Isn’t it odd that as a leaf dies during the change of seasons its colors are the most beautiful and vibrant at that point and then they’re gone?

I was sitting on my front porch bench this afternoon. After we did the breakfast and the clean up and the homeschool and the 8 diaper changes, 2 extra sets of teeth brushed on top of my own, 3 nursing sessions. One baby down for what would become a 3 hour nap, and one getting some vitamin D in the stroller in front of me as I mindlessly rocked the base of it with my foot.

And then I looked to the sky. So blue today. And then, I saw the most beautiful red and coral leaves on the top of a tree I wish I knew the name of. I suppose the name is irrelevant, but the tree’s lesson was anything but. If I had taken a picture of the moment, and then, if pictures could smell, the moment smelled hot like summer with that underlying wetness of a recent rain. Mixed with a little fresh driveway sealant, and the crispness of the shade in September.

And that’s when it struck me. Leaves are so beautiful this time of year. Gorgeous colors most trees never possess until the very leaves on their limbs are dying. These beautiful leaves are essentially taking their last breaths. Something so ugly, in human form, is so beautiful in nature. And that’s when I reflected on my own journey through loss, and then depression, and then acceptance, and how I’m learning to live a legacy.

My mother, my sweet and beloved mother. The one who would have absolutely ADORED dressing my baby girl up in clothes I myself can’t afford. The one who would swoop in when I’m at my lowest point and take my kids for the night. The one who would know all of this, before I even knew I needed her, would then come in, kiss me through my hair and tell me how beautiful I am and how proud she is of me. My mother, was like these leaves.

I swear my mother was more beautiful on her death bed than she was for the last 5 years before she left me. Psoriasis covered her body and she wasn’t the same woman she always was in those last few years. Her eyes told a story that the leaves tell. I heard these beautiful stories about my mother, full of life and color. Her friends shared so many things with me, that I still treasure, into this very moment in time. My mother’s death was ugly. I still remember how ugly it was. But today, when I felt hope in looking to the leaves to make her absence hurt a little less, it helped. Because right before you die, your colors burn through everyone you touch. Your light hits the high points, but the shadows tell a colder story still. And in the midst of the seasons changing, and my own depression sneaking back into the deepest darkest corners of my heart, I am reminded of love. I am reminded of my mother. I am reminded to live like her, letting my colors blaze as bright as the firey leaves, and letting my light change everything it touches. I am reminded to walk in the warmth. To speak warmth, attach to warmth and be the warmth. The changing of weather and sunshine dosage and saying so long to summertime always gets me. And a little bit more since she’s been gone. So here is my gentle and friendly reminder to check on the light in your life. Check on your strong friend. Reach out. Spend the money, call your friend. Make the time to be someone’s sunshine in the shade of a cold September day 💛

Couldn’t even tell you the last time I wrote but I think it wassss July?!

Life is WILD. Up at 5:30/6 every morning and the feet, the hands, the heart, the brain. They don’t stop. Got everyone to bed, and little miss Venice decided she wanted one more dream feed. So ya know, pulling a 17 hour shift. But this little GIIIIIIIIIRL. She. Is. An. ANGEL. Angel angel angel. Thank you God. Thank you universe, love and all the powers that be that brought her to me. I never knew how much I needed her. My GIRL.

Ace is still a frat boy, but making teensy weensy improvements here in week 9 of life with a new baby in town. Maverick has started KINDERGARTEN through homeschooling and we couldn’t be more in love with the freedom it’s giving our family. We still have a bedtime and a routine and we are learning all the things and making all new friends and everyone is thriving in our new little endeavor.

Dan is proud of me. I have full blown conversations with my dead mother. And my kids do the dougie all over my nerves from sun up til way past sun down and I still feel like the luckiest chick in the world because I have my children and my husband and we all have our health and for that, I am forever thankful.

Today I hung out with one of the most beautiful souls I’ve truly ever sat with. We nurses our babies over muffins, Starbucks and pasta salad, talked about our beliefs and our husbands and our children and food and weed and she left me all the little love treasures a heart could handle. And I thanked her for today but that didn’t seem good enough or sufficient enough so here I am blogging about her. Because she made me feel a little less like a frazzled, lonely, crunchy, weirdo mom, whose doing all the weird things, and more like a confident, sure, understood, smart and beautiful soul. Well, Erin – takes one to know one I suppose 🥰.

It’s a lot ya know? Since I lost my mom it’s been kind of a revolving door. People wanted to “be there for me” when in reality they were just being nosy and wanted to see what a girl with a dead mom was like. Then there were the family and friends who checked in and then suddenly checked the fuck out. Including one deadbeat father. Ok. So, then I tried to immerse myself in people I thought would make me feel whole when in reality. My family, my 3 kids. My husband. My sister and brother were the only ones who really understood. And honestly? Nobody else did. So I completely flooded myself with them, and for the last 3 years that was enough. But today? And in the last few weeks? I’ve realized I need something, aside from work, aside from my little clan, aside from being a mom a wife and a sister. I needed friends. Real friends with real deep conversations. No holds barred type territory. Ones who understand and are IN IT. The raw messy side of life. The raw and messy person who is me. Who want to understand my beliefs and convictions. Hell, they even AGREE with some of them! And I can’t tell you enough how happy I am to have an open heart for these exact people.

I talked to an old friend this week who I’ll be seeing this weekend. We did not shut up when we were on the phone together. We’ve never met each others’ husbands or kiddos but guess what? I can tell you we both already are in love with each others’ families. Also. Recently, I connected with a former client of mine who I now talk to a few times a week, I love listening to her passion and the way she talks may or may not remind me of my mom, and for that I will always keep her in my world. And lastly someone whose kind of always been someone I’m following through social media has come into my life and bumped me into this amazing realm of realization that, I’m ok. I’m 35 and a grown ass woman who can do with her life whatever she so shall please. I feel really good about where I am and welcoming some new minds and hearts into my life. I think I’m ready to have this new identity of Brianna. A truth seeker. A freedom fighter. A fierce girl mom. The quintessential boy mom. An amazing and solid wife. A woke-ass participant in a very scary society. And a human who has nothing but love to give. (Also loves target and amazon too much caffeine and NOT good at Pinteresty things. Ever.)

In the deepest pockets of my heart, and in the scariest corners of my brain, my worries, my plans, my dreams, my decisions. They’re all coming from a place with the purest love and the most pristine intentions. And it may seem like I’ve taken some extreme stances and measures in the last couple years and MAYBE I HAVE; but, I’m Rita’s daughter. And when she left, the game fucking changed for me. I’m steadfast in my beliefs. I’m not willing to turn a blind eye. And now I get to live in such a way, that when she looks down at what I’m doing, she can belly laugh with me, and smile at the difference I’m making.

I do this all for you my mama. You’re my strength every day.