Sunday, September 30, 2012

10 years.

10 years ago about this time in the evening, I sat in a small circle with my family in Logan, Utah, grieving the loss of a most amazing brother. 

John Patrick Nolan will be forever missed.  Tonight my family again gathered in a circle to share and remember this man.  We had children making noise -but the spirit in that room was quiet.  Peaceful.

Love is what John preached.  I think that his sense of compassion and humanity continues to affect lives --mine in particular.  I want to be like him.  I want to have those who know me, see me as I saw John: humble, loving, gracious, compassionate.

Sometimes I still do talk to him.  Sometimes as I wash my face, or kiss my babies I silently cry, feeling his presence and his concern.  I know there have been moments of my life -since his passing- where he was there with me.  ...Crying with me.  ...Laughing with me.

I want to take this moment to tell my family that they're everything to me.  I can't imagine my life without their love, their (undeserved) support, their compassion, and understanding.  I live within the legacy that John left: a family who will stand together, and never pass the opportunity to tell each they're loved.

"And I will stand fast in the liberty in which God has made me free.  He is first and last, who was and is, through all eternity.  And His foundation will not fail or give.  I will look to Him and live.  I will look to Him and live."
--David B. Nolan
--Excerp from a song he recorded in WA, the day John died.  ...Before he knew.

Yes, there's a hole in my heart.  A real one.  I see a cardiologist on October 9th, because it's not just a hole, but regurgitation in two valves... 

Sunday, September 16, 2012

There's a hole in my heart....

Ummm.  Really.

Monday, September 10, 2012

Iron walls

The pieces of me that comprise a whole are so vastly different.  I have come to a settlement of sorts; each is autonomous.  Each is still a functioning piece of my heart, my head, my personality, my behavior.
Each important person in my life is presented a different combination of these pieces ---that which is necessary to sustain the integrity of the relationship. 
Very rarely are some of the pieces combined in a way that makes me unrecognizable to anyone...

...And on some occasions, the boarders to these pieces erode, or decay, or break, or are consciously opened to include a new piece to the dynamic of the relationship.
I speak of very specific souls:  Friends.  Family.  Children.  Spouse.  God. 

Within each complex recipe, these pieces are controlled or hidden, or nurtured; creating relationships where I'd hesitate to change anything.  RARE. 

Most are where I have not successfully compartmentalized that which can tend to change and affect what I'm working toward --the hope for what's exchanged within that interaction.

More and more I slip.  More and more the balance of the woman I try to present to others is not just changing outwardly, but inside the unsettled pieces crack easier-- some with such intensity that I don't recognize the fact that it's still a piece of me.

What I'm trying to convey in this metaphor is probably not making much sense.  What would clarify it for someone --for myself included-- are the pieces with iron walls.

The outcome of their expression would change the face of any and every perception of this Rebecca.

...To move forward is as difficult as moving back.  Being still is where it hurts the least... but change --as sure as the sun comes up every morning- will come.  In the end, the puzzle I put together is the most difficult task imaginable... and the girl you know might not be the girl you know.