Over My Cold Dead Body
Jun 11, 2014
by Coach Debbie
I want to share a sliver of my heart with you. And I have ‘backspaced’ countless times and I’m only on line one. Because I am unsure how to frame it and let you peer in. I don’t know how to be subtle or appropriate. I cross the line. Are you ready to cross the line with me?
Pretend you and I are at a quaint coffee shop, at a small table, face to face. You are so UNDONE from your day. Because of school, kids, work, husband, chores, relationships, money, health. And I’m nodding my head in an I-get-you fashion. Because I do. I unravel often.
I know you are busy and stressed, but I recommend a pause in all that. Because I’ve learned a lesson the hard way.
I do not know much, but I know more than I did in 2012.
I want you to gift yourself in a new way in terms of your family. Not with presents. Or pictures of them at the park. I want you to gift yourself with taking in the details of each child as well as your husband. I want you to stop and absorb it all. Of that curl in her hair. Of your husband’s eyes that have just a hint of hazel. Of your son’s giggle. Pictures are priceless, yes, but mentally record the details of how their hands feel in yours. How his cologne smells. Listen to your baby sweetly breathe in and out.
Don’t dismiss this purposeful pause.
The man I married and made a family with is now only a memory. And it hurts just to write that as I blink away tears. As I approached his body at the funeral home, one of the million swirling thoughts was HEAT. There is no heat. When your heart no longer beats you are cold. And you can make that as symbolic as you need. I could not warm his hands. No amount of time or determination changed the cold. I realized I had taken for granted the gift of warmth that accompanies touch. Do you?
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Do you brush away hugs from your knight in shining armor?
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Do you deny that mud-covered kid from crawling into your lap?
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Do you cut kisses short?
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Do you sleep in a separate bed from the mister?
I am challenging you to reward your senses. Often. Count her freckles. Adore his wrinkles. Marvel at those dimples. Trace the curves. Savor the kiss. Squeeze that hand. Listen to your loved ones’ heartbeats.
I have laid my head on a chest that was silent.
Hollow. And all I have are memories.
Live in the now. Like a sponge, soak it all in. You will never regret it.
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