crusty edges

You get a cut on your knuckle. Because your body's amazing, that skin goes right back together, sealing itself up in a matter of days. But then, just as it's getting better, you forget and bend your finger, and it spreads apart again.

You're not bleeding, and the healing isn't reversed, but the skin is now a little crusty on the edges where it's not quite together anymore. And then you pick at the little pieces of crusty skin. It's annoying but doesn't hurt. But now there's a bit more awareness than before you bent that finger.

Are you picturing that? (Maybe I'm the only one who does that?!) ☝

Side note: I just did a quick Google image search for finger cuts. DON'T DO THAT! Yikes. I should have know better! 😒

I think I'm healing well from my dad's death. It's now been two years, and the pain has lessened considerably. I go about my day without being consumed sadness, regret, and guilt. Those emotions do surface, but not constantly as in the beginning. Joy has returned, and I am finding pleasure and happiness where I feared it would never again be felt.

Wednesday was the anniversary: Feb. 12, 2018.

Mom, Eryn, and I spent the day exploring Milo McIver State Park on the Clackamas River, then eating Beyond Burgers and tots at nearby Carver Hangar. Then we hung out for a bit at my house, attempting to plan a baseball trip to San Diego, before going to Sonic for milkshake dinner. A perfect tribute! 🍔

It was a good day - full of fresh air, laughter, memories, togetherness. I didn't feel particularly sad - more resigned (which is a little sad). That's now the new "normal" - and my heart and mind seem to be dealing OK with that.

But Wednesday evening, I got a message from a woman in my morning running group: Our leader had just come home to find her husband collapsed. He could not be revived.

Instantly, my phone blew up with friends searching for answers and understanding and details and wondering what to do.  

The experience has been a little bit traumatizing, mostly because of the proximity and similarity to my own family's tragedy. But I'm OK. Friends who know have asked, and I appreciate that. I decided last night that it's like the aforementioned finger wound: It's all still sealed up, but now a little crusty along the edges. I have some things to process.

I am absolutely heartbroken for Nichole and her family. I *know* how an unexpected death hits like nothing else and shatters your world.

But one "good" thing about my own fresh experience is that I have a unique understanding of what she's going through. I pray that I can use my own experiences to help her through her grief and the tough times ahead. I pray I can be someone she can count on as she navigates her hurts and life changes. 🙏💗