heathercphipps Family, Gratitude, Grief, Happiness, Perseverence, Positivity, Uncategorized

Patience


There is this moment in the Lincoln Marathon (or half in my case) when you round the corner and can see Memorial Stadium. This feeling of relief washes over you. You’re almost there!

And then you climb 10th Street for what seems like forever. The size of the stadium is deceiving. You think you’re almost done, but you still have to finish mile 10…and 11…and 12…and 13.

Patience.

I have never been a patient person. When I have a task, I want it done immediately. When I have a phone message, I want it returned right away. When I have an idea, I want it to come to fruition instantly.

Honestly, it has served me well over the course of my lifetime. My house is usually clean. My office is usually tidy. I am efficient and effective in my work.

But the older I get, the more the big things in life seem to take patience.

My daughter is having triplets. My first grandchild will be grandchildren! Three of them. It is almost too hard to imagine.

The gender reveal was this weekend. She had known since Thursday (longer for 2 of them), but I had to wait until last night. It was a challenge.

Patience.

If the last year has taught us anything, it is that we cannot always control how long things take. Right now the virus is in control, and we can only mitigate its impact and be patient as the vaccine rolls out. This weekend though, my parents got their first vaccine.  I can’t overstate the sense of relief I felt when my dad sent me the picture.  I have been waiting for that moment for almost a year. 

Now I want to hug them and go to dinner with them and sit next to them on a couch. 

Patience.

Babies. Pandemics. Grief. Recovery. The older I get, the more I understand that the big things take time.

I have never been a patient person, but I’m working on it.  

 



heathercphipps Family, Gratitude, Grief, Positivity, Uncategorized

It’s Okay to be Sad

img_9677My darling daughters,

Yesterday was a hard day.  We lost our sweet Maggie, and just as we knew it would be, it was tough.  She was a great dog. She was a best friend to both of you over the years, and she will most definitely, permanently define your understanding of the love between a child and a pet.  You were lucky to have such an energetic, fun, forgiving dog.

kelsey145Kelsey, I’ll never forget her ability to move ever-so-slowly throughout the night in such a way that by morning I would find you tucked in a little ball in the corner of your bed because she had completely taken it over.  And you loved it. You never seemed to mind that she made your bed her bed.  Your stuffed animals became her stuffed animals.  Your pillows became her pillows.  She was your Maggie, Shadow, Kimperton, and you loved her and she loved you so completely.

image1-1Hunter, you loved her and spoiled her in ways I’ve never seen anyone do with their dog.  You taught her how to shop. She loved to ride in your car and get Starbucks and Dairy Queen with you.  To find her sleeping at the foot of your bed was evidence that even after years of routine, she had made a new best friend.

And she loved to camp.  So many nights spent trying not to step on her as she slept in the dark by the campfire.  So many games of fetch spent racing her best friend into the lake to see who could get the stick first.  It almost always resulted in the two of them swimming back together each holding one end of the stick in her mouth.

It was a sad day.  And it’s okay to be sad.

I don’t know if I’ve really ever told you that it’s okay to be sad.  You know that I believe more than anything that our attitude controls our lives.  Positivity is our greatest strength.  But it is possible to be positive and sad at the same time.  Sometimes life is hard.  Glennon Doyle Melton calls life “brutiful“, brutal and beautiful at the same time.  She writes and speaks eloquently about embracing the hard parts, sitting in the sadness and the pain, and using the experience to define who you are and what can never be taken from you.

hpim0306Maggie was taken from you.  It is sad, and it is hard.  But the memories of her, the unconditional love you learned from her,  cannot be taken from you.  Who you are because of your time with her cannot be taken from you.

Minutes after she passed, you both posted things on Facebook.  I wasn’t sure I wanted you to put your raw pain out there as quickly as you did.  But I am proud of you both for doing that.  I am proud of the way you jumped in with both feet to spend a last day with her- playing with her, loving her, crying over her, sitting in the sadness and the pain. I am proud of the way you put your sadness out there for the world to see.  I am inspired by the way you both said loudly “I am sad” and “Life is good” at the same time.

Your lives will not always be easy.  Real, painful, difficult things will happen.  It is absolutely okay be sad.  And it is possible to be sad and to know at the same time that life is really, really, good.