Vacation Paradox, Part II

Over the last few months, I've shared a lot about the pain I and others have gone through and are going through. There are several reasons I've been doing this. First, it seems to help me a LOT. Secondly, from what I'm hearing it's helping others a lot as well. I feel like there may be people reading this now or some time later who is going through something similar, and when they read some of the posts maybe they'll feel like they're not as alone in what they're going through, or that some of their own experiences make sense contextualized with someone else's. Who knows, I just want this to help someone else, if possible. Plus, I plan to save all of this one day for Rowan, so that she can read what we went through and add it to her own experience when she gets older (if she's interested, that is).

But one of the things I realized is that because this blog is focused on pain, that's all you ever see in my life. And there is a lot of that, make no mistake. But all of life is NOT pain. Not even my life right now. This mini vacation I just took with Rowan is an example of that.

"C'mon, Daddy, let's do this again!"

In my post the other day, I recalled so many activities we did that were like deja vu of things we'd done in Florida, and I talked about how tough that was. Well yesterday was a very different day. We filled it with some new stuff, and there were no deja vu moments to be found. In fact, we discovered that Rowan has a deep affinity for... bumper cars! Oh yes, my sweet little angel has a rough streak in her as well (she comes by it naturally!). "Get THAT one, Daddy!!!" she'd yell, pointing at yet another soon-to-be victim of our rampaging in the bumper car venue. We rode them at least a dozen times, probably more, throughout the day, and only about 15 minutes before they closed did Rowan finally seem satisfied that we'd caused enough carnage. I've rarely been as proud as a father. :)

The point is, we had a good day. We had fun, laughed a LOT, and really enjoyed ourselves and each other. Days like this are too few right now, but that makes them all the more precious. I will remember yesterday for a long time, because it was filled with the kind of memories I've set out to try and create for Rowan. I want her to know that the pain of her mommy dying may be there with her all the time, but that doesn't mean that it has to rule us every minute. I want her to see that you can still live, enjoying life and the experiences that it offers. You can still find those moments when laughter takes over and you giggle yourself silly because some other daddy and his little girl just got blind-sided by the psychotic bald guy and his equally maniacal (while clad in pink kitty-cat raincoat) three year old daughter who's now yelling and pointing at another hapless victim, "Go get THAT one now, Daddy!!!"