I think I see a rainbow

I must say my journey to Colorado Springs from San Diego been an adventurous one. I lost my single life, my friends, my coworkers, my comfort zones, my independence, my beach, and my grandmother within a matter of a week. There is a saying: "It takes both sunshine and rain to make a rainbow." If you look hard enough and beyond the clouds, the sunshine is still there, even in the midst of a storm.

I knew that bringing a child into this world without the comfort and normalcy of marriage, or even a father around, would be tough. However, I gave up the all-access pass to singledom willingly and without a second thought, tough as I know it will be. I believe the joy of becoming a mother far outweighs all the sacrifices.

I also knew that since my parents were moving, I would need to accompany them unless my insane desire to remain independent overruled my desire to do the best I could raising the little man. I would still, however, have been forced to move somewhere else less expensive which would also cause me to have to give up a lot of my friends. I knew it would be sad, but Kieran deserves to have the best I can do for him. I still miss my friends from all areas of the country and know that none can be replaced.

I knew that transferring to a new office meant a shift of comfortable work environments with new co-workers and a forced "chipper" personality everyday until I get comfortable. I knew it meant new lunch buddies, new uncomfortable conversations, and new clients. However, I have the opportunity to embrace new challenges and prove myself.

I knew that leaving a home full of great friends and the city I have lived in for 5 years to move in with my parents would force me out of my comfort zones. I don't know the area, the city, or anyone yet. So, I purchased navigation on my phone. Besides, my only comfortable zones are living and knowing that things change every day.

I knew living with my parents would force me to give up a significant amount of independence (ie- where things go in the kitchen is a trip to the polls where my vote doesn't count). But financially I have the opportunity to get on my feet and live as though I am not on permanent vacation.

I knew Colorado was full of mountains, and hours from the beach. The beach I always dreamed of living near, and had for 5 long years. There is, however, a serenity and peacefulness unmatched by any of the cities I have lived in. It's a new adventure.

But grey faded to black and the storm took over when I lost my grandmother, my nana this week. I did not know that it is nearly impossible to understand the depth of love I had for her until I lost her. I did not know how hard it would be to see her writhing in pain, suffering from an aneurysm. I did not know that the night I couldn't sit with her in the ER because I couldn't bear to see her in pain was the last I would ever see her. I did not know how hard it would be to say goodbye.

She was, an amazing woman, full of quirks and weird idiosynchracies (different from my own, yet what made her wonderful). The stress, sadness, and overwhelming shock of losing her to aneurysm and stroke is most definitely something I was not prepared for, especially while pregnant. I had optimistic hopes (despite the doctor's warning that without surgery on her artery she would pass soon) that she would be here for Kieran's birth. I had optimistic hopes that I would see her next Christmas. She had bought me this goofy soccer ball basket for my upcoming birthday to throw goodies in. I didn't know she wouldn't be here for it.

It is only by God's grace that I am able to part the clouds and allow the sunshine in on the rain. She lived to be 79 (almost 80) and I have known her as an adult (more than I was able to know my father or my grandfather). The doctor inferred that had we not brought her on this trip with us, she likely would have had the aneurysm in her stomach with the stroke and then bled to death until someone found her, a far more painful scenario than our ability to rush her to the ER. Even if the ER was 300 miles from our new destination where we still did not have a house.

We had the entire weekend with her, and on the 8 hour drive she told me stories I had never heard before. We shared conversation, dinners, and her last moments. Although I am beyond sad to see her go, when she went to heaven she opened her eyes and looked straight up as if she saw angels coming to get her. She gracefully left this world in the presence of my family. She will be sorely missed every day for the rest of my life and yet I am jealous. I know she is able to walk without her walker, sing like an angel, and reunite with my grandfather after 18 years. She is now living where the sunshine I need to break through my cloudy days never has disappeared and every time I see it I will remember her.