The hands that bind me.

Sunday Morning. I got a text from my sister. Something had happened to my dad. A mild heart attack. Something I never thought would happen to him. Regardless of the projected outcome that he’d bounce back and be okay in that moment, I had to see him. I had to hold his hand and kiss his cheek. So I packed up my son and kissed my husband and baby girl goodbye, and headed the three and a half hours to the hospital.

My mind spun out of control, but my face, my actions didn’t show it. I sang songs with my son and we talked about his latest and greatest Scooby Doo game and all the adventures. Then he drifted off in a nap and my mind was wandering on its own. I kept thinking, how could this happen? I’m not ready for this. And what must be going through my stepmom’s mind? What was it like for her to see him, and catch him and watch his life vacillate between her world and heaven?

And then I saw him. My dad. A man of strength—courage—the epitome of coaching and fitness. The man with a philosophy, “You’re only as old as you let yourself think” –and I was scared.

I guess I’m throwing myself out there today, because in the time I had to think between that phone call and the minute I woke up this morning, I’ve been struggling with pain. I’ve been struggling with the past. Panic has risen up and brought with it many difficult memories that refuse to lay back down. And I think it’s important to talk about that power pain has—the unfortunate problems that come up because we can’t get our own hands to relinquish our own grip around our throats.

Our minds are beautiful things and tormenting things. The pain in one moment opens old wounds and brings up old memories. I’m sucked into the “should haves” and selfish thoughts of why didn’t I say more and do more. Then the feelings swell up so high, like a tidal wave upon tidal wave—it’s almost impossible to determine what emotion goes with what circumstance. So how then do we stop and get a grip?

Pain is paralyzing. It can suffocate your goals and dreams in seconds. I’m learning to fight back. I’m trying to figure out how to separate my feelings from the facts and remain in the present. So I’m sharing some thoughts I learned in how to find the release button:

*tips right from Oprah.com

Change Will Happen

The world won’t stand still just because I want to live in one second of my entire life for the rest of my life. We meet people. We make decisions. All of these things are based on our experiences. Not only does the world change, but it’s important to accept we will change for the better or the worse. I’d rather change for the better and I think the outcome is almost entirely up to me.  So I guess what I read means when change happens, be ready to find all the good things in it. Now I must admit, this is really scary. I’m scared of thinking about what life will be like after surgery on Friday. I’m praying with everything I have that the best will happen and my dad will come out better than ever. But I also know now, none of the crap in my past matters. I have to let it go. I have to love my dad and myself and respect that every moment was supposed to be exactly the way it was.

Positive Thoughts Every Day

When I get up tomorrow, I will place my faith in a positive outcome. I will fight with courage. I will love every minute. I will make myself see the day as a good thing and not a fearful thing. I have to. I have to remember that my dad is a blessing and a miracle.

Peace and Hope

To start my day off tomorrow, I will tie it with one of my dreams. The hope of finding the peace inside myself. I will take five if not ten minutes before my bunnies wake up and practice a little yoga. I will focus on my body and let go of my fears—at least for five whole minutes. Maybe if I can center myself and calm the mind before it runs away with everything else, the panic will settle down.

I expect to have some hard times ahead. I expect some hard memories to try and work their way back into the forefront. But then I will have to make a choice; either they win or something better, greater and happier will.