Lessons on Letting Go

 I've seen a theme pop up for the past few years. A theme that always ends up with me having to take a deep breath and just let go... Trust that things will work out and that I do not have to control everything. From letting other people pitch in and help plan one of Phoenix's birthdays to today.. where I have to take a deep breath and believe that life will go on without me in Louisiana. That Juan will handle day-to-day duties, that Phoenix will adjust to a new normal without me by his side, and that my son will be loved and cared for by our family.

 I'm nervous and anxious about tomorrow. I have so much I need to do today and keep putting it off because I don't want to face my reality just yet. Poor Phoenix is still running fevers and feeling punky. I was up all night, watching over him, feeling his forehead, waking him up for more medicine, and just listening to him cough and breathe. I found myself worrying that Juan wouldn't do that tomorrow night, but I know he will. He will step up to the plate and handle everything that comes his way... because he always has. And he's good at it.

 In a way, it's hard to admit that life can go on without me.. I know Phoenix will miss me, but I also know that his family here will do what they can for him and help him each and every day. I know that we'll talk on the phone every single day and that he knows he can have Daddy or Grandma call me any time he wants a chat. He'll be fine, I know. It's just hard to let go of all the things I do for him and trust someone else will pick up my slack.

 Leaving tomorrow also means that my reality with my Mom is real. That I'm going to have an even harder, more advanced lesson on learning to let go in these next few weeks. I have a huge knot in my stomach today as I try to ignore thoughts about what I'm going up to Idaho for. I keep telling everyone "It'll be fine. We'll get through it," because I know we will. I know we'll survive but I also know this is going to suck. It's going to hurt and it's going to be a dark time. I just hope for a few glimpses of light along the way.

 I know things will be fine. Life will go on both in Louisiana and Idaho. We will all adjust to new normals and then adjust again when that normal changes. We'll make it through minute by minute, hour by hour, and day by day.