I recognize that there’s been a lapse in posts. I’ve been asked time and time again what is happening with MollyROCK, and why I’ve been so quiet. Here’s the short answer:
My hands have been otherwise occupied, and there’s been little dexterity left to type. As many of you know, the subject of my last posts ended in our worst fears being realized. Lamar was laid to rest on March 5. My hands were busy holding my loved ones’ hands for the first quarter of the year. As I had to assimilate back into the real wold, my hands were busy writing lesson plans, IEPs , grading, spotting cheer stunts, and attempting to rest my head upon them at night.
The shock and turmoil of Lamar’s disappearance, the search, and the answers kept my hands busy, and then they, along with my body and mind, were paralyzed in the aftershock. Although I tried to guard my heart from the slip backs into deep grief that can occur when tragedy strikes, my stubborn side was overpowered. I kept my hands busy catching up with my most-dos, but I couldn’t connect my head, heart, and hands to give myself 100% to MollyROCK. While I am the founder, PR person, and program director who desperately wants to get Molly’s story out, I can’t ignore the basis in which my passions lie. I am a sister who is grieving. I’m a person who has been shocked to find the last few months have felt like a 100 mile leap backward in this world I am navigating without her. I struggle to accept the truth with which I have lived for 6 years, 4 months, and 17 days. In fact, the realities seem to be fresh knife wounds each day, when in theory, I should be comfortable in this new skin.
It’s ugly, but it’s real. It’s radical to admit that I am stuck in this place of being paralyzed by my grief. It’s a conversation that I’d rather not have. I want to be her champion and her proxy. I am, and I will be. There’s been work and progress with MollyROCK goals, but I’m not ready to share. Instead, I thank you for allowing me time. Thank you for still being supportive. Thank you for loving me these last few months.
A wise advisor recently told me to give up my feelings of guilt for not being strong enough right now. She reminded me that Molly’s feelings of guilt led us to this place. So, my charge to you all is that you let go of the guilt. Who you are, where you are, is more than enough. I’m certain that there is someone in your life who needs to hear this too. A mom, a dad, a brother, a colleague, your child, your student, the lady at McDonald’s who gives you your Diet Coke, your presidential candidate. (Well maybe instead of “you’re enough,” the last one needs to hear, “that’s enough.”)
Enough. It’s a funny looking word to all of us who spend our days trying to teach kids to read…
More than meat loves salt,