Choices

It's Thanksgiving today, and it is the first holiday since Riley was born that I have not had her with me. Although I didn't expect it, this has been very hard on me. I love my little girl more than anything, but I also very much enjoy the time I have to myself when she is with her dad. I expected today to be more of that enjoyment, but instead it has been bittersweet...a day to be grateful for the many good things in my life, while missing the one person for whom I am the most grateful.

Because the weather has been somewhat decent today, I chose to get a little more biking in before the snow hits and this becomes impossible. Doing something physical seems to allow my mind the space needed to work itself through whatever it has been wrestling with, and today was no exception. I started to think about the choices that I've made that led me to a point where I was punishing myself on a cold, unforgiving trail on Thanksgiving day, instead of cozied up in my house, surrounded by the sounds and scents of the holiday, enjoying time with my kiddo and family.

I thought the holidays of past years; savored the memories of those particularly sweet, felt icy tears freeze on my cheeks when remembering a few that still sting. And then, in typical Amy fashion, I started questioning myself. For being lonely without my daughter, for being upset over things that I think shouldn't matter anymore, for not being good enough, for not being grateful enough. And then, thankfully, the authentic voice that I've learned to trust showed up, and over the next two or three miles, reminded me that its ok to miss those we love when they aren't here, that its ok to acknowledge that things are hard, and that I am good enough for whatever I need to be right now. With the comfort of that voice echoing through my thoughts, my mind started thinking again about the choices that led me there, and I decided to let some of this junk go.

We make choices based on what we know about ourselves and those in our lives and the world around us at the time, but it's always based on incomplete information. We can't know what might be around the next corner, or what someone else is really thinking, or how things might change overnight, so we take what we know and roll the dice. We make our choices and we take our chances and we get what we get. Sometimes we are handed the most painful, heart-wrenching experiences we can imagine and sometimes we are handed pure spirit and love wrapped up in a blond haired, blue eyed baby girl.

I thought more about this conclusion as I showered off the mud and slush of the ride, and prepared to meet some of my family for the traditional thanksgiving meal. If I could, would I make any different choices? Would I trade this somewhat lonely holiday for anything different, knowing that might mean a different life, different child, different circumstances?

I put away my helmet and caught sight of her winter coat and mittens. My shoes were set to rest by her singing guitar and favorite doll. I moved a small pink sock off the dining room table and gathered up her assorted sippy cups that are always strewn around the house. And I thought that the choices I made led me up to a life where I'm her mama, where I get the priviledge of finding the other sock and washing the sippy cups, but also teaching her right from wrong and how to read and how to love. I get the effusive hugs in the morning. I get to kiss away the hurts that come with learning to live. I get to hear her babble in her sleep and softly sigh as she begins to wake. For me, there is not other choice.

And for such a life, I am thankful.