Saturday, February 27, 2010


It seems the older I get, the harder it is to move. When did that happen?

Even at 41, I know that if I don’t m-o-v-e, my body gets stiff, my energy lessens, and my mind eventually follows suit. It’s not long before I find myself plopped on the couch still in my PJs, watching some reality show, inhaling a half gallon of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream.

The problem is the longer I sit, the harder it is to move. It gets to the point that moving will hurt. My back aches, my head is in a sugar fog and the energy I used to thrive on has become depleted from yelling at pathetic women on TV who are in desperation to receive a rose…

Yet there I sit.

Inertia at it's best.

Sometimes I don’t want to move forward because that means I have to face where it is that I am. I have to face that what I had is gone. I have to find a new way to be.

For me, the hardest most painful time to move forward was after losing Jena. I didn’t want to do anything and moving forward was not an option.  Moving forward was just too painful because I knew my future did not contain Jena. She resides in the past, in memories...or so I thought. I chose to just numbingly stay lost.

Moving forward after losing a child is almost next to impossible. Time moved on whether I wanted it to or not. Winter passed, spring had arrived and I was still unable to move. Moving hurt.

What I had forgotten was that I had always loved life. I loved showing the world and all its wonder to my kids, I loved to laugh, I loved to be active, and I had raised my kids to know that life is certainly worth living. I just forgot.

It was months before I noticed that spring had arrived. From my bedroom window I could see life come back in to nature and that time mercifully moves forward.

It’s never easy to take that first step. I don’t care if it’s getting off the couch and going for a run or putting the bottle down and choosing to get back into life. That first step is always a choice and is rarely easy to do.

Right now it’d be easier to sit here, take an Advil for my backache, and stay in bed eating comfort food that makes me feel momentarily good. But that’s just not me.

Life is just too spectacular to waste on the sidelines; you have to be in the game to feel the victory.

Sometimes moving hurts but in the long run it’s the NOT moving that’s the most painful. I know Jena is with me always in laughter and in tears and I also know she would so kick my ass for wasting a single breath.

Time to choose.

Time to move.

Time to put down the remote, chuck the ice cream and grab your sneakers....and come meet me at the amazing race called: life.



  1. Beautifully said. Thanks for the inspiration to just keep moving ahead. Your words, written with so much emotion, help me and others, to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Life is for the living. Thanks for the reminder!

  2. As always your post is inspiring. I need to move my body more. It will still ache and protest, but at least I will know I've done something. Thanks for the kick in the pants!


  3. Perfect blog for my mood for today. You know, my daughter Angela has epilepsy and the seizures have not been able to be controlled through medicine. I often feel I want to share but feel that who am I to complain when she is still with me. I know it can't compare to your loss. Keep remembering that your fight for CF as well as your fight to inspire others to keep living when things get bad are a priceless gift. I have to remember to never give up hope for a future for Angela in which she can have a job, drive a car, and be somewhat independent. Love, hope and prayers for you and Eric's future of course. That being said. Sometimes it just helps to vent. This is from your cousin Bonnie. I don't know if my name will come up because I'm going to try to set it up through anonymous.

  4. Put on your hat, put your foot outside your door, promise yourself a whole block. It doesn't have to make sense at the time.