But, once I fell in love and started baking that little bun in my oven, everything changed. I wasn't *me* anymore. I was us, we, our, him and her. Then I caught a major bout of post-partum depression and it was a long, LONG road I thought I'd never recover from. I actually thought I was going to die. Don't get me wrong, I love my life, marriage and motherhood and wouldn't trade any of it. But, there was a part of *me* I thought I'd lost forever, and it hurt, burned and stung like nothing I'd ever felt before. So, though I started to rely on us, we, our, him and her, a hole inside kept growing and I became only wife and mommy....and I had no idea where the *me* went, or how to get it back.
Fast forward through some of life's typical highs and lows.
Something the hubs said regarding Saturday's New Medicine show suddenly struck me. A bulb shattered overhead. A siren went off. A buzzer sounded. Loud. And. Clear. It's not just about the band. Or the music. Or the lyrics. Or the Matt Brady eye candy. It's the way all of it, together, makes me feel....like *me* again.
New Medicine filled the empty, lonely, misunderstood space. The part that only music could translate. I don't like it, crave it, desire it. I NEED it. It's the same way I feel about writing. They connect with the missing piece in me, and I only hope my words might do that for you.
And because of the life they pumped back into those dull veins, the only time Candyland will ever show her face on this blog, is today. Because I want you to see the face of someone, once lost, reborn again. If you're ever in doubt, about what you're saying, conveying, or portraying, remember: the power of words, compassion, gratitude and human connection really do mean something. I've got proof.
Thank you, followers of old for reading my words and connecting through comment and email. Thank you, followers of new for finding me and deciding I'm worth your time. Thank you, New Medicine for finding *me.* Thank you hubs for allowing me to always be me, (whoever she is) up or down through all the years of us, we, our, him and her.
And thank you, Brady, for the beer, the hugs, and the continual inspiration re: J2W. You make me want to be a better person, just by knowing you. I look forward to drawing more awareness to J2W, together, this fall. To everyone who's lost the spark, the smiles, the memories, the joy and everything in between, remember:
"The strong resolve to fight"
My friends, what, in your life, salvaged the parts of you once forgotten?