Embracing Change: The Heartfelt Writings of Stacey Taylor

Embracing Change: The Heartfelt Writings of Stacey Taylor

 

Life is a series of transitions, each bringing its own challenges and rewards. In this special blog post, we're thrilled to share the deeply moving writings of Stacey Taylor, who put pen to paper nearly 20 years ago to capture the essence of personal growth, motherhood, and the beauty of life's colorful journey.

 

The Labor of Letting Go

 

*Originally written in the summer of 2005*

 

In the summer of 1996, I labored for twelve hours in a hospital, sweating as I pushed out a nine-pound bowling ball. I laid in the bed holding this little wonder and marveling at the gift and miracle of life. We welcomed her home to our one-bedroom apartment, her crib two feet from my pillow.

 

Two months later, we graduated to a two-bedroom apartment. While we were getting organized, she stayed in my room. Once her crib was set up, Dad was ready to put her into her own room. That night I experienced my first heartstring tug and became aware of my labored breathing. "Let go," he said with ease. I slept fitfully that night.

 

It is now nine years later, and my nine-pounder is nine years old. Once again, I labored and sweated as we lugged furniture downstairs to create her own room. Once again, I sit in reflection, aware of the transition that has occurred. This time, I am the one saying, "Let go." It is Dad's turn to feel the tug of the heartstrings.

 

I now contemplate my future "labor" pains: more sleepovers and play dates away from me, more pulling away as she begins to find herself. Jr. High, first dates, High school parties, college, getting married, and, in an intangible way, handing over life for her to then begin the same cycle of learning to let go. 

 I am grateful that these transitions come in baby steps—one small step at a time. Breathe...Relax... Let go.

 

 

Pink 

 

*Originally written in 2007*

 

I've always been aware of color. Sounds funny I know, but colors have been intense and somewhat emotional for me. I dream in color a lot. I am aware of and see color in everything. Days of the week, months of the year, and even people are colors to me. Some colors I can't stand, I don't know why. Oranges, yellows, and browns depress me, yet I love orange pumpkins, yellow sunrises, and brown chocolate. There are shades of teal or mint green that I find unsettling. I have my favorites for sure. Patterns of black and white excite me probably because the patterns are organized.

 

My favorite color is dusty steel blue. When people ask for my favorite color, I reply, "Blue Jeans." It always makes them stop and think. Reds, purples, greens, and everything in between are okay. I never thought twice about the others because I am so partial to blue. Then you came along.

 

Actually, before you even slipped into this world, I began to feel I knew you. I found myself decorating the cover page of your baby book with pink rocking horses. Sorting through baby clothes, a frilly bubble gum pink dress found its way to the front of your closet. Then you made your entrance. You came into my arms wrapped in a cottony white blanket, your blush little face peacefully asleep.

 

Before you could speak, you were drawn to pink and would always choose pink toys or blankets. Now, I see all the shades of pink and think of you no matter where I am or what I am doing.

 

Last night at dinner, you sat to my left. I glanced over and was struck by your beauty—locks of sable hair falling over your face. Those eyes change color daily, it seems, but always hover somewhere within the realm of angry storm cloud gray to a distinguished yet subtle jade. You've had the golden sun kissing those cheeks and nose, for I counted another hundred bronze freckles splashed across your face. Those ruby-red lips sit satin and stark against your creamy ivory complexion.

 

I tucked you in last night. Your room dances with every pink color scheme. I kissed your forehead, squeezed your shoulder, and turned to leave the rustic room, now illuminated by a single bulb of soft white. Yet I still saw it marbled all around me, and I realized that because of you, I love pink.

 

 

Reflecting on Life's Journey

 

Stacey Taylor’s reflections teach us the importance of savoring each moment and appreciating the beauty in life's transitions and subtleties. Her journey as a mother and her deep connection with colors are testaments to the ever-changing yet profoundly meaningful nature of our experiences.

 

Stay tuned for more heartfelt stories and reflections as we continue to explore and celebrate the precious moments that make life truly remarkable.

 

Feel free to share your thoughts and personal stories in the comments below. We'd love to hear how Stacey's writings resonate with you.

 

Thank you, Stacey, for allowing us access to your beautiful writings and heart.