Picking up the pieces

Writing feels hard, so I’m trying to do more tactile creation.

Organization, drawing, decorating. I re-discovered my watercolor sketchbook and finished two drawings. I’ve been inspired by stained glass windows, and daydreaming of having one or making one in a future home. They’re so pretty! 

Home inspo: 

I’ve been browsing Redfin and imagining what it would be like to have a home. (Tell me you’re in your 30s without telling me you’re in your 30s.)

Just as I think I have a routine and things are set, life throws a curveball. The last month has been a whirlwind. I was supposed to be in Austria, having the time of my life. I had my flight booked and a sublease set in the heart of Innsbruck. I had routes planned and Hütte booked. I was going to go back for the first time in four years. I daydreamed about an Aperol Spritz on the apartment balcony, overlooking the Nordkette. I was going to write and paint and bike everyday to my heart’s content. 

And then I got a phone call from an EMT, and everything changed. 

I’ve tried not to ruminate too much about it. In fact, there hasn’t really been time to think about it. Canceling a trip is a small loss, in light of almost losing someone. Austria will still be there for me in the future. 

No one expects to find themselves in these situations, do they? We know there’s risk in everything, but even though we do not know what the next day will bring, we imagine ourselves immune to disaster until it happens.  

“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.

“So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

So, we are picking up the pieces and adjusting to a new normal. I don’t feel like writing, but I told myself I’d write a blog post every month this year. I hung up my three Austria posters that have been sitting on my floor for months. Now, I get to look at beautiful Tirol as I write. It gives me hope that I will visit there again soon–and to daydream that perhaps I can even create a life where I get to go back every year. 

As much of a whirlwind it’s been, life’s slowed down a bit. Over the past month, we’ve watched all of Ted Lasso (just the kind of lighthearted show we needed!) and Lord of the Rings, extended edition. I hadn’t seen it in a few years, and this time, I was struck by how hopeless most of it feels for the characters. They know the battles are death missions, but they go anyway. I’m not sure I would have the same courage. 

I started reading The Body Keeps Score. I’ve wanted to read this for a long time. It’s more interesting than I anticipated, and while I’m already familiar with the mind-body connection, it’s been fascinating to read the science behind why talk therapy doesn’t really help trauma and what trauma does to the body.  

As life slows down, I’m grateful for the little things. My haircut is amazing, for one, and I’ve never gotten so many compliments on it. I’ve been able to get out with friends and drink an Aperol Spritz and imagine I’m in Europe for the evening. My mom flew up and took me out to brunch, and it was so nice to have a bit of mother-daughter time in the midst of all the chaos. Most of all, I’m grateful to get to share meals and hold hands and hear Kaelan’s jokes again.   

I’ve struggled to put into words how thankful I am for the love our friends, family, and even strangers showed us. From the moment I arrived at the hospital, I had friends waiting with me, making sure I wasn’t alone, bringing me food, and distracting me as we waited for hours with no news. My phone blew up with messages of love and offers to help from people I didn’t even know. And then in the days that followed, people brought us meals and watered our plants and sent us money to buy food so we didn’t have to think about anything. We had so many friends come visit in the hospital and at home–it felt like the ending scene in It’s a Wonderful Life, where the whole town comes to support. And the people we didn’t even know–the strangers on the sidewalk who rushed into the street to be by Kaelan’s side, the first responders, the fact that we have a Level 1 trauma hospital right here in Seattle…the nurses, the doctors, the surgeons! 

I’m incredibly touched and in awe of so much community support and modern medicine. 

I wish what happened hadn’t happened, but as we pick up the pieces and try to make sense of it, I can’t help but feel lucky and grateful to have Kaelan, friends, and family.

And, in spite of a little neglect this month, look how happy my monstera is!