FLM FRIDAY- THANK YOU

Sometimes I feel a good way to measure a good time ,

is how few pictures are taken.

I have very few pictures from the afternoon of the Field Day.

Yet the memories made are imprinted on my heart and soul, forever


Thank you !


The morning after , I thanked my mom and dad for everything

and for allowing the field to be stomped on again and filled with joyful children.

I told them I felt like it had become a sacred space where memories are being made

It has housed birthday parties, basketball games and doggy play dates.

There use to be a house on the property

The first house Mike lived in when he moved here.

I thought about that as his friend that lived there with Mike,

Reminded me about it the afternoon of the field day.

As I thought more about it ,

It actually was the place where he proposed to me.

With Christmas ornaments

He had painted on with glitter glue

The words… will you marry me.

It is amazing how a space can hold so many joyful and sad moments

I am grateful for my mom and dad, opening the space for us to celebrate them all.

Thank you for being there physically and in spirit.

Whether you bought tickets , donated cookies and drinks ,

shopped at Cosco , cooked jambalaya ,

created Balloon art for a straight four hours( I’ve never seen kids wait in line so long before ) ,

created an unbelievable ballon arch ( I do have a picture of that :),

donated cups, cookies, hats, sweatshirts, booked jumpy house and potties and a D.j ,

made signs , bagged marshmallows-graham crackers and chocolate for s’mores ,

helped me come up with the new logo :) ,

moved Celia’s lemonade stand from our house to the Field,

ordered chips last minute, picked up and delivered tables and tents,

sold sweatshirts and hats the entire time .

Donated an entire pig and figured how to keep it warm for hours before.

I know I am forgetting things.

It took Mike’s army to pull it off, no doubt.

If you just simply text me the day of, that you were thinking of us.

I am grateful for it all.

Truly.

Whether you helped set up, and clean up.

If you drove far or just down the street to be there.

Whether you are friends of mine, Mike’s, our families , or our kiddos.

Each of you was a gift to see AND

A beautiful reminder of how far and wide Mike’s love spands,

even,

here and now.


Even today as holidays come

Roaring in like a freight train,

Even as I sit with tears,

Missing him.

I am reminded of the light each of you are in our lives

And I am grateful.

The field day was light.

Light in the dark cocoon

That I feel I am in right now.

It is the reminder of the butterfly .

The next chapter, that I often forget while I am tucked in this

Cocoon of grief.

Graham and I have been reading the very hungry caterpillar each night,

If you couldn’t tell where my inspiration was coming from.


I feel I have been living like a caterpillar.

I feel like I am eating my way through grief each day,

somedays it feel like strawberries,

Field Days of fresh strawberries and sacred moments with other patients,

hopeful an inspiring ways of keeping Mike’s love alive.

And some days I eat through cake , jealousy and anger.

Yes I have my cake and eat it too.

I get a sugar rush of energy and flatten out.

I just want him back.

And then I add a Celia style, thick layer of icing ,

sprinkle the salt on the open wound.

The layer of guilt.

For having any and all of the feelings.

“ I should feel this way, I should be better by now”

“I have so much to be grateful for.”

I feel like I am working my way into the cocoon.

I have definitely worked my way into the cocoon.

I am ready for the butterfly to take flight.

I am ready for that stage.

I am exhausted from trying to be ok each day.

I am exhausted from missing Mike.

Maybe that’s it, maybe it is my full time job, and that is why I am so tired.


His love was big

And the Field day ,

Is my constant reminder of the just how big

It is the reminder of the butterfly.

A peek if what can happen

When I surrender.

When I accept things they way they are.

When I surrender


Butterflies don’t live long.

Their beauty is only to be enjoyed for a short time.

And maybe that is it.

That each feeling is fleeting

That no feeling is forever

Not even the most joyful ones

Like the feelings felt that afternoon

On the field.

I also have to go fully into the cocoon

Ginny ( my therapist ) reminded me this week,

That in the cocoon , is where the most beauty is created

That she is excited for the butterfly for me,

but that being in the cocoon is good

And so important too.

I have to give myself

The gift of permission

To be there

in the darkness


The butterfly.

Good and bad

Joy and despair

Nothing last forever

I hope you know , that as I have not written you each note of gratitude ..YET.

I hope you know that I am grateful for you

I am grateful for you as I am tucked in to the dark cocoon of grief,

on my couch with hallmark movies, retail online shopping therapy,

with wine and gummy bears… my pity party cocoon of grief.


While I am there, the reminder of you , the butterfly , the Field day,

Is what pulls me out.

Thank you for loving me through it all.


I wish you a restful, peace filled thanksgiving.

With no guilt or shame in eating too much pie or turkey.

With no guilt in feeling like you don’t have it all together.

And no guilt in feeling like you are in the cocoon.

With the reminder

The butterfly is coming

Lindsey

Dear Mike,

I have been writing to you again each night.