"Growing Pains"

One of my favourite movies is called Same Time, Next Year. It's the story of two lovers who meet at a quaint inn on the California Coast. The catch? They are both happily married to other people. They decided to continue to see each other but only once a year: "Same time, next year." The story spans the next 25 years as they both grow, change, and evolve in the face of life's challenges. I love it because it stars one of my favourite actors, Alan Alda, but it's also just a great story. Occasionally I will stumble upon it on TV, one of those simple, unexpected pleasures in life. I enjoy it as much as I did around 30 years ago when I saw it for the first time. Some things don't change.

But most things do change. Thank goodness for that.

I just spent a really wonderful weekend with my entire immediate family at my parent's house. We had a (profitable!) garage sale, an impromptu family BBQ with our awesome neighbours who are more like family than friends, and shared lots of laughter and love. As I lay in my bed in "my room" on Saturday night, awaiting sleep, I reflected on the refuge that that very room, bed, and home, had provided me only a year before.

Twelve months ago I was in the fight of my life. Quite literally. My parents and their home were my refuge. They saved me from the ultimate darkness, death. For that I am forever grateful. While I can never truly know how devastating it must have been for them to have a child walking such a fine line between choosing life and death, I am so grateful that they didn't shy away from the challenge. A painful challenge it was.

"Growing Pains" - It's a phrase that we are all familiar with. When kids grow up we often refer to many of the awkward phases that they go through as growing pains. But I think it's one of those sayings that just makes sense. My experience with mental illness is similar to those of you who have fought battles against disease, disability, or suffered tragedy. It hurts, simply put. Sometimes it's physical and sometimes it's mental but it's pain all the same. One of the great things (yes, there has been the odd  thing) that has come out of my experience with depression is that it has forced change in my life and it has forced me to grow. When you grow, sometimes it hurts.

As I sat on the back deck at my parents' home this morning I looked out over my mom's garden. The pretty butterfly bushes are so much taller and stronger this year. My mom has watered, pruned, and loved them over the past year. My dad staked them so that they would have that extra bit of fight and resilience to them when the rains and winds come. They have flourished. You know what? Come to think of it, so have I.

KB xo

P.S. This is dedicated to the most amazing mom & dad that anyone could ask for. A gift to me from the universe. Thank you, universe!