We got to talking about where she calls "home" (out in the sticks in Pennsylvania), her children (SIX!), her weight loss success story (over 100 lbs!) and she just brushed over her severely broken heart, no details. Then came the questions about me. It was the nail tech, actually, who asked how many children I had. I told them I had two, starting with Keira, "and my son died shortly after he was born in 2009." For some reason, the look of shock and pity was different from this woman. It was like she had gotten to know me and then had this shocking revelation. She couldn't believe that I had been through something like that, given my personality. I've been dwelling on this since it happened five days ago. I've been really down in the last year or so, wondering who I had become between losing my first child, quitting my job, having another child, moving to a new place with no friends... I've kind of had a bit of an identity crisis! But the look she gave me felt like she saw the old Brittany, then turned the page to find a twist in the story. I feel like who she saw, was more ME than I'd felt that I was in so long. Gosh, does that even make sense? When I look in the mirror, I see a broken, shattered version of myself. I don't know how to put the pieces back together to even resemble what used to be there...carefree, spirited, strong-willed, unbreakable. I've lost a lot of that vigor in the last couple of years. Like I've been running on fumes, never filling my tank. Jim used to tell me that his favorite thing about me was that he could put me in a room full of strangers, and I'd leave with new best friends. My charm, I guess. I'm not sure what struck my mood on Sunday, but the old Brittany peeked out from hiding. I missed her.
Thimbleberry by Sinful Colors.