I just returned from a pretty epic weekend of hanging out with some of my fave family members and shooting the BEST redneck wedding EVER! It was SO MUCH FUN, but I came home feeling a little off (as the climate change from desert to coast throws me off every time I travel there) and fell into an exhausted, but restless sleep.
Around 2:30 a.m., I woke up with the urge to vomit and I jumped out of bed (only to discover I was really dizzy) and promptly fell on my face. It was so loud, it even woke Greg up, but I told him I was fine and he went back to sleep. Face smushed into the floor, I lied there, breathing deeply, willing the room to stop spinning and contemplating waking Greg up to ask him for a bucket. I closed my eyes and just listened to myself breathing, waiting for my body to level out a bit so I could attempt to get up and make my way across the hall to the bathroom. I was covered in sweat, shivering, feeling generally miserable and, clear as day, my mom’s voice suddenly spoke into my right ear. “Get up, Jo.” My eyes shot open and I flipped my head to the side, expecting to see mama there beside me, but she wasn’t (of course), so I closed my eyes again and kept breathing, whispering, “No. No. No.” over and over again.
I eventually flipped over, bringing another wave of nausea and spins and, just as I was about to give up and puke on the floor, mom’s voice again, but much louder, “Get up, Jo. NOW!”
I did it without thinking. I pushed myself up, did the speed wobble (like I was walking down the hallway on a boat on rough seas…into one wall, into the other wall) across the hall with my hand clamped over my mouth and lunged the two steps to the toilet, where I happily emptied my guts and then collapsed on the bathroom floor once again. As I sat there, with my head resting back on the wall and panting a little, Mom’s voice came again, even clearer than the other two times. “Good girl!”.
They are always with us, but they show themselves when we need them most. I guess I really needed her last night.
This lasted about two more hours and then, when my body was purged of everything, I crawled back into bed with happy thoughts of my mama to send me off to sleep.
Despite the circumstances, I love these visits and always feel so grounded again afterward.
Blogs are always better with a pic, so here’s a pic that Ian grabbed, all stealthy-like, while I selfied with our Bride last Saturday.
Happy Monday ya’ll.
We are one. We are love. One love.