I've been pretty quiet this last year.
You may have noticed. Or maybe, and truly, hopefully, you were too busy living your actual real life to notice.
Nonetheless, I have been. Quiet that is. It was a season of mess and busy, and then the beginning of putting down roots. Last fall brought out the leaves and started our kick-off to house sale, full of projects and crazy. The new year started, we were in full-fledged house-sale mode, constant cleaning and last minute to-do's. Spring brought a big move, a housing transition, and heavy readjustments in the form of house-sharing, horrendous commutes, and the internal chaos of temporary homelessness. Summer ushered us into our dream home and many precious blessings, tempered with more transitions and re-learning how to navigate parenthood and family life.
And here we are. Those leaves are changing. Falling once again. In some ways I literally cannot believe that this has been a-year-in-the-life, it feels like a crazy blur. Time-hop likes to remind me that I'm ridiculous when I think that Arlo was JUST born and freak me out that my "baby" will be TWO WHOLE YEARS OLD next week and we officially have no more highchairs in our home. It. Is. Glorious.
And even though I would do it all over again, because I truly, deeply, feel this is where we are meant to be, it cannot be ignored that we missed so very much. Friends birthdays, parties, family dinners, enjoying the seasons and holidays, even the day-to-day precious moments of our babes growing up at such tender ages. So this year, it was hard, it was a marathon, and it was right, but there is no denying the grief over the relationships affected and the strains caused.
One thing I've never been good at is consistency. You want big, and loud, and comin' atcha like a dark horse, then I'm your girl. But the even flow of day-in and day-out, that is decidedly not my jam.
I try. Oh my land, I try SO hard. It's always been this way. In high school my nickname was garnered from a friend when he heard Jack Johnson's hit "Flake". I don't want to be that way, and I've spent exactly 34 years trying to be better.
And sometimes I am. But it seems like in times of busy and rushing, I revert to my very worst self. The self that turns to self-preservation mode, trying to keep everything afloat. The self that is so consumed with trying to keep her world together that she doesn't even think to reach out to loved ones and friends to check in on their hearts, their worlds.
It's not lack of love, it's not lack of desire, it's not intentional. It is simply a very deep character flaw.
A year later and I have so many deep hopes for this next year. Putting down roots, building our life here, but most of all, I pray over our relationships, friends, family, new beginnings and community. Moving from the chaos to the calm, from the reactive to the intentional, from the head to the heart.
This year I don't want to be quiet. And I hope that you'll notice. I hope you notice because I'm right there alongside you, living your actual real life.
So this is my open letter, a recovering flake's apology: I am sorry and I will do better. I am and I will. Those are my promises.
