IELEV8

Nine years ago, my day began as just a regular day. I did all the regular things: I woke up, showered, got my kids ready for school and day care, went to work, taught eleven classes of Spanish to small children, left school with Lucia and Cooper in tow, picked up Cecilia, drove back home, and began to prepare dinner. This particular day was so ‘normal’ that I honestly don’t remember anything about a single moment between 5:30am and 5:30pm. I only know that I did all of these things because this was my normal routine on a regular day. 

That evening after getting dinner ready, I began editing photos from my most recent family session while waiting for Mark to get home from work. When he walked in the door, he immediately and rather frantically, began to tell me that someone he knew from high school had died unexpectedly the previous day and he had just spent the last several hours contacting people he knew to let them know about this tragedy. This detail stands out because it was so sad, so tragic, and certainly not something that happens on a regular day. I promptly kissed Mark goodbye and raced out the door for the salon to get my hair done because I was running late for my appointment. On the drive over, I contemplated momentarily what Mark had just shared with me. He was so shook up over this news, yet I pondered how his sadness likely didn’t even compare to the devastation that his friend’s family must be experiencing. Moments later, my mind had wandered back to thoughts of my own regular day. I was looking forward to my hair appointment, as I usually did, because at that time in my life, escaping to the salon for a few hours to catch up with my friend and stylist, was often the only social time out alone that I afforded myself. On the way home, I stopped at the grocery store and wandered the empty aisles, trying to remember what I had stopped for, meanwhile enjoying a few extra moments of solitude before I’d venture back to the chaos of clean-up and bedtime routines with three little ones, ages six and under. I had no idea that my regular day was about to become the day that changed everything.

The moments that followed are cemented in my mind eternally. They aren’t sequential, but rather like a jumbled mess of emotions, sounds, memories, faces, music, and feelings; all pieces of a giant puzzle that fit together to paint the picture of the most excruciating painful days of my life, the events that altered my existence forever.

…

There was a brief time after I lost Mark that I wondered if I could pinpoint the exact moment where life took a devastating turn. Was it when I kissed him and walked out the door? Or when I almost missed the turn to the grocery store on the way home? Was it weeks earlier when I scheduled the hair appointment? Or was it not until it was “too late,” when I walked in the door and realized that Mark wasn’t responding when I called out his name? I briefly and mistakenly thought that perhaps if I knew WHICH moment was the exact instant that my life was fractured forever, I could determine whether there was a way that things could have been different. Fortunately, my struggle with this question didn’t last long.  I quickly realized that you can get stuck forever pondering “what could have been…” and the fact is, we can never go back and do things differently. 

The truth, that anyone who has ever experienced a life-shattering event can tell you, is that a regular day can suddenly, without warning, become the day that changed us forever. For better or for worse. At any moment, life can throw you a curveball. And when a big, black cloud rolls in, you’ll be confronted with a choice. Are you going to curl up in your bed and hide from the storm or are you going to get out your umbrella and rainboots and face it one step at a time? However, Mark’s sudden death wasn’t just a dark cloud.  It was a monsoon. The loss of Mark was an entire season of change which erupted as a sudden and radical shift in the direction of my life. It struck me like a bolt of lightning and I was completely disoriented. Yet somehow, amidst the chaos of our tragedy, I found acceptance, strength, and resilience.   

The word “monsoon” comes from the Arabic word “mausim,” which means “season.” And while we frequently associate the term with destruction and devastation, monsoons actually bring life-giving rains to the areas that they pass through. 

It wasn’t just one split second that changed my life. It was all the moments that followed that fateful instant where I chose to weather the storm head on. I certainly didn’t do it alone. My children were my strength. Faith and hope were my compass. And I was immensely blessed with an outpouring of love and support from friends, family and an entire community. They provided the life-giving rain throughout my darkest days. Yet, ultimately, I made a conscious choice to start each day by accepting my new path and making the most of it for me and my kids, one day at a time. 

I certainly never imagined that my life would follow the path that it has. When lightning struck, I worked hard from the very beginning to look for the silver lining in that enormous dark cloud. I still do. While the world keeps spinning day after day, and life moves forward, I pause on this day, and recall these experiences, which have shaped me into who I am today. I’ve spent the last nine years working hard at finding a balance between trusting that there is a plan for my life and knowing that making courageous choices and starting each day with a positive attitude can also determine my destiny and my happiness. I’ve learned that transforming your life in the best ways requires emotional work, intentional decisions, and deliberate action. And I am also armed with the acute awareness that there will always be more storms. 

Yet, the most important lesson I have learned from loss is that all we really have is now. Each day is such a precious gift. Such a simple truth that we often forget. At any moment, your life could change forever. Make sure your regular days count. Choose to linger in the space between faith, hope and love: today.