normal

I used to think I knew what normal looked like. 

It was a unit.

A husband. A wife. Two or three kids. 

That used to be normal. 

Getting degrees, working jobs, making money. Going to church on Sunday. Weekend trips. Early to bed, early to rise. Beach vacations. Normal.

Normal before cancer. Normal before death. Normal before  . . . Normal before the unknown. 

Moving forward into the unknown. Normal takes on a new face. Friends were important before. They mean more now. So much more. And there are new people to meet. Limitless numbers of new people. 

Do I do something new? Do I stick with the old. How far do I step into the unknown?

I don’t want grief to be my normal. I’m ready to shake free. I’ve been spending my life in a busy machine that can’t get past missing what was. Busy has been my constant companion. Busy has been a good friend to me. But busy isn’t sustainable. Busy blocks reality. 

I want to feel comfortable again in my own skin. I want to feel happiness and to smile and to laugh. I want to enjoy the people around me. I’m ready to move forward into the unknown.