It is what it is, as my dad says (a LOT)

It's been a very, very, very long time since I've felt any desire to open my heart up to anyone or anything much less this blog.  This past year has been filled with so....much.  I'm not sure where to begin so I won't.  I think this picture speaks a million words.  I finally, after 6 years, spread Reese's ashes.  Right there, where I'm sitting, at the edge of Kiwanis Meadow where it meets the cliff.  It seemed appropriate and some day the majority of my ashes better end up there, too.  When I opened her urn for the first time, ever, my mind was blown.  Exactly a month before I lost Reese my Gramps, George Inness Hartley, passed away. The certificate inside her urn, tucked into a little Ziploc bag, had the name of the man that did her cremation.  His name?  George.  I lost it.  It was one of those universe things where everything collides and, well, that can be pretty damn intense.  It was.  I've let go of a lot this year.  My anger.  My need for control, okay it's a work in progress but I am working on it!  My insecurities and vulnerabilities have come a very, very long way.  I've done more yoga, less gossiping, more walking, less eating my feelings.  I've lost weight, the number doesn't matter, I've gained self-esteem.  I've fed my soul with rich relationships, long talks, hikes, music...so much music...being kinder, gentler, more compassionate, less judgmental (note the keyword there....less, I'm not perfect).  I've had to make really hard decisions when it comes to my kids that I would not wish on anyone, ever.  I've packed 1700 sqft house by myself, had the help of wonderful (amazing, truly beautiful, fantastic, shall I go on?) friends moving into a 900 sqft house with 2 less bedrooms, one less bathroom, but an infinite amount of love and support and peace. That chapter closed.  The kids are thriving, for the most part.  Faith is in middle school, absolutely thriving with her new-found friends and freedom from the mean girls of yesteryear (thank goodness!!!).  Alorah is in 5th grade, still battling her asthma (she just got through a pretty nasty attack) but so much better than she was two years ago.  She loves her school and her friends.  Vance is..Vance.  That kid, bless him, was sent to teach me patience.  It's served me well, especially this summer.  He can be the sweetest child on the planet, and he can be absolutely impossible.  I hope for an easy adolescence with him.  I deserve it!
This year I have made amends with old friends, with myself, with my choices, with the consequences.  I've forgiven and let go because the weight was crushing my soul and I was too exhausted to fight it anymore, and besides sometimes enough time goes by you really ought to let stuff go, none of us is infallible.  I've purged stuff, loads and loads of stuff.  Physical stuff, emotional stuff, metaphorical stuff. Some of what used to be of major importance to me has drifted away.  I've let my children enjoy the freedom, respect, and responsibility they've earned and taken it away when they've needed to be reigned in.  I'm, painfully, slowly learning to follow through with Vance.  It's hard.  It has to be done.  Discipline has never been an area of strength for me.  It's just as hard on me to break him a little at a time because he is at that age where he can see and feel how he affects others.  He has had some breakthroughs.  It's two steps forward, six steps back, but it's movement nonetheless.  We're not stagnant any longer, and that is progress.
I love (and at this juncture hate..it's finals and a&p I lecture is a fight to the death.  There's still a slight chance I'll pull an A.  As it stands I have an 83%.  I have made amazing friends this term.  I was chosen by one of them to be the Vice President of the Psychology Club that starts next term, more to come on that.  Leadership is a big deal when it comes to getting into a program and right now I have my eye on 3.  You'll have to wait and see which road I go down, I don't even know yet.  Right now it's the road to survival until my a&p lecture final is over next Monday (and if I ace it I grovel at his feet for an A because I'll be sooooooo close).  I have found a true and honest love of learning really complex, dense, amazing, hard material that I didn't think I had in me.  I've worked harder this term than I've worked in school in my life.  I've never been more exhausted mentally in my life.  I raise my kids solo.  Just because we live close to family don't think for a second I have built-in help with them, cleaning, laundry, or anything else besides a beer or a family dinner now and then.  The weight of that on its own can be really hard sometimes.  I fail, I cry, I ask their forgiveness, I get up, and we move on.  There's no other option.  I wouldn't have it any other way, truly, for the circumstances we were faced with.  It could be so much worse.  I've started behavioral therapy, to get some coping tools, it's helping.  I need more yoga and as soon as my final is over on Monday that is what I will give myself for two straight weeks.  I have 20 classes of hot yoga from groupon.  I need to get on the mat.  That song, the one with the lyrics "in the pain, there is healing", is true.  The pain brings you somewhere, I think you just need to be able to follow the doors it opens, leave the ones it shuts alone, and be happy that today, at this moment, life and all the pain that goes with it-have brought you here.