3/30 A Three Part Day

A three part day.

Part 1: Morning

My dad and sister left.

I was better this time with Sara leaving - I mean it always sucks but because I was more able, I think I felt stronger emotionally too (plus of course, my momma stayed).

Sara being here is how I wish our lives ended up. 

My dad, for the longest time, had all 5(!) of his sisters local to each other- 4 of them still are to this day!

My mom has 2 out of her 3 siblings local to her. My mom and her sister, my Aunt Patty, have weekly, if not daily, get togethers. They can spontaneously decide to go out to dinner, or run errands, or just stop over at each other's houses. 

I want that  ðŸ˜¢

I have zero siblings local. I have a sibling in France, one in Pittsburgh, and one in upstate NY.  

The only one that I could ever remotely see being close is Kevie, as he and his wife, Michelle, for a period of time lived in the Lehigh Valley and really liked it...but seeeing as they recently purchased a home in the French countryside...it may be a bit before (IF) they permanently return stateside. 









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Part 2: Football

A nice distraction from my sissy and dad leaving was Logan's first 7v7 game!

Such a fun game to watch - it reminds me so much of when I played 7's rugby.

It is fast-paced and high-intensity, but overall, it is a good time for players and fans!



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Part 3: Misery wants to be left alone.


Texts, calls, in-person conversations...always:


"How are you?"


"I’m good.... 🙂 "

"I’m alright...☺️"

"I’m sore...🫤"

Typically, the same response on my end. An almost automatic response.


But this evening, truly...

I don’t know how I am. 

I’m good...mostly...


...I guess. 


But no, I'm not.

I am irritable to those who care about me the most, as I feel most vulnerable with them.

And I don’t want to crack.


I’m now crying for my loss of parts of my life that I won’t be able to revisit for months. 

(I don't know how I got here but nonetheless, here we are.)


All. My. Hard work. 


"But why do you even want to lift heavy weights?"


Because I can.
Because strong makes me feel good.

Because moving heavy shit makes me feel like me


Now I look in the mirror and I see this misshapen, swollen, bruised, soft body…


I don’t even care about losing my boobs.
I don’t care that one is deflated right now and the other isn’t. 
I don't care how that part of me looks. If all goes well, that will be reconstructed in due time.  


It's just, I’ve lost a part of me I’ve struggled so hard to find year after year, once I left the competitive sports world. 


I found it again about a year and a half ago and worked my butt off to get where I was....and now...for what?


Yes, yes. I know that I am in a better spot because of all that hard work, but right now I want to feel negative and be mournful.


And now I feel lost in my sorrow, and I want to be alone. 


"Heather?"

"Heather??"

"Heather???"

"Mommm??"

"Mommy???"


I hear them calling for me. 

I do. 


But right now, all I can do is hide. 

Close the doors to my office.

Grab a blanket.

Curl up.

And silently sob. 


I'll be out shortly...



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