{"id":156,"date":"2025-10-14T12:01:57","date_gmt":"2025-10-14T16:01:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/?p=156"},"modified":"2026-01-06T08:28:49","modified_gmt":"2026-01-06T13:28:49","slug":"off-roading-through-grief-and-dusty-baseboards","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/?p=156","title":{"rendered":"Off Roading Through Grief and Dusty Baseboards"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image alignright size-large is-resized\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1024\" height=\"768\" src=\"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/IMG_0399-1024x768.jpeg\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-168\" style=\"width:561px;height:auto\" srcset=\"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/IMG_0399-1024x768.jpeg 1024w, https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/IMG_0399-300x225.jpeg 300w, https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/IMG_0399-768x576.jpeg 768w, https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/IMG_0399-1536x1152.jpeg 1536w, https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/IMG_0399-2048x1536.jpeg 2048w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px\" \/><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-left\">The elephant in the room? Grief has been driving my life for the last six years. Sometimes quietly in the passenger seat, sometimes full-on grabbing the damn wheel. And when you let grief (or fear, or autopilot) take control, you don\u2019t glide gracefully down a smooth road. No. You find yourself off-roading through cornfields in a Subaru.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>When Nick first bought his Subaru, who we lovingly call Susan, my dad said, \u201cCareful with that thing. Put it on auto-pilot and she\u2019ll gladly take you off the road into a cornfield.\u201d And he wasn\u2019t wrong. That\u2019s exactly what I did with my life after my mom passed. I let fear take the wheel, and instead of cruising, I ended up stuck in the mud wondering, &#8220;<em>what the f* just happened?<\/em>&#8220;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>My mom passed away six years ago. Two months later, the custody battle I\u2019d been tangled in finally ended, but by then I was shell shocked. I was coming out of my second divorce and into a new relationship with Nick\u2014the one that would become my third (and final!) marriage. On top of it all, I was trying to figure out how to blend a family. My joy flatlined. My confidence tanked. Fear drove, and I went along for the ride.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Fast forward. We moved into our new home two years ago, and I swore it was going to be a fresh start. For a while, it was. New house, new routines, new hope. But then\u2026 life. Eight years of blending a family, raising kids, and trying to hold it all together will test anyone. Somewhere along the way, I crawled into a chrysalis and stayed there longer than I meant to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And oddly enough, what\u2019s pulling me out isn\u2019t some grand life event. It\u2019s dust! Dust on the windowsill while I did dishes. Dust on the baseboards in the teen\u2019s bathroom. Suddenly, I was transported back to when we first moved in and my realtor gushed about how \u201cwell-maintained\u201d the house was. **Quick side note: Sara DelSignore is a realty angel sent from Howard Hanna Heaven. If you need one, please, please, please call her! Anyhow, back then I had routines, systems, cleaning days and chill days neatly planned around Evelyn&#8217;s sleeping schedule. I was crushing it. These days? I can\u2019t remember the last time I deep-cleaned my own bathroom, let alone washed my own hair!<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>But here\u2019s where the metaphor smacks me in the face: maintaining a house is exactly like maintaining yourself. At first, everything is sparkling and full of good intentions. But then life happens. Corners get neglected. Dust settles. And before you know it, you\u2019re standing in your own bathroom thinking, &#8220;<em>when did I stop taking care of this shit?<\/em>&#8220;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The old me would\u2019ve spiraled. Bad Bridgette, bad, bad, bad! But this time, I just wrote. Because maybe the point isn\u2019t keeping everything spotless. Maybe it\u2019s giving yourself permission to do a deep clean now and then. A reset. For your house, and for yourself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Of course, my brain still spirals. Even now I\u2019m thinking: the bathroom needs scrubbing, the laundry needs folding, the dogs need out, the lawn needs mowing, and oh right\u2014the endless dog poop piles. (Nick probably did it already, but have I told him how much I appreciate him? Add that to the list.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>But the breakthrough is this: the list will always be endless. What makes me feel alive isn\u2019t a gleaming floor. It\u2019s sitting at the park, talking to a new friend while Evelyn makes her own friends. It\u2019s coming home, tucking her in, and writing. Even if it\u2019s just this messy, honest, unfiltered shit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Someone once said I wasn\u2019t a \u201creal parent\u201d because I don\u2019t contribute financially. But you know what I contribute? Time. Patience. Kindness. Love. Wisdom. Raising daughters into decent, kind, loving humans is work. Into strong women who will have their own identity and know their own worth. I don\u2019t get paid, but I show up every damn day. My mom taught me that. I&#8217;m not doing her any justice by burying myself in grief. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-group is-nowrap is-layout-flex wp-container-core-group-is-layout-6c531013 wp-block-group-is-layout-flex\">\n<p>So here\u2019s my elephant in the room: I\u2019m done proving my worth. To anyone. I\u2019m done letting grief drive me into cornfields. I\u2019m learning that dusty baseboards don\u2019t make me a failure. They\u2019re just proof that life is happening. And sometimes, all it takes is a deep clean, a reset, to find yourself again.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-group is-nowrap is-layout-flex wp-container-core-group-is-layout-6c531013 wp-block-group-is-layout-flex\">\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image aligncenter size-large is-resized\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"480\" height=\"640\" src=\"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/IMG_7231-2-rotated.jpg\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-184\" style=\"width:352px;height:auto\" srcset=\"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/IMG_7231-2-rotated.jpg 480w, https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/IMG_7231-2-225x300.jpg 225w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 480px) 100vw, 480px\" \/><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p>Thank you for showing up for me by reading this. Because in the end, don\u2019t we all just want the same thing? To be heard. To be understood. To belong.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The elephant in the room? Grief has been driving my life for the last six years. Sometimes quietly in the passenger seat, sometimes full-on grabbing the damn wheel. And when you let grief (or fear, or autopilot) take control, you don\u2019t glide gracefully down a smooth road. No. You find yourself off-roading through cornfields in [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-156","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-life-lately"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/156","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=156"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/156\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":194,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/156\/revisions\/194"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=156"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=156"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stillmeinhere.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=156"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}