perspective

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This isn’t the first time I’ve cried for a stranger, but this one hit me hard. Through Instagram, I saw bits of myself, or the version of myself that I aspire to be, in a fellow wedding planner 2000 miles away. Her two littles are the exact same age as mine – 4 and 1. Yesterday, she passed away from the cancer that was diagnosed, as her baby was born, not much more than a year ago. I am heartbroken for a complete stranger and her family. I am shaken to the core. And… I feel a little ridiculous about how I have been impacted by someone I never knew.

It’s no secret that social media is typically a carefully curated and filtered highlight reel that can often gloss over the realities of life. {I am certainly guilty of posting pictures that conveniently crop out the giant pile of laundry that seems to reappear immediately after I get it under control.} There are several people I follow on Instagram and I glance at their photos thinking that their lives really are just one constant highlight reel. Even though I know that’s far from the truth, my mind’s eye tricks me into seeing a perfect photo as a representation of overall perfection, giving me major life goals. In Tori’s feed, that’s exactly what I saw, with the added bonus of seeing slight parallels between us in our careers and children. Until I read about her illness. All of a sudden all of those perfect images that I’ve been re-scrolling through have a different meaning. I think about what she must have been thinking as she held onto her babies, made sure that she was in front of the camera with them, creating something for them to look back on.

When I think about the struggles we all face each day – laundry, stress, money, work, etc. – it all pales in comparison to the struggle of someone fighting to just live. Fighting to be there as their children grow. Fighting for the ability to carpe diem. Our lives are already beautiful, no matter how much they actually line up with the images we post. Even in rubble, there is beauty simply because we woke up today and have breath in our lungs. Right now, I have tears in my eyes for the emotions I’m feeling, joy in my heart for my children, stress for my to do list, a pile of laundry that needs to be folded and a splinter in my foot. It’s just a standard, unremarkable day, but I’m here.

What do I hope to accomplish by writing this? I want to put it out there as a reminder to myself to really live and be in the moment. I want to hold my children so close that my heart might burst. {Because just writing this now it feels like it could burst in the form of tears all over my laptop, so a group hug seems like better use of that feeling!} I want to tell my husband all of the things that he means to me more than I tell him about the things we need to do around the house. I want to make sure that the people I care about know that I love them, even the people that I’ve drifted from. I want to have more adventures, travels, explorations and experiences and not let the weekly monotony envelope me.

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One of the moments that put my life into perspective. Jen Lynne Photography

So, #fortori, I promise to take advantage of the now; to not wait for a more convenient time. I promise to remember, no matter how rattled I might feel or how much coffee I may need, each moment is fleeting. I promise to live each day with purpose and to fill my moments with zest and light.

https://www.gofundme.com/helpingthehendrixs

 

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