The first day of October found me in the emergency room with a blood clot in my leg. I was scared, in pain, and I had no idea what this would do for the months to follow. By the fourth day I was attempting to sit more and do less, while I learned that my former husband was beginning his last battle on this Earth. For twenty days I watched as my kids endured the pain of losing their dad. A few more trips to the emergency room for the clot and a weekly blood test was dappled into my seemingly busy life that was intended to be a time for healing. I watched as my kids courageously said goodbye the father. I was on the outskirts of their grief to hold them while their hearts were shattered. As a final blow, the call came that because my girl is getting survivor benefits, she is losing her own eligibility for Medicaid, which snowballs into she is faced with losing her home health care. The month needed to end.
At times in the last six weeks, I have felt like my life resembled a snow globe that was constantly bring shaken, bringing the flurry of chaos into constant motion. As I begin to watch things settle, I remember Thich Naht Hahn teaches that we must make good use of our suffering, or mud, in order to nourish the flower of happiness. As I look within my own flower of happiness that exists from the depths of my own mud, I acknowledge the petals of courage, endurance, compassion and love that make up the vibrancy of the blossom. I know that while this unique month was as challenging as they come, hidden within the pain is a connection to myself and to my children that cannot be replicated in any other experience. I am grateful and deeply humbled to be on this path and I trust that the healing and happiness of my blossom will emerge.