Today is my dad’s birthday.

Most days since his passing I have done my very best to live life, embrace my wonderful memories, and not let the feelings of loss overwhelm my feelings of joy.  Today was not one of those days.

In addition to being my dad’s birthday, it also happened to be the funeral and celebration of life for a family friend.  He lived across the street from us growing up and was a beloved man of the neighborhood.  He was friends with my dad and I was friends with his daughters.

On occasion my dad drove the four of us girls to high school in the morning.  My dad would pull up to the busy drop off area where all the kids were unloading from the school buses.  He'd slide open the van door and yell, “Now GET OUT and NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!!!”  It was embarrassing for Kimmy and I, but mortifying for our two friends. 

Their dad, although a bit of a jokester himself, always greeted us with a smile whenever we came over for a playdate.  While playing in their basement, he served us the most delicious handmade crepes I’d ever tasted.  I have thought about those crepes many times over the years. 

Today, I sat in the pews of the Catholic Church with tears streaming down my face.  I watched his family walk in a procession behind the casket, and my heart ached for their loss in ways I have trouble articulating. I can only say I felt their loss, my loss, our loss within the deepest part of my soul.

As I was leaving the church I saw my dad’s best friend who was also there to pay his respects to their dear neighborhood friend.   The loss felt profound.  We both felt it.    I cried more than I’ve cried in months.  My dad's friend held my hand and gave me a hug as we let the loss wash over us.  

I was missing my dad.  He was missing his friends.

In the priest's homily today, he said we will see our loved ones again.  He said it is through our memories and our joy we remain connected. This belief gives me me the strength and comfort I need to focus on life, and not loss.  

But some days there is sorrow.  Some days we weep.  Everyday I miss my daddy's hug.

Today is my dad’s birthday.  Yet, I feel like it was my dad who gave ME a gift.  The embrace I received from his dear friend felt like the closest thing to a hug from my own dad.   It was the best hug I've received in a very long time.

Grieving, yet always grateful.

When my kids were little and I gave them a helium balloon, without fail the string would escape their grasp only to float away high up into the sky.  I would see the surprise register on their tender face and then the tears well up in their eyes as they realized their beloved balloon was gone forever.  As their mom and someone who wanted to heal all their wounds, I told my kids it was okay.  I told them it was a very loving and generous gesture to release their balloon.  It was a gift for the angels.

I was reminded of this today on Ryanne’s 16th birthday.  My dog and I waited outside her school to surprise her with flowers and helium balloons attached to his collar.  As soon as Milo heard Ryanne’s voice he took off like a madman to greet her.  In the process one of the balloon strings tangled itself around the side mirror, broke off and flew away.  As she and I watched it go, I was reminded of the angels and how today they get to celebrate with me.

What a day to celebrate!!!  My baby is 16 years old.  It seems like just yesterday we took Austin out to dinner on the eve of Ryanne’s birthday.  It would be the last day we were a family of three.   I was as excited as a five year old on Christmas Eve who still believes in Santa.  I had a 7 am appointment the next morning to meet my second child. 

When the doctor pulled her out of my womb she was this glorious 10 lb 6 oz baby.   It was no wonder my previous C-section scar ached for the last several weeks of my pregnancy.  My dad would jokingly say how the hospital needed to send her home with a training bra. 

She was a wonderful baby.  She was calm and easy going.  She smiled all the time, even when she had an upset tummy.  Inevitably after every meal she would spit up everything she had just consumed.  When we visited my parents in their all-white home my mom would tell me “Don’t bring her on the carpet.  Keep her on the tile.”  Nice mom.  :)

As Ryanne grew into her toddler years she developed some spunk and became tough as nails.  When she fell down and hit her head on the wall everyone waited for the toddler wail, but she would only shake her head and continue on without pause.

A few things occurred at the end of the year that caused me to pause and reflect upon 2015.  The first occurrence happened late in December while I was on a morning run.  I began thinking of all the goals I had wanted to accomplish in 2015, but hadn’t.  You see, every Monday I write a list of ten goals.  I write them down without reflecting on what I wrote the previous week.  Sometimes this means items falls off my list, but it always mean the important stuff remains.  The benefits of this method far outweigh any negatives.  However, the one negative presented itself that morning on my run.  Because there are always ten things on my list, I never have the satisfaction of crossing stuff off.  For a brief moment during my run I was focused on all the things left unaccomplished.  Towards the end of the run I decided to read the blog I wrote on 1/1/15 to see what I had hoped to accomplish this year.  
 
