Purpose

Recently this word came up in discussions at work and with my friends. It’s so interesting for me because as a mental health counselor, I’ve always told everybody our purpose is something we work for every day. I don’t think we ever know what our purpose is until we are older and can look back and reflect and say what it was. While we are living our daily lives, I feel like our purpose changes every day. It may be something as simple as the stranger you smiled at and changed the course of their day. It could be because you excelled at your job that day and you really made an impact. Or maybe it is at home because you hugged your child and impacted her or him in that moment. I feel like our purpose is always changing. Today I thought about purpose and grief. I reflected on my purpose and Melina. Foolishly, I always thought our purpose stopped when we died. But looking at my Melina I see how this isn’t the case. Melina’s purpose has only grown since we have lost her. Melina inspires my family everyday to be the best we can possible be. Melina was dealt the worst hand at age four. A diagnosis that would take her life in 32 days. A diagnosis that had no treatment options for a positive outcome. Everyday she declined and lost yet another physical ability. Yet she continued to be nothing short of Melina. When I reflect on her Joy in the last 32 days of her life I realized she lived everyday with a purpose. Even death did not truly end a life. Death can never take away our purpose. In fact if anything death has strengthened Melina’s and added to mine.

Not one day goes by in my life that I don’t realize she’s not with us. I lost a third of me. But I also realize I have 2/3 of my heart that are so active right in front of me. And each day I focus on my purpose for them. Yet my purpose for two of my daughters is so different than it is for my baby girl. I never thought I’d run a foundation. I never thought I’d be on here the month of May screaming to go Gray. I never thought that I would understand the magnitude of the under funding of pediatric cancer. Yet Melina added more to my purpose.

I always thought at the end of our life, we would see our purpose, and now I realize that there is nothing stronger in this world than who we are and what we love. When my day comes that I am no longer on this Earth I realize my children will continue to say my name. They will live in honor of me in some ways if I have fulfilled my purpose. This can only push me more to Joy. When people reflect on my life I want them to say the same things that I say every day about my Melina.

“My Melina was better than all of us. My Melina knew what mattered in life more than I ever could. My Melina is stronger than death. My Melina knew Joy was a Choice and her purpose continues as she teaches that choice to all of us.”

(This is my favorite moment of Joy. Melina was just released from the hospital post two brain surgeries. She demanded a pool party, and we listened. There she stood in two hats (cause who can choose), Cheeto sunglasses—of course, eating an ice cream sandwich, and making us blow up every raft we owned, laughing all the way!)