I am not quite sure how it arrived there, but she is resilient.
When Wade left for Leadership camp, he only waved because I said a pathetic, "Goodbye, Wade!" The confidence and independence of my children continues to betray me again and again. He and his sister are so similar; their stark independence reminding me that I prayed they would each have this kind of internal strength.
Taylor seldom cried as a small child when I would leave her with a caretaker. We were blessed with good, kind souls who showered our kids with love and attention while we worked. I think they each nurtured Taylor's perception that the whole world was hers. Even when she was mature enough to realize that not every day was about her, Taylor remained the light and life that poured into others. Disappointment only created more drive within her and perseverance resulted when she was faced with a challenge.
You would think that chasing life fiercely after losing a soul so intentionally passionate would be easier. It isn't. Since this is my space for naming things and finding honesty, I struggle with embracing life rather than just existing. Despite the fact that I know she danced in the face of difficulty, I can't shake the feeling that I am abandoning her when I find my own confidence or enjoy laughter with a friend. As each day passes in July of 2o15, I hear the bell ringing, the countdown looming. I am forced to recognize the pieces of acceptance I have met with denial, that this isn't a nightmare or just a interlude to be endured.
"We are more than conquerors" was the scripture I read this morning. It and the silly petunia made me remember Taylor and the quote she left on her twitter wall.