More Steps

In the immediate aftermath of Bryan’s passing, I wrote and spoke of feeling adrift–a boat untethered in stormy seas. My friends and family have thrown buoys and lifelines of encouragement, reminders of the truth of myself. In more recent days, I’m rediscovering and redefining Becci.

Sure, my heart aches. I want Bryan to see the patio and the stream repair. I want him to see all the changes I’ve made in this home, in my art, in my work, in my pursued interests. I showed Mary the patio first upon its completion. No one had worked harder moving those bricks from place to place as a kid. She got the privilege of the first viewing. While standing there admiring the skilled laborers’ work, I said I hoped Bryan would have liked it and been proud. Mary, in her wisdom, gently, firmly said, “But Becci, do you like it?” Yes. Yes I do.

I am finding my confidence again, my voice again. A man who came into the office today called me sweetheart. I told him to please not do that as only one person on this planet had the right to do so and he was dead. In my more vulnerable, squishy moments, I might have let it pass. But no, this is a boundary for me. And I told him so. I also thanked him for his apology later.

Just as I paint a canvas with deliberate brush strokes and a wild array of colors, I am constantly creating a life and way of being I choose in the same way–vivid, passionate, full of energy and emotion, and color…so much color.

I’m no Amazonian princess. I still have weepy, vulnerable days. I had one recently at work. My boss recommended a song by an artist I admire and enjoy quite a bit as a pick-me-up. I share it with you now in case you have felt untethered, unsure, and need a little reminder of who you are, too.