At one time in my life, I would have buckled under the massive amount of guilt over letting this blog go for the last two months. And then I turned 30 (and then 31, but who’s counting….) and I stopped feeling guilty when life just gets too busy and a dramatic shift in priorities occur.
Scott has been the constant cheerleader for In a DC Minute, remaining the only one communicating on Twitter and Facebook. I have found a way to put one or two things up on Instagram, but honestly, even that fell by the wayside. He continues to softly urge me to get back at it, as this space is about a couple and just isn’t going to work with him running things solo.
To catch you up – life has been busy.
But the real reason I stopped writing is not because my schedule got the best of me. On the contrary, I stopped because I didn’t have a single thing I wanted to say.
When Miah died, I felt for the first time the weight of true loss. I have been lucky enough in my life that at 31, I have never experienced the death of a close family member. My grandparents passed when I was younger, and even then I was not as close to them as I would have liked to be. In all of my darkest hours, there wasn’t a thing that couldn’t be fixed by writing it out. When my husband left me and I found myself in the throngs of divorce, I wrote and was comforted. I discovered my voice, as weak as it might be. I found solace in the cyber void and a cathartic release when putting my fingers on the keys. Life has always been easier when I write it.
But not when Miah died. In an effort to ease the blow of her loss, I prepared in advance our epic giveaway week. I created Miah’s Legacy in order to give back to Save-a-Pet of Niagara County (thank you, again, by the way…). I reached out to a dozen small businesses to support our cause. I had hoped that all of this would result in knowing that our loss was someone else’s gain, and Miah would live on for us in spirit.
As I walked out to Miah’s grave with Ivan the morning after I lost her, I realized that there wasn’t a single thing I wanted to do more than disappear from the Internet. I wanted to close my accounts, delete the blog, and STOP TALKING ABOUT HER. I didn’t want anyone looking at her pictures, reading our story, and forcing me to confront that my girl was finally gone. And since I didn’t want to talk about it, I didn’t want to talk about anything.
It has taken me two months to fully process this.
I realize only now that in an effort to subconsciously disappear, I faded from this place and immersed myself in life on the farm. I forced my way through those posts about Miah’s Giveaway and secretly grew to resent the space that forced me to relive my grief. Scott continued to live “our” DC life: wining and dining, attending events, and maintaining all of our platforms. I only did what I had to to help, but passed the torch and forgot my log-in.
When I returned from my escape in New York, I allowed my transition back to the high school stage consume me. I am a week into the new year and I am overwhelmed, but so very grateful for this change. I feel like all paths have led me to this place, and I feel a fulfillment that I have been craving. My seniors are incredible, genuine people, and my juniors have already challenged me in the best of ways. I’m thinking again. I’m learning again. And I’m absolutely in love with it.
As I lounged in bed this weekend, surrounded by papers, novels, and lesson plans, I felt like I was missing it. Missing the record of the transition. Someday when I look back on our archives, Summer 2015 will be a blur. And that’s not what I want for Fall 2015. So, my darling Scott, you are no longer a One Man Show. Bring on those dates – I’m ready to eat.