This week has been wild. I started off in Fayetteville, Arkansas to give a speech at Circle of Life hospice center which serves much of Northwest Arkansas. I spoke at their luncheon about how hospice reinforced a lesson that had been drilled into me for most of Adelaide’s life: that the little things are the big things. During her life, that was, of course, her inchstones, but when hospice came in, that saying took on a new meaning.

It was the plaster sculpture of Jackson and Adelaide’s hands forever molded together, or the necklace I had made of Adelaide’s fingerprint after our hospice social worker taught me how to take her fingerprint. Together these items cost less than $100 but they mean more to me than any other inanimate object in our home. 

The little things are the big things. 

It was also the care management hospice took off my hands: calls to the insurance company, refilling and picking up prescriptions - so, for the first time ever - I was able to solely focus on being Adelaide’s mom. 

The little things are the big things. 

Then, after that speech I was set to head home for a quick hello to the family and a turn around to head to Chicago the next day for some CURE Epilepsy work, but my fight home was cancelled and I got stuck in… wait for it… Chicago. After some back forth with Miguel it became quickly evident that it made more sense to just stay in Chicago even though I would miss the kids and certainly didn’t have enough clothes to be gone for an entire week. Fortunately, Chicago has no shortage of clothing stores and I do appreciate some good old fashioned retail therapy.

So, I surprised myself and instead of worrying about being away from the kids or feeling guilty about something I actually had no control over, I made the choice to lean in: I went shopping for new clothes and made plans to see a few friends. Who am I? Guilt-free enjoyment of an unfortunate event? Where is Kelly and what have you done with her?

The little things are the big things.

Oh, hey! This must be what growth feels like!

Honestly, I look at my life over the last few weeks and I don’t even recognize it. Is it possible that I am currently living my dream? I am writing a book, traveling the country for speaking engagements, and just returned from a mind blowing trip to Sicily to film a tv pilot centered around grief, food and bliss. It’s a whole freaking lot all at once. But, I remind myself, it’s not going to be this fast-paced forever. There will be lulls in the weeks and months ahead and that doesn’t mean I am failing or that this week was a fluke - it means that life happens on it’s own time and not on a regulated schedule of my choosing. 

Then there is a part of me that wants to shout out how lucky I am for all of this to be coming to fruition, but that would discredit all the literal blood, sweat and tears that went into making a week like this a reality. Specifically, Adelaide’s blood, sweat and our collective tears. None of this exists without her and I’ve continuously struggled to reconcile all the good that has come into my life as a direct result of so much pain and loss. This week though, I had a bit of a breakthrough. 

Look, I don’t wish to ever sit here and tell a single person that everything happens for a reason because I think that’s bullshit. But I do think that we can make meaning out of the shitty things that happen to us. So, this is me making meaning, making purpose out of Adelaide’s too short life and THAT is how I reconcile all the good that has come to me following her death. The good stuff is not a direct result of the bad stuff - one is not happening because of the other. But rather, I am MAKING the good stuff happen BECAUSE I love her, BECAUSE I want to honor her life.

This is so much more than making lemons out of lemonade. Going shopping for some cute new dresses because my flight was cancelled is lemonade. This is epically deeper than that. This is finding purpose in the meaningless. You know I would take her alive over all of this in a moment but I don’t get that option. So, I will live this bizarre new dream where I get to share her brilliant and yes, difficult, life with others to bring more love and good into the world. If I can figure out how to do this forever then I think I can be truly happy.

Sometimes the big things are also pretty big.

I feel a turning point coming on. This transitional Kelly, this Kelly 3.5 is making way to the next iteration of myself, Kelly 4.0: the writer, speaker and advocate. She is motivated by the purest love imaginable and, perhaps, also a desperation to keep her daughter’s memory alive. But love is a nicer message than desperation so we’ll stick with that one for now.