It is a phrase used often. It’s meaning is self explanatory: when you’re doing something, give it everything you’ve got, or don’t bother….
It has been noted as one of my best qualities. People have said it is one of my shining characteristics. Family has told me it’s what they love about me, and others close to me have said it is something that makes me sparkle.
But, it has also been noted as my biggest downfall, my worst flaw, my largest obstacle and what annoys people most about me.
It is my passion. It is the drive and intensity that accompanies anything I set my sights on and decide to go after. It keeps me awake at night and has even had me described as “relentless” at times.
It is not being stubborn or argumentative or unwilling to compromise, it’s different than that. But it has the same strength.
I had that passion when I was in school, and when I worked with children and their families. I have it when I run, or decorate, or create, or organize or manage.
I also have it in my relationships; when I care, or comfort, or support, or engage or love.
I can be an intense person to have as a daughter, wife, sister, friend, or, yes, probably my most intense relationship…the one I find the most passion for, is that of a mother.
I love my children, big. The same intense force that blows the rest of my life runs deeply here as well. It’s good. And it’s bad. And it’s, well, it just IS.
I’m taking an existential leap, but I wonder if love and pain walk hand in hand. And not just for me, for everyone that loves, and that hurts.
I wonder if the more we care, and love in a relationship with someone directly correlates to our level of measurable (or unmeasurable) pain when that relationship is severed or drastically altered.
I think that the same love that would drive us to the ends of the earth for someone, actually originates from the same place as the pain when we have to say goodbye. I wonder if love is the opposite side of the barest pain, and to love someone with great passion and intensity and energy means opening your heart to a bigger ache…
So loving big, may mean hurting big some day. I know the love, and I know the pain…
I’ll take my chances, even with that knowledge.
When it comes to loving,
I’ll go big, instead of going home,
every single time.
with all that love, and passion, and intensity for each of you tonight, d
A side note tonight…
Some of you have been ‘scared’ to approach me. Some of you are scared to speak to me about Caitlin. I only know because you’ve told me this. I know you don’t want to make me cry, and I often do when you approach me, introduce yourself, and say Caitlin’s name.
But please know this…
The pain that I have from watching my daughter die often has me standing close to an edge, and the ground is starting to crack and crumble away underneath my feet. I often will not cry when I am alone, because I am terrified I won’t be able to stop. I won’t cry by myself, because I may slip into that big black hole that I can’t escape. I work hard not to cry when no one is around, because the dragon’s fire just may burn me this time.
When you say hello, and talk to me about Caitlin, I find a place that is safe, secure, and a place where I can cry and not lose my footing, or get lost in space, or burned by fire. It is a place where you keep me from the dangers of crying forever, and ever and ever.
I don’t have to cry all the time. But, when I do, please don’t be afraid that YOU may make me cry…
I am sad, I will cry, but because Caitlin died, not because you spoke to me or said her name.
Hearing her name makes me cry because I miss her, but underneath those tears is a joy that is unexplainable, you see, talking about her means you haven’t forgotten her…
and you recognize that I haven’t either.
all my love…
…and thanks to those who surround me, insulate me and love me, and allow my tears to flow without judgement or criticism or running away…