it hit me…

It’s taken me two years to be able to scrapbook this photo – and this story.  I have really struggled with my desire to record the emotions I experienced after Zach’s stroke…and the following months.  It’s still a tender spot for me and even though I feel it’s important to record my thoughts and feelings, I also know I have to do it as I feel comfortable.    I finally felt ready to write a little bit about it and took the opportunity to share this story, photo, and layout on the lily bee blog today. 

As I said over on the lily bee blog, "Sometimes a picture tells a story. Sometimes a story needs a lot of words. Sometimes I choose both.

If you’re interested in the journaling, but don’t want to have to squint to read it, here it is: 

And just like that, it hit me. This was the moment I had been both anticipating and dreading. My baby was growing up. This little boy who had barely left my side for five and a half years was going to leave me every single day. For 3 whole hours. Although I was looking forward to the opportunity of working during daylight hours (rather than staying up all night to work as I had done happily for many years, just so I could be at home with my kiddos all day), I found myself feeling sad. Sad that my little sidekick would not be hanging out with me all day, every day. Sad that I had to face the fact that I was no longer the mother of toddlers or preschoolers. Sad that this phase of my life was officially over. At the same time, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. So thankful that this little boy, who had, only 2 months earlier, laid unconscious in a hospital bed while we wondered if and when he would wake up again. We wondered and hoped and prayed that when he did wake up, he would be the same little boy who had simply fallen asleep early one night…little did we know that he was the sweet, innocent victim of a stroke. I felt grateful that he was not only able to wake up, but walk, talk, play, and function as normally as anyone else. Grateful to know that, in spite of the new knowledge we had about his health, he was able to carry on as if nothing had changed. In reality, everything had changed. But it wasn’t Zach who had changed. I was changed. Forever. My priorities changed. My ideals changed. Most of all, my perspective changed. Every day is a gift. Every new experience. Every opportunity to watch him grow and develop and learn and love and live. That’s what this day was – a new experience. I felt gratitude as I watched him walk down the path, off to a new adventure called Kindergarten…and I smiled and maybe cried a little, but I was glad to have it hit me like it did.

I wrote a little bit about Zach’s stroke HERE and HERE…when it was still so fresh and raw and scary.  It’s still scary…it always will be… 

Here are some of the fun decorative details from my layout:

This is why I scrapbook.  To tell the story of my life.  Not only to share experiences and events (though I love doing that as well)…but to tell the story behind the photos.  To record the thoughts and feelings that are purely mine.  There’s no right or wrong to the way the scrapbook. 

I just want to tell the story of me…and my little world.…