Wounded Yet Moving Forward

Author’s Note: This post was written in 2022 at a point in my life where I began draft posts similar to writing in a journal, more so for my own healing and never published them. I can say that I didn’t fully complete this post because I remember crying too hard to put any more words down. It’s raw and incomplete, I never went back to finish it and I don’t intend to. However, I do plan to write and share more. Loss and grief tend to bring you to your knees, and a longing for simplicity, to hold on to things that you know and take pleasure in the things that you love to do, because time is short. For me, it’s always been creating and writing.

As I continue to navigate through the finality of losing both grandmothers that I’ve spoken of in this post within the past 3 years, Lola Evelyn in December 2022 and now my Granny Bonnie in April 2025, re-reading where my heart was, wanting to feel and remember, I felt led to hit publish in case anyone else may be grasping for some feeling that they aren’t alone in whatever they’re experiencing. That’s it’s okay to feel broken and you can keep moving forward. I hope this helps.-

I really needed to just sit in a moment to write this post. It's been long brewing and with the ups and downs that I am personally, and we as a family are, going through in our lives, I know that so many of you are dealing with something as well. While it's now 2022, the ripple, and in some ways tidal wave, effects of 2020 continue to loom whether we like it or not. So, we have to decide how we will continue to respond and show up for ourselves and others.

This is an open letter here on my little space of the internet to anyone who may be struggling, because honestly as much as I believe life is pure magic, it still comes with heartbreak, disappointment, anger and at times loss of hope in the pits of despair. I am done with attempting to figure out the "why" to things that happen to me and people that I love, and slowly the release has at least opened my eyes and heart to be aware of how I am living my truth and reminds me that I don't need to have all the answers.

Wounded and Aware

I write with a heavy heart, mostly as I feel hopeless and cannot fix things or make things happen how I'd like. It's definitely a "me" issue because I know I can't control everything. If you follow me on IG you know one of my grandmothers has ALS and the other, Alzheimer's. Mix that with the day to day of life, work, job searching to relocate and caring for others and myself, let's just say I haven't taken much time to sit and truly process what it means to really do anything but try to move forward.

I've been in autopilot pretty much the last year and a half, tending mostly to others before myself. I know, that's not the healthiest, nor is it the wisest. The last few months have been a series of hurricanes and just when I thought healing and rebuilding began from the damage of one, another one came roaring in.

I want so badly to fix things and its in my nature to see how I can make things better while helping the people affected by the turmoil. I want to take away pain, bring peace and show those that I love so much just how loved they are. To be a rock so others can process and heal, yet through all the "strength" action, I am becoming hallowed and in any given moment will crack and crumble. I've always loved Rumi and if you haven't see A Wrinkle in Time yet, you need to.

Of Pain and Sorrow

"The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” – Rumi

That was me recently, wounds gaping and finally cracking, as I burst out from the skilled nursing facility in tears after a visit with my Granny. I struggle with not being able to have a reciprocal conversation with a strong woman that has guided me through some difficult things in my adulthood and was always there to shed light and insight, a living inspiration on how to move forward even when the world is a shit show around you. If anything, Granny is one of the strongest people I know. She has endured so much and I did my best to hold back my tears, not allowing her to see my wounds and heartbreak of her current state.

I don't think I did too good, because while we looked into each others eyes as I spoke and shared about life, taking breaks to let her receive my stories, I could see it in her eyes, the worry over me, when I am worrying over her. The look of it's ok to accept this and move forward, because in the end, I can't do anything but be there to love her. She held and squeezed my hand most of our visit, and I even got a couple of chuckles as I talked about my dream of taking her to Disneyland. She isn't having it, but she knows I am a Disney nut and loves and indulges my dreaming. Her laughter always brings a smile to my face and if I’m being honest, I fear the day that we lose that way to connect, too.