From Out of the Darkness, You will Come

From out of the darkness, you will come.

So will I.

The only guarantee which we have in life is that all will change, and I hope–in this moment–to share a light with everyone I love.

In the two and a half years of Corrie’s Butterfly Garden’s existence, it has changed so much.

This time of year I become more introspective. It’s the time of year for …

graduations, parties, engagements, weddings, and more.

I know. After all, my birthday is mid-May, sometimes lining up with Mother’s Day.

For the previous two Mays, I’ve wanted to shut out all events, memories, and people. This was my solution. At that time, I didn’t wish to hear anyone’s news, nor be a part of without wishing to disappear. A part of me died with my daughter.

Recently, I started streaming a show called Poldark, and right now I’m in the second season. There’s much in the plot to which I can relate, including the loss of a daughter and how grief affected the characters. But one statement a character made accurately reflected how I felt on May 28, 2020; the day after we lost Corrie.

I wish I could lay down, and just be buried beside her.

We each experience a tide, or tides, which will attempt to sink us. These are the very tests that challenge our wills and solidify our strength, even if we don’t see it during those times of turmoil.

I couldn’t stand how the rose shrub looked with the angel statue in the Butterfly Garden, so I moved it.

Now one rose shrub, an original to the garden is on one side, and blueberry shrubs are where the tall rose shurb once grew.

Often, from our darkest spaces, and our most vulnerable moments comes a light we can choose to cast on a small section of the world.

This doesn’t diminish the loss, anger, depression or abuse you’ve felt in your darkest hours. I know what it’s like to be hit again and again with bad news. I can’t put into words the dread I felt when my husband was home alone in February 2020 when a tornado and tumultuous rain came through our area.

We transplanted a lot of plants from their original location. This rose shrub once leaned next to Corrie’s angel statue in her Butterfly Garden, and now grows in front of the house.

Recently, I thought deeply about those around the US, who faced loss and devastation during and after the spring tornadoes.

In February 2020, I was with my students during the hours when you could hear the loud sound of rain, as if it the held weight of hammers on my school’s roof. Water poured through an area with a leak just off our hallway and near the cafeteria. Meanwhile, I trusted the teachers, who looked after my children.

This was the time when John faced the tornado alone at home.

Damage caused by the tornado took down the barn on the former Christmas tree farm.

Metal was spread by the storm around the land.

A tree came down over the future site of Corrie’s first memorial garden, the Butterfly Garden.

The aftermath of any terrible event and the emotions it stirs never define you. They are a part of your journey, whether we like it or not. There are situations in that journey difficult to accept. This includes the fact you will experience depression, increased anger, or mood swings.

While I’m not trying sound like the end of a commercial where the actors do a third-rate Broadway song and dance about medication with two pages of side effects, we have one guarantee in life: change

We rarely realize, or care how trauma will shape us while we’re experiencing it. Sometimes others want us to “snap out of it” without realizing our strength is growing from our vulnerability and heartbreak. It may take a few seasons before it bears fruit.

The Turning Point

We’re not talking about a ballet movie adored by fourteen-year-old girls, and forgotten quickly in three-months’ time.

You reach a turning point in your own time, and on no one else’s smartwatch nor calendar.

These things of the world

will soon fade,

but your strength comes

from the woes

of yesterday.

Mom brought a hydrangea meant for the border of Corrie’s Arendelle Garden on my birthday last weekend.

Before being honored with once-in-a-lifetime news this week, I began to feel some joy in springtime.

A strange idea occurred: I wanted to celebrate others, in the ways I could, again. This truly honors Corrie because of her sheer love and delight in others. This includes very small things, such as flowers from her gardens. I wanted others to know I felt joy and excitement again whether they announced an engagement, upcoming birth, graduation or retirement.

There are many recent announcements from people about whom I care and love. I celebrate them all in recent news that most who know me are aware of, since Thursday. It’s because of my family, friends, co-workers and others, as to why I was honored during this past week.

On Thursday, I found out that I was selected by WCNC and Keffer Hyundai as the next Hometown Hero.

The photo is taken by my school school district on Thursday morning when I was announced as a Hometown Hero.

John and I at the Keffer Hyundai dealership to sign paperwork on Friday.

The flowers on the left came from the Keffer Hyundai dealership and the flowers on the right came from all who honored me with this blessing.

I will not share specifics of the story today as it is yet to show until Tuesday night, but only one year ago I believed I was forever in the dark. I believed people would tire of our story and me. I thought I had to travel through my grief journey alone.

The only guarantee we have in life is that things will change. My perception was incorrect. But I want to share the joy, amazement and gratitude because there are so many other blessings about which I’ve heard recently to celebrate. I adore the people in my life deeply, and wish to share light with them.