything, except for me. Kisses and hugs and thank-yous to and from one and all. Before I placed him into his car seat, he gave me one last hug. It was a doozy, as it squeezed a giant unyielding lump into my throat.  I fought the tears that were hell-bent to come. I headed into the house before they backed out of our drive. Somehow I just knew that I couldn’t watch them actually go.

Jumping the steps into the house, I walked in and looked around. Yup, lots to do. I walked from room to room assessing the “damage” brought by five glorious days of trains and tracks and books and blankets. Man, I missed them so much. You know what isn’t a great idea?  Walking around in the house remembering all of the moments that were full of everything except for silence. It was making me feel worse.

I know by experience that this is just self-inflicted torture and there was no joy in it. Only more tears…so I’d fix that.

It’s so easy to sit in my writing chair and philosophize about life and joy and share stories about overcoming challenges in life. It’s especially easy when I wasn’t having to use my own advice. So now is the time to put into use the tools that I know, for sure, will help me.

I closed the door behind me and skipped to my studio. Grabbed the remote control and turned on the Hallmark Christmas channel. I took a quenching gulp of my iced tea and felt that lump in my throat begin to dissolve. I began the process of creating a red hummingbird that held the ashes of someone’s deceased loved one. Working on this beautiful glass brought my heart back to healing mode. I had surrounded myself with all that served me. Everything inside of my glass studio brings me joy. And that was surely how I felt. Joy! And Gratitude.

The house would be brought back into shape soon enough. I would store the trains and toys in the closet, under the chairs, in good time. My job then and now- was…and is….to heal my heart and focus on what feels good and great. There’s just no time in my life to dwell in sadness or to decide to stay anywhere near there.

Yes, that little boy took a bit of Mimi’s heart when they left. But I know that he’ll keep it safe with him and he will return it to me when I hold him in my arms once again.

How blessed I am to have a family that I love so very much. I think of some that choose to hold on to grudges that separate them from one another and I wish them the grace of an open and loving heart. I am not wishing the pain of letting go on anyone, except for to say, how glorious it is to love them so much that it’s physically painful to let them go. Our lives are a collection of choices that we’ve made. And all of mine have brought me here. I’m so very grateful.

 It’s from a far better place that I write this today. Yesterday, for just a bit, I was walking thru my house as if it were a museum of Christmas’ Past. I chose to NOT STAY THERE. Don’t stay, if it hurts. Fix it, when it hurts. Fill the space with things that are wonderful. New memories will gently tap you on the shoulder and ask to come in. Let them in.

I’m so glad that I did.

I’ll tell ya what, though….this Mimi stuff isn’t for wimps. It’s hardcore heart wrenching stuff. Who knew you could have a love like that. And now that I’m on the other side of tears I’m going to go and have a glorious day, just like I’m meant to have. I’ll play with glass and feel the magic of James Taylor as he sings. And I’ll glance every once in a while to a picture of Jackson in the corner of my studio and think…oh, he’ll be back. ONWARD!!!