"Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in Heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy."
- Eskimo Proverb
It's crazy to think that it has been 7 months since the twins were born. 7 months. WOW. I feel like I blinked. Exactly 1 year ago this weekend is when we discovered that Peyton had little to no fluid. A lot of "milestones" lately.
Some of you know that I am training for a half marathon. My first, ever, half marathon. Let me clarify-- I am NOT a runner. I honestly, never have been. My twin brother, Adam, got those genes. However, when a friend of mine asked me if I'd be interested in running one in May, I thought, well-- it's now or never. It's always been one of those things on my bucket list that I'd like to do someday, but have just never actually committed to. Sure-- it sounds great in theory. I'm turning 30 in August, might as well do it before I really get old, right?!
Anyways, when I began training, I honestly didn't realize just how therapeutic running would be for me. I literally refer to it as my therapy. (A new pair of shoes and workout gear are a heck of a lot cheaper:)) But yesterday, was unique. Every time I go for a run, I get a little anxious inside, a little nervous and excited. Yesterday, I set out for my "long run" - 9 miles. When I started out-- the weather was simply beautiful--- 70 degrees, sunny and a light breeze. Sounds perfect. About 2 miles in, I totally got into my own head. You can't do this. You're going to have to call Nick to come pick you up. Ugh, my ankle. Ugh-- I think I have a headache. I was seriously talking myself out of what I had set out to do.
I hit my 4 mile mark and there it was. "Come on, you got this." Written with fresh chalk on the sidewalk. Man, okay--- I got this. Wait, no I don't. About 100 more feet down--- "chin up buttercup". 100 more feet, "I am SO proud of you."
To say I had goosebumps from head to toe is an understatement. It's like the messages were being written moments before I was passing each spot. These messages continued all the way to mile #8. Just to where I needed to make it home. It's like Peyton was talking to me. He was encouraging me to keep moving, to complete my goal. Afterall, he is one of the reasons I decided to do this.
During my runs, I take time talking to God and talking to Peyton. Imagining and dreaming of what life would be like if both of my boys, my twins, were here together. This is the time that I allow myself to truly "grieve", or rather, embrace the life that I am living.
It is my medicine. It is my therapy. It is my life. I am living the life that I love.
Although my heart hurts beyond words. I miss Peyton. I am sometimes brought to tears and other times brought to pure anger that Preston does not get to live the "twin" life that I do. But yet--- honestly, that sadness does not consume me. Instead, the happiness of both of my children, and husband does.
As we reach new milestones--- Preston crawling, moving from laying down to sitting up on his own, successfully taking a bottle (that's another story) -- these all bring smiles to my face. Kaylee sitting in church, crossing her legs, so excited that if she is "good", she gets to give Father a high five at the end. All of these moments are moments that I do not take for granted. Not for a second.
I encourage everyone to live the life you love. Stop and smell the roses, literally. Take time to notice when our lost loved ones are talking to you. Because when they do, it makes everything we're doing here on Earth, worth it.
"Smile... Heaven is watching."
- African Proverb