The crazy thing is, not only did I accomplish most of my ten goals for 2015, but the year entailed so many more blessings, accomplishments and um….other happenings I hadn’t anticipated. 

Anyone remember my facial nightmare that was perioral dermatitis?  Oh, I do!  What about the hours and hours my family came together to clean out my parent’s condo and their home in Chelan?  The truckloads and truckloads taken to Goodwill?  My sibling’s sure as heck do.  (Afterwards my brother Jeff, the ironman triathlete, had trouble walking for days.)  As hard as those moments were physically and emotionally…my love and admiration for my family grew exponentially during those times. 

Without family, the memories and the successes would feel a little empty.  Which brings me to the second occurrence which caused me to reflect upon 2015.  I stood at my parent’s graveside the morning of Christmas Eve.  It was a beautiful sunny, but cold morning.  The sky was bright blue as I watched the planes depart from Sea-Tac airport and fly above.  I recalled how my mom said she picked this plot of land because she liked the idea of being close to a place where people were traveling the world or coming home. 

A few tears ran down my face as my heart ached for what I was missing.  Oh how I wished they could join us that evening for the ‘normal’ Crosby festivities on Christmas Eve.  After all, this year's Christmas Eve celebration included a Crosby Pageant in which everyone had to flaunt their stuff as we shared the most embarrassing moments in each of our lives.  Let's just say there was a lot of talk about incontinence, toenails and  well...the rest is a secret.  

As I stood at my parent's grave for the first time in a very long time I felt I could miss them and still look forward to what is to come.  I felt so blessed in that moment, more so than I’ve ever felt.

The year had delivered so many beautiful things.  Ryan and my trip to New Zealand was a trip of a lifetime.  Our family visited the ocean on the Oregon coast (twice).  We went paint-balling as a family to celebrate the fathers in our lives.  (What says 'we love you' more than back spasms and bruising to last a week??)  My sister and I happened upon Wanderlust, a yoga retreat in Whistler, which inspired so many changes to come.  Chelan in the summertime was, as usual, a special place for our family.  The heartbreak and fear we felt a few weeks later when it was being ravaged by deadly fires is indescribable.  God graced our family home in Chelan so we could all come together to close out the year by playing in the snow. 

The year was not only full of birthday parties, holidays and travels.  It also included all the domestic stuff that’s a part of everyday life, but no one really chooses to expose on social media.  There were bills to be paid, yards to be cleaned, doctors to visit, tears to be shed, arguments to be had, resolutions to be solved and goals to be accomplished.

It was not all roses and rainbows, sometimes it was a knock down fight to keep moving forward, but I will say our efforts and the chances we took definitely helped us to accomplish a lot.  Austin attended his first high school dance, and Ryanne received choir member of the year as a freshman.  Ryanne also performed in the Adam’s Family Musical at the Renton Civic Theatre.  My husband, Ryan,  ran a total of 1,721 miles which included seven races, two PR’s and seven times standing on the podium.  One of the happiest moments for me as a mom (and guardian of the family WHIP) is Austin being accepted to college.  Words cannot describe how it feels as a parent to know your son will be moving out….I mean, moving forward towards his dreams.

For a while I was feeling like a little bit of an underachiever since my biggest accomplishment up until December was that one time I said ‘NO’ to a fifth cookie.  However, I finally stepped up my game and threw my name up onto the wall when I received my 200 Hour Yoga Teacher Training Certificate.  I’m more proud of this than almost anything else I’ve achieved in my life.  It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.  It broke me down and challenged me in unforeseen ways. 
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The year of 2015 was a big year for our family, and I decided to memorialize it by creating the video posted below.  I hope you enjoy!!  I also hope you hear the message, it’s important to reflect on what you achieved before you beat yourself up on what was left undone.  Take glory in your accomplishments, embrace the beautiful memories and pause before you look ahead.  

Oh...and it goes without saying......GOOOO HAWKS!!!!