Pages

Monday, January 9, 2012

Healing

It is something being a mother, isn't it?

Impossible to describe to someone who has never experienced it.

I suppose it would be hard to grasp the rawness of it all if I had never held a part of myself in my arms.

My mother's heart is manic, changing from moment to moment, from heartache to joy and back again.

Tonight I sat on my bathroom floor, knees pulled to my chest, crying, desperate over life that crushes my heart...and the hearts of my children.

Within moments of me breathing again, my sweet baby boy looked straight into my eyes, and said funny, precