Unknown

It started innocently. I was sitting in a meeting in a church basement, listening, learning and growing. The metal folding chair was uncomfortable. I shifted in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position. Eventually my right leg fell asleep.

I thought nothing of it. Things like this happen all the time. On my way to the car, I stomped my foot, hopping up and down trying to regain feeling. It didn't come. My leg felt heavy and sluggish.

At home, the sensation spread to my right arm and eventually the right side of my face. This was not normal. I was scared.

A trip to the ER in the middle of the night, allayed some of my fears. No stroke. No lesions. Nothing serious.

My primary care doctor thought it might be a pinched nerve. A referral to a neurologist led to multiple blood tests. I had MRIs of my neck and brain and and MRA of my neck. All of these tests revealed nothing.

Nothing. We don't know what is wrong.

I was still having symptoms. Numbness, pain, headaches, neck aches. The pain was real, I felt it. I continued feeling it for months. Months with no answers.

A referral to a rheumatologist revealed nothing. A painful nerve conduction test, nothing.

Nothing. No answers.

I began to question myself. If the doctors can't find anything, is there something really wrong? Is this real? Am I imagining it?

The seeds of my doubt had been planted earlier in life. Physical symptoms were discounted by doctors. I was told it was stress, depression. I was given anti-depressants with no follow up.

I didn't question. I thought doctors knew best. I was crazy. It was in my head.

But it was not. There was a real problem. There was a solution, a treatment. If it was true then, I have to believe it is true now. I cannot live in the unknown.

Possiblities

I love this time of year. Everything feels shiny and new like there are new possibilities around every corner. There is so much I want to do, to try.

But I am careful. I do not resolve or promise anything. Instead I follow the possibilities seeing where they may lead. Perhaps there will be an undiscovered present full of joy, perhaps not. That is the gift of the new year, it holds so much promise. We can make it whatever we choose.

This year I choose love. I choose laughter. I choose hope. The rest will take care of itself.

A New Year

Our family recently celebrated two new year celebrations. The Jewish New Year for Frink and the Ethiopian New Year in honor of Lion (this brings the total new years that our family celebrates to four, well five if you count the school year). I like the idea of having a new year in the middle of the year. It's a time to look back. It's a time to cherish what you have and also a time to start fresh.

This year (or half year) has been filled with so much beauty. Moments that I want to savor like a summer peach, so ripe that the juices drip down your chin. Laughter. Smiles. Hugs. Kisses. Holding a sleeping child in my arms. Watching my daughter run and play with her friends on the playground before school. Beautiful, perfect moments I want to keep forever.

The challenges have been difficult.

"He bit me!" " I don't want a brother." "You ruined my life when you brought him here!!!"

The times in the beginning when he could not bear to be apart from me. The hitting. The biting. The inability to communicate with my son.

The new math of one to two, three to four was difficult to learn. There were times when thought I would break, sobbing in the darkness wondering what I had done.

I needed an escape, an oasis in the desert. I found what appeared to be a crystal clear pond that I could soak my bones in at the end of a long day. Night after night I jumped in the inviting waters but I did not find peace. Instead I found that I could not swin. So instead of relief, I struggled.

One night I climbed out of the pond for the last time. When I had wiped the water from my eyes, I saw a path through the woods. I did not know where the path led, I only saw its beauty, its potential. I saw smiling faces welcoming me. I saw hands reaching out to help me. This is not a path I would have to walk alone.

So I enter this new year full of hope for the beauty that is to come. And if there are unexpected twists and turns, I know I only have to wait four months for the next new year.

Hope

Darkness and Light

I've written several versions of this post, wondering how best to sum up this past year for me and my hopes for the new year. Most of the posts contained explanations and rehashings of the the cloud that I have been residing under for the past six months. It didn't feel right. I didn't want to focus on what has kept me from being creative and has, at times, kept me from even opening this blog.

This cloud has been me, a part of who I was. However, I am addressing it. I am learning how to deal with it. I am moving out from under its shadow. I will not give it anymore power.

Today was a microcosm of this past year. I decided at the last minute to have a mini New Years celebration for our family. The tree of us would ring in the New Year with a meal, desert and surprise treats. I had a lot of work to do, making a list, running to the store, dealing with crowds, and preparing everything just right.

My parents offered to take Bunny to the Domes, one of her favorite places. This gave me about an hour to make a surgical strike on the grocery shopping. I went to my favorite neighborhood market. Normally I enjoy it but today as I circled the parking lot for a spot, I could feel my chest start to tighten. As I walked the aisles, I was cut off, banged into and generally jostled with every step. I could see the dark clouds over my head and my mood darkened with it.

All I wanted was to get everything on my list and get the heck out of there. I stood at the checkout counter, ready to pay. The exit was in site. I was almost free. Just then, the woman behind me, engrossed in a conversation with her husband, rammed her cart into my side. She looked up, startled at what she had done and mumbled that she was sorry. And promptly ran over my foot. Ouch. &*@#**%@*&$##%$$$&**%#$**!

I fled to the safety of my car. I was stewing about the stupid people and the ruined morning. I realized that I forgot something on my list. Of course I forgot, that's just the way things go. Rather than returning to the store, I got the heck out of dodge. I hoped that another store would have what I needed and would be less of a hassle. It was not, but I managed to escape the store with what I needed and without bodily harm.

As I drove home in a foul mood, I passed my favorite coffee shop. Coffee! An extra large, superhuman sized latte would solve my problems. Or at least make me feel better. As I approached the door, I noticed a woman holding two large cups. She looked directly at me with a smile on her face (something I hadn't seen all morning) and said "Happy New Year!"

I nearly stopped in my tracks. What was happy about it? There was a storm raging inside of me. This happened and that happened and I need to do this and that and I've got to go there and . . . And oh my god shut the heck up Renee!

The woman was smiling, she was in a good mood (she had coffee) and in that moment her saying "Happy New Year" made it happy. The wind started blowing my cloud away, making room for some much needed sunshine. I could smile. I could say "Happy New Year". I could be happy. I could do all of this, if I wanted.

I want it, I really do.

Happy New Year. May this year bring us all more happiness.

A Taste of Spring

Today it was 58 degrees. On February 10th. In Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

This is the kind of weather you dream about all winter long. When its cold and snowy, you think to yourself that it will be warm. Someday. And that someday was today.

I am not naive enough to think that this will last. I know it will freeze again. I know it will snow again. But for now I will hold on to the feeling of warmth.

Change, Inspire, Hope

Today I sat with my daughter on my lap and watched Barack Obama take the oath of office to become the President of the United States.

I listened to her say "President Barack Obama" as I had taught her, knowing that she could not possibly fathom the importance of the words she was saying.

I listened with tears streaming down my face to his speech about the challenges we as a nation are going to face. My daughter looked up at me and saw me crying. She said "Its okay momma, its gonna be okay." And she was right.

I wanted to share this moment with her. To know that she will grow up in a world where all things are possible. To her it will be normal that an African-American man can be president of the United States. That is amazing to me.

Right now my heart is full of hope for the future for both the new president and for my daughter.