2011

Today my husband taught me how to live again.

Screw you 2010!!!! @aaronvest is safe and on the ground with his family

Having spent 2010 in and out of the hospital has left me in a constant state of fear. Fear the kids are suffering. Fear he is suffering. Fear of being a burden. Fear of dying. Fear of living as a sick person. Fear of not being able to work. Fear of not being able to … fill-in-the-blank…

So, as he does, our patriarch made an example of himself and jumped out of an airplane.

If you know him, and know us, this works perfectly. Despite my usual bravado, I rely on my best friend and partner in life to keep me grounded. He knew this terrified me, despite the two of us having jumped together before. He knew I was terrified something would go wrong. And why wouldn’t it? EVERYTHING has gone wrong in 2010. Tempting fate with a skydive seemed like asking for trouble.

But he stood firm. And I stood tall. Gifting him the jump for his birthday to show I would support him, even if I was against it. That I would make sure he got his jump, even if it was the last thing I wanted him to do. After all, we do things for those we love that we might not do otherwise. We want to make them happy. We want to give them everything their heart desires. We want them to have it all- regardless of our own feelings.

I have proof of that laying next to me right now. My sweet puppy that came into our lives this year during the worst of times. The dog he swore I’d never have. The dog I so desperately wanted but knew I’d never get, because he really did not want one. The dog that sits here now, snuggled against my side, wet nose on my knee.

I’d do anything to make this man happy. He’d do anything to make me happy.

So off to the airport we went. And out of the plane he fell. On the ground I fretted. And fussed. And fidgeted.

And then…nothing went wrong.

His words?

We Win.

2010-

You took my organs. You took my confidence. You took my livlihood. You took my sanity. You took my normalcy. You nearly took my life.

It’s over. You are done.

I’m still here. I’m taking everything back…keep the organs. Think of them as my parting gift of a bloodied year that tested us in every way imaginable. But it’s ok…

We Win.

I am going to live again.

Thank you, Aaron,  for reminding me how to live. How to live with meaning, with fun, and without fear.

22 thoughts on “2011

  1. Susan

    Wow Erin. I think of you whenever I whine about anything. I really do. I think of all the crap you’ve been put through this past year and your strength amazes me. Piss off 2010 and bring it on 2011.

  2. Marla

    What a perfect way to end the year, on a most beautiful day!

    Thank YOU for sharing with us your heart, your spirit and your soul…I for one am much richer for your gifts.

    Wishing you a New Year filled with optimal health and blessings overflowing!
    .-= Marla´s last blog ..Life After Kids w- Devin Mills 112010 =-.

  3. Editdebs

    I’m so blessed to have found you and Aaron and your beautiful kids through Twitter and this blog. You both are so blessed to have each other. May 2011 be your best year ever!

  4. Pingback: Tweets that mention 2011 -- Topsy.com

  5. Amy from Resourceful Mommy

    Erin, for so many of us you have always been the example we turn to of how to live honestly, compassionately, thoughtfully, bravely and 2010 was no different. In your suffering you’ve taught us all so much and we’ve graciously accepted every lesson. Here’s to 2011 when you show us once again how to live WELL.
    .-= Amy from Resourceful Mommy´s last blog ..Best of Resourceful Disney- Tips for Taking Pre-Schoolers to Walt Disney World =-.

  6. BlairDC

    Erin, I totally teared up reading this. How blessed you are to have such a loving, supportive husband and family. Happy new year to you and yours! Here’s to hoping 2011 brings you even more sunshine!

    xoxo, @blairdc

  7. Kyle

    You’re an inspiration. I hate 2010 along with you as well. My mother (49 years old) was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer in July of 2010. She’s been fighting it, but it’s tough. It feels like the whole family has gotten cancer. It’s really nice to see other’s pulling through really hard times.

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