Let’s Get (Re)Aquainted

With my my wonderful hairdresser Chelsea who refreshed my
neglected locks this past November –
Chelsea owns Bombshell Beauty in Cranston, RI

I set out to write a bit about myself for those who are new to my public persona here at Enthusiastically, Dawn, but each time I attempt to write, I find myself frozen. There I sit, staring at the screen, eyes glazed, mind blank…a statue. This is a strange experience for me. Since blogging publically in 2011, I’ve had writing ups and downs, but this is alien to me. This blankness that comes when I think of writing to share with those of you who choose to read my words, and share along with me in this space, is like a fog. I can’t see or think clearly. I’m not sure what grief looks like, but I will say that it feels like amnesia. Let me explain…

We draw our strength from the very despair in which we have been forced to live. We shall endure.

– Cesar Chavez

When I was seventeen, I wrote the following words in my journal as I struggled to find my identity:

I am. Am I. Am I who I think I am?

I am sure that many teens ask the same questions. But looking back at that young girl now, the girl I was, I could not have imagined then that she – I – would be asking the same question 4o years later.

Grief is like that. It shakes you to your core, and rattles your foundation. I will not deny that, or try to candy coat it. Now, I can only speak for my own experience, but speak I will, as God allows.

Losing an only child, our one and only child, my only child, is the insurmountable mountain that has been placed before us. This is the path we could not have fully anticipated, though we dreaded and feared. I’ve suffered many losses in life, but this one feels irreconcilable.

Some have said to me they don’t understand how I can function, how I can put one foot in front of the other in light of this loss. Sometimes I don’t know, either. Mostly, I sense my Good Shepherd carrying me, and continuing to carry me until I can bear my own weight agin. I guess that’s what I am looking for and hoping to accomplish. To find my footing once more in this strange new world that has been thrust upon us.

Spirit has fifty times the strength and staying-power of brawn and muscle

– Mark Twain

Now dear reader where does all this lead me? Where does it leave us? Well, open to possibilities previously unknown I would imagine. I guess I will keep putting one foot in front of the other, and as Elisabeth Elliot counseled wisely, keep doing the next thing. You won’t see me crying. I am not one to often share those moments. The tears I shed, I share before my Savior alone. He is the One who knows all and is faithful, true and trustworthy. He gives me strength and grace for the days. He is my secret strength and superpower. He is the One I praise day and night. He is the One who I cling to, and hope in. He is the One I wrestle and plead with. He is the One who keeps me in all things, always, and for that I am eternally grateful.

So, as I get reaquainted with myself, I will do my best to share as I go. I am in uncharted territory, I admit. Maybe, I’ll have something of value or encouragement to share with you, or someone you know. Maybe you will do likewise for me.

Who knows all the things that God may do, we never know fully what He is up to…but He is always on the move. And He is worthy of our attention. I’ll keep looking up, as I pray you will. Until next time, I remain,

Enthusiastically, Dawn

If you are new here, here are a few places to get to know me and what I have shared:

Who I am

Why, Enthusiastically, Dawn?

The Journal Enthusiast

Journaling etc.

Writing Life– anthologies, poetry events, guest posts

Published by enthusiasticallydawn

Dawn Paoletta is a life enthusiast who loves to juggle words, chug coffee, and journal excessively. You can find her gathering stones on the beach most mornings. She enjoys hanging out with her hubby, daughter and family pets in Narragansett, RI and shares her passion, poetry and prose @Enthusiastically, Dawn.

6 thoughts on “Let’s Get (Re)Aquainted

  1. Dawn, you are an amazing woman, and I thank the Lord for the blessing of knowing you over these past several years of blogging. You challenged us to “bare all and share all” in our Random Journal Days, and that truly helped me to be more open in my feelings and sharing what really matters in life. I, too, have lost a dear son, but he was not my only child, and for that I am very thankful. I cannot begin to imagine how difficult it would be to be bereft of all three of my wonderful sons. But one thing is true no matter what or how many, God is faithful. He does carry us through our sorrows and binds up our wounds and gives us hope for tomorrow. Yes, it hurts and it keeps hurting and the pain doesn’t ever go completely away. I did most of my crying in the shower, where no one could see or hear but me and Jesus. Then He washed my tears away and I could come out and face the world and move forward one step at a time. Yes, any kind of great loss like this causes us to reevaluate our whole purpose in life and to seek God’s answers for “what next?”. I believe God is already showing you ways to share your story with others who are in similar circumstances, but who may not have the knowledge of the Holy One like you do, and they need that kind of hope. I pray that God will continue to give you strength and grace and comfort along the way…and that He will show you what great love He wants to manifest to you and through you. In HIs time. Baby steps along the way…no need to hurry. Just let Him do the leading. He will carry you through. (((hugs))) to you my friend.

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    1. Dear Pam…I feel remiss in not knowing about your loss! I am sorry for that and for your loss. I do know this loss has certainly sensitized me to the loss in others…I so appreciate your words today! Thank you for taking the time to read and thoughtfully comment. I feel a little lost in the days…and still know it is Christ in me , keeping me. With thanks! As always, grateful for you!

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      1. Dear Dawn…Thank you for your kind reply. Our Matthew had cancer and fought it bravely for four years before Jesus took him home to heal him completely. He was 41, and left behind his wife and our only grandchild Noah, who was 14 at the time, but is 22 now! Thankfully, we had time to prepare our hearts and minds for his eventual passing, but it was still the very hardest thing we have had to endure and wouldn’t wish it on anyone else ever. There is nothing that this world can do to fill that empty place in our hearts. Only Jesus can comfort and care and give us purpose and hope again. We look forward to seeing him again in heaven someday…and that keeps us moving forward. And yes, I know you will see your precious daughter again. Heaven is only a breath away. (((hugs))).

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  2. Oh Dawn what a loss you are grieving. You are turning to Our Savior, as I do. I am a widow of five years and the first year I leaned on Him so much. I love that you wrote “He is my super strength and super power.” Be well.

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    1. I am sorry for your losss! Thank you for reading and commenting. I know I would not have a desire to live if it wasn’t for the gift of Christ in me- the hope of glory…and the hope we must cling to, in all circumstances. Especially these losses.

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