Is that new?

After a long, hard winter, there was a moment when I remembered how to smile. (Genuinely smile.) It was the first time I made a joke. (A self reflective joke.) I call this progress.

Someone offering a sincere compliment posed the question, "Is that new?" That's all it took. The words just came out. Well, actually there were no words at first. Laughter. Bubbling up laughter from the pit of my stomach. Muscles in my abdomen that had not been used for two months and counting. There it was. Laughter. And my answer, "Why yes, yes it is. Everything is new--head to toe. Even the underwear. (Wink)"

The day went forth, continued. Five more people asked the same question: "Is that new?" Each time? Each and every time I smiled, gave a hearty laugh and offered the same carefree answer.

You see, it's true. From head to toe it is new. Except the glasses and those few pairs of shoes that were salvageable. I wish I had that same response with that same spirit each time someone inquires or compliments. More often than not, I just offer a quite "yes." Don't get me wrong. At least I appear put together enough for people to ask and occasionally offer a compliment. For that I am grateful.

The truth, if I may? I miss my things. Please (for all that is good and holy in the world) don't tell me they are just things. I know this. I do. But they were my things. And I really liked my things because they offered me comfort, security, and stability. Yes, even those green peep-toe sandals I pull out around easter.

I miss what was. And for once, new things are not always better. My old things...my gone things...my no-more-mine things were part of my identity. They reflected my personality...my being...me. They are gone. If you haven't clued in yet, I am not just talking about clothes.

I am left with new things. New things that were bought in a rush and without a clear mind. (Imagining the silver and gold cardigan that is still yet to be worn. But hey, I got it for $8?) New things that are black and gray and navy...not green and blue and purple. Yes, I am starting to replenish my wardrobe with some brighter hues of Spring. Most days though, I am drawn to the blacks and grays.

Friends, if you are still out there, I miss...my clothes, my purses, my books, my couch, my jewelry, my memories. I miss what was...and find myself trying to understand what is. What is...well, it does not offer the same comfort and security I once knew. That is why I am not there yet. That is why I am not the happy, hopeful, and joyful person you may remember. The trauma and despair have changed me. Probably forever.

Each day I get out of bed. (Still the hardest decision I make each day.) I put on what is new. I go forth into my day missing what was, knowing newness surrounds me...and live. Sad, anticipating hope, despairing, and yet even experiencing a few moments of carefree laughter are who I am now.

Is that new? Yep. And I hate it.

BEAT

*For those reading and unclear about the details surrounding the above post, I experienced an apartment fire on January 20. It started in my bedroom, where I woke up to it spreading to my bed. I was able to get out of the apartment with very little physical injury. The fire and smoke damage did destroy most of my belongings. Since then there have been other personal and professional tragedies. When people ask how I am, I give three answers. "I'm hanging in there." "I got out of bed this morning." And "I'm in process." This post is about the process, hanging in there, and getting out of bed.