Snowflake stars

Before bed last night, my daughter had sweetly asked if we could go out for breakfast together before school. Just us.

The guys were spending the night at elk hunting camp and the opportunity for a girls date was being presented.

I told her I’d love to go, but would have to see how I felt in the morning and could decide then.

But upon waking I noticed the familiar feeling in my body. A feeling those who have experienced chronic illness are sure to understand. A bit of agonizing dread and frustration mixed together with surrender.

Even though today started with a rough round of symptoms that seem to plaque most of my mornings, I didn’t want to stay home.

How on earth could I refuse an invitation from the cutest little angel face?

So I decided to go, even though I couldn’t hear clearly or taste anything at all. Her smile filled my spirit and the food on my plate didn’t even matter.

She ordered biscuits and gravy with a hot chocolate that came perfectly frothed. And I got an omelette with spinach and Swiss cheese. It was a lovely moment of being together and I felt so happy to be making a memory with her. Then off to school she went with a cute pep in her step. A little mother daughter bonding for the win.

Afterwards I sat in my car for a minute, considered canceling my plans to instead go home and crawl back into my bed, like usual. But I am bored with being sick. I am tired of retreating from life and hiding in isolation. Waiting to get better. I miss being a part of something bigger, a community, a scene outside of my own.

So on went my gloves, scarf and coat and off I went to enjoy the first frigid mountain day we have had this fall. Tissues in hand.

The grass was coated in lacy frost. The river offered gifts of frozen bubbles dancing along its banks while the brown leaves showed off their collections of white baby stars.

Snowflake stars.

I met a beautiful new friend for the second time and we sat together in the cafe window, sipping sunrise lattes and chatting as if we were old friends.

Maybe we are….

The day is ending as I draw myself a baking soda bath with healing oils and a splash of vinegar.

The radio is singing a song with lyrics I hadn’t ever really paid close attention to, but seem appropriate for the turn of events I witnessed in myself today. And I feel happy for honoring my heart and pushing through my symptoms in the pursuit of the life that I wish for.

“Be careful what you wish for for you might just get it all…..

You might just get it all.”