I am already sad. Not the depressive sort of sad that in the past has debilitated and paralyzed me, but a sadness signifying that something in my life is about to come to an end. I think in anticipation of that “end”, today has been one big long sigh... I am about to do something that has been nagging me every single day for more than three years. I am about to jump deep into my own life and write the story of my Lauren. I know it is going to change me forever.
Lauren is not just the daughter I lost on October 9th, 2006. Lauren represents the portion of my life, where everything unraveled and what was left at the core was the question – where did I go? I have carefully lived my entire adult life floating above this undercurrent of unease. I knew it was there, but I pushed it aside and hoped with every move and accomplishment it would vanish.
I became a superwoman. I was highly accomplished in my jobs, I threw myself into the work of the church, I found a like-minded man and got married, had my first and second child. I was a stellar employee, minister, wife and mother. All the while my insides rumbled. I lived that entire existence with a hatred of it that was so buried I could not identify it. What is amazing now, in hindsight, I realize that the origin of my dissatisfaction was very simple, I wasn’t living my life. I was living somebody’s life, but it sure wasn’t mine!
I got caught up in being the most excellent I could be. I was moving through my life day by day, making plans that seemed good. I thought I was maturing, but actually I was doing the most sophomoric thing an adult can do. I was living to fit in and I did it for almost 20 years. I stopped playing music, stepped away from the writer's community. In fact, I didn't write. Not at all. I made my attempts, but I could never gather the momentum needed to write. Not even for one day.
I had lost my voice. The voice I always lived by - the voice that was created just for me. My voice, although still a little quiet, is back now and has been for a while. By writing about Lauren, I am going to share that voice in a way I never have before. It's scary, exciting and nerve-racking all at once. I think today's sadness marked the mourning of my fairly anonymous life.
But now I am smiling. Still a little nervous, the nervousness a blogger gets before pushing publish, but I'm smiling. I did it! I've jumped into writing my life head first. Even though I can't even swim.