I'm sitting under the bright kitchen light (the one I especially hate), staring out the window at the fog. We get a lot of fog here. Maybe it's affecting me, because I still don't know where to start telling my story. Oh, I thought I did before in all those blog posts. No, that's not my story. The story comes after that, I now realize. So, I'll start with a different story, because that's what I do best.
In the last couple of years, after my type 1 diabetes diagnosis in particular, I have come to believe that I truly was born under a lucky star.
I know, that sounds super cheesy and cliché, but hear me out.
[Here is where I want you to open a new tab and listen to this song for me. And carefully so. The random guy who made a video with it did a nice job, too.]
It is the first band whose CD I ever bought ("the innocence mission"). They're from Amish country (but not Amish) in Lancaster, Pennsylvania and this song is from their lullaby album. Their music brought me a lot of hope when I was an olive-skinned, lanky, boyish looking 14 year old girl growing up in Pennsylvania myself. With every album they produced after that first one I bought in 1995, they have continued to bring me hope.
somewhere a star shines for everyone
somewhere one's shining for me
no matter how rich or poor you are
if you are born with the lucky star
somewhere a star shines for everyone
no matter who you believe
somewhere a star shines for me.
Now, some might say that sounds a little naive and egotistical to say. But the truth is, I really believe it now. I know too much now. Too many corners backed into. Too many near-misses. And too many losses.
But I made it. And my life is so rich and full of so much love now that I sometimes don't know what to do with myself. Corny, again, I know. But it's the truth. I'm not trying to tell you that now I know God exists. No, I don't really think that Someone was watching over me. No, I don't really understand how so much happened and I came out of it in one piece---inside or out. But I did. And I shined. For the first time in my life, I'm not going to be self-deprecating.
And I know it was my star. My little, lucky star.
There was one I'd look at in particular every night from my window before bed. She sat right above the old cherry blossom tree's top left branch, creating an even deeper shadow in the midnight backdrop. Did I wish on it? Of course I did. And all I ever wanted was...the answer to that all-encompassing word: everything.
But now I know that all those years of worrying and anxiety and trying to be perfect and please every damn person I met...it was all because I just wanted to fill that hole in my heart. That big, fucking, gaping hole that she left.
And somehow, some way, this great and glorious globe heard me. The ocean swelled up and enveloped me and took everything because she knew I was genuine and gave it back to me tenfold.
I don't know why this great earth gave me such a lucky star, brightening itself as an internal guide, pulling my self-worth up at the most important times, bringing me to people and places when I needed them most. But she did. And it turns out, I didn't want everything. I just wanted to matter. I wanted to stop feeling like I was taking up space that wasn't mine.
And so I want my first post about all this to just say thank you. For the tiniest spark that always lit my path the entire way, sometimes in the dark, all alone: in a neonatal crib, toxic strangers' arms, with the only mother, the legal mother, near the wrong boyfriends', the lost girlfriends, and the houses that never felt like home.
Somewhere a star shines for me. And she burns brightly--brighter than she ever did, because now I see why she shined.