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Liminal space

I decided to take a trip to not only honor my self and my deep need to grieve my son, but to try and find my way through this place of inner turmoil. A fresh perspective from a new place that fosters a part of me that’s been dormant for the last year or so while I cared for my family. While I possess many qualities, both good and bad, creativity is at my core. That part of me has felt very stifled, and that has been ok for the time.

Someone said this is my liminal space. I can’t go back to what was. I can only move forward in some way. Life, my work, our family will never be the same without Reed, but he left his mark on me forever. He will forever be my precious son, the one that can make me laugh harder than anyone. ( Please accept that as a challenge, because I love to laugh.) Each threshold I pass will take me to the next place. I hope that it is beautiful and nurturing of creativity, as I attempt to acquire that again in my life. As I write, I am sitting in a tiny cafe in Bassano del Grappo, Veneto, Italy named Hemingway’s. Surrounded by art painted by the man’s grandfather who studied art in Genoa. Not a bad place to write.

When my kids were little, we went on so many adventures. A wrong turn on a generic day quickly turned into an adventure. Apparently, I had enough of those that the kids would ask with giant sighs, “mom are we on another Adventure???” The adventures weren’t always welcome, but necessary to be able to get back home. This time this adventure will take me to the next space, filled with good things, faith, a merciful and forgiving God, a good future with my beautiful, incredible daughter, shared memories of my wonderful son, and we shall see what else.

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