Road Maps

When I was just a little girl, my dad made one of the biggest decisions of his life. As a single parent and having nothing left to lose, he drove us across the country to start over. All I remember bringing was a small embroidered nap sack with an Aztec design on it, and inside it held my few rubber lion king toys. I spent the duration of the week-long drive playing with those toys on a tarred-up dashboard and hot leather seats pointing out birds on the road up ahead so my father wouldn’t hit them. “Nicole you have the eyes of an eagle,” my father would say as we drove down the highway. Sometimes, I would spot those birds miles before my father could even make them out at all and even with my keen vision, I didn’t see the courage that move must have taken my father until much later in life.

About 6 months ago, I re-lived this experience and moved my daughter and I across the country back to the area in which I was born and had started my journey on this Earth. I wanted to give her that same start at a new life, and it was during that time that I came to understand the feelings my father must have experienced leaving everything familiar behind simply for a chance. I came here in much the same fashion, with a suitcase and a guitar, and carrying only hope. Now, still a single mother, and still carrying that hope, I start all over again.

Today while out with my daughter we were sitting in a field of flowers looking at butterflies when she was stung by a wasp. Although it was trivial, I chose to use this as a teaching moment. As she began to cry, I looked her in the eyes and told her the pain would soon pass as all pain does – “But the venom hurts me mom” … yes it certainly does but it also lets you know you are alive. I told her; pain is a reminder our body gives us. It reminds us of experiences and lessons to learn to help give us the opportunity and ability to make sure revisiting that same pain is less likely to occur. In that moment, I taught myself that the pain I have been experiencing is both beneficial and needed. This pain, is only a reminder of things I have faced before.

With every new pain comes new strength.

I forget sometimes to be grateful for the life experiences I have had, because, without them I wouldn’t be so strong. When my daughter reaches for my hand and looks up at me, I see myself and the comfort I felt with my father. I knew that as long as he held my hand that his strength would surge through my fingers and everything would always be ok. I think that was the only time in my life I have ever felt grounded. I know now, that that surging sensation was just my own strength coursing through my blood, and every heart beat has only been a reminder.

Recently, I have not felt that courage and have become wholly dependent on having that hand to hold. I don’t think it is because I felt I needed it, but rather I felt secure in knowing that it was there if I should reach for it, and it offered me a level of comfort I have not felt for most of my life. I will always carry those moments with me.

Yesterday, I made the difficult choice to do what was needed and not what I wanted. I had to let go of that safety net, the hands I wanted so desperately to hold. Giving the only gift I could think to give, and at a great loss to myself. But sometimes, we have to do what is hard and not what is easy for the people we love, and that takes a strength I have yet to ever see encompassed into words.

Remember your courage, if not for yourself then for the people you love most.

Find your resiliency, and pay attention to the lessons you have lived through.

Most importantly, the pain you feel is not permanent, it is only giving you that chance for change.