Brave Enough To Be Bliss

figured that was why I was feeling so unsafe. I had an appointment coming up with Ginger, so I started to unpack the memory and allow myself to feel whatever feelings arose with it. While not pleasant, it wasn’t awful. I asked myself questions and searched within for the answers. When I began to hear the old voices or go down a path of thinking from years past that I knew wasn’t true, I made an about face and headed back toward self-love, kindness and compassion. Overall, I was a pretty good friend to myself. I was excited to see Ginger and share what I had remembered about my childhood sexual abuse. For the first time since I met her, though, things immediately felt “off,” and I wasn’t sure if it was me or her or both of us. I acknowledged it in my mind but di dn’t shut down, which is what I would have done a few years earlier, especially with the type of memory I was working through. I continued to tell her about everything, including the feeling that there may have also been abuse by a friend’s father who work ed for a church when I was at her house for a play date. I had also figured out the smell in the house was triggering. Something about the older home with wood floors and the basement gave it a musty smell that was reminiscent of where I was visiting when I had first been abused at three. Ginger strongly suggested I find another place to stay, and I agreed it would be for the best. When I told Ginger I was having trouble editing the book, she mentioned that sometimes right before a big breakthrough God or the Universe presents things to help ensure we are really ready for what lies ahead. She told me this was the time for me to double down on self-love, confidence, etc., basically everything I had learned the past six years. I heard her, but I wasn’t quite sure what to think of the concept. It was something I was going to have to ponder for a while. Surprisingly, when I returned to the house in Lawrence later that evening, it didn’t seem as triggering and by the next day, I decided I didn’t need to leave there after all. Once I talked with Ginger about everything, the fear was gone. And even if a thought arose from time to time, it was just that: a thought…not a fear. On June 28, the day after my appointment with Ginger, I received a note through Facebook Messenger from Vrenda, saying, “Thought of you when I heard this,” with a link to an Instagram video that had the song Flowers by Samantha Ebert playing in the background. I hadn’t ever heard the song before, so I took a break from the book editing and drove to get a soda so I could listen to the whole song in the car. I wasn’t really sure what to think of the song. I liked it, but some of the words troubled me and yet others were very reassuring. But there was one thing I was absolutely sure of after listening to it several times, and that was I needed leave that evening and drive to my hometown to help with Jace Ward’s memorial event s the next day. You may recall he was the young man who died of DIPG who I wrote about in an earlier chapter. I sent a text to my friend, Jace’s mom, at 3:51 p.m. asking if she needed any help. At 4:17 p.m. she replied, “I will take you anytime day or night!! I can’t wait to see you!!” My low tire pressure light had come on the day prior, and it wouldn’t hold the air pressure. I called to see if they could get me in to fix that issue and they said yes if I came right then. It turned out a valve needed to be replaced so it was a good thing I got it fixed. I also decided to visit a high school cross country teammate and his parents, and that was scheduled for the next day between the two memorial events. After a two- hour drive, I was at my friend’s house by abo ut 8 p.m. and helped get things ready for the next day’s events as well as met several other parents who had lost children to DIPG. As I drove back to Lawrence the next evening and was reflecting on all the events of the past 24 hours, I realized everything I had just done wouldn’t have happened before because fear would have stopped me at the thought. But I was brave. I had reached ou t at the last minute to help even though I didn’t know exactly what I would be doing or if I would be any good at it. I met new people who were experiencing grief, and I went to visit people who I had previously thought disliked me because I had made that up in my mind years ago. Samantha Ebert - Flowers (Official Lyric Video) (youtube.com)

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