Thursday, February 13, 2014

Learning to sing a new song

One of my New Year Resolutions this year was to scan all my old, non-digital pictures & get them backed up. Also - I'm transferring videos of my own and my parents to digital copies. 

It's been kind of fun and humorous to see the changes as I scan the years on by. Different friends, hairstyles, clothing, dates, classes, etc.  I was blessed to have good growing up years. Something, though, has been disturbing as I look at all the pictures and video.

It's me. 

It's Heidi.

The one that is smiling out from that picture... her. See that twinkle in her eye? Her excitement about life? Her hunger for new adventures? 

I miss her. I'm not sure exactly where she has gone. Have I lost her forever? Some days I think I have. I mentioned in this post that once Link died, I became a new person. It's completely true. I read a quote recently that basically said when someone close to you dies, you have to grieve two people - the person that died and the person you used to be.   I've lately been struggling with this new Heidi. I'm not sure if I can explain it. I want to be happy. I want to find joy. I want to enjoy life more than I ever have with my knowledge of how absolutely precious and fragile it is. I want to find a mix between that old, joyful  Heidi who is ready for adventure and challenge and this new one that has so much more wisdom and empathy. I wish I knew how. 

The other day as I was putting away laundry, I heard a song from the My Turn on Earth soundtrack & it stayed with me.  Here's a piece of it:

What does it take to make a family?
One that won’t break when the bumps come along.
What does it take to make a family?
People who work and love and laugh,people who sing a song.

What does it take to make a family?
One that is there even when you are wrong.
What does it take to make a family?
People who all forgive and help, People who sing a song.

Sing to yourself or sing out loud.
Sing very low or high.
Sing when you think the world’s just great
Sing when you think you’ll cry. 

What does it take to make a family?
One that will last more than just this life long. 
What does it take to make a family?
People who love eternally, People who sing a song.

And it just really hit me... I haven't been singing. That's it. I just haven't. I have listened to songs. I enjoy them. I like to listen to other people singing them, but I've stopped singing. I've sat on the sidelines and half-smiled. I've watched as Jason takes the girls sledding, swimming, etc, and I've stayed behind. It is nice sometimes to have that quiet. Time when I can cry and hurt. But I feel like my family has had to sing without me a lot. I've lost my song and I need to learn how to sing again. And how to smile a real, genuine smile again. 

I know it will still take some figuring out, but I am trying. I'm trying to actually, truly sing out loud. I'm trying to be there WITH my children as they sing their songs and sing along. It's going to take courage. It's going to take prayer to figure out how to sing this NEW song - different, more solemn, maybe, but truly joyful. My mom actually just sent me this song - seems to be there perfect one to start with!! (Thanks mom!)


Trish said...

What a beautiful post and reminder of the influence of music! Not just listening but singing out loud can be SO theraputic! I love you sister!

Patricia Potts said...

What an amazing, insightful, post. Love you Heidi

Lena Baron said...

Oh my precious sister!! I knew I needed to log on to my blog and check in. Now I know why. Thank you! I am going to try and write tonight. Hopefully I will be able to get things out clearly. But just know that you are not alone and though the journey may feel endless there will be rays of light along the way. And we will find ourselves. I read this blog post right before yours. I don't think it's a coincidence. And she's going to the Kanab Women's Forum. I would HIGHLY recommend you find a way to go listen to her!! I Love you! Your never far from my thoughts!!

prayingformyrainbow said...

I feel the same way. As if I will never find the old me. The happy me. And I guess I have focused my quest for happiness in the desire to have a rainbow baby, as if, when said baby appeared, it would make me happy again. But perhaps, even that would not change me, for a new baby would never be Anneliese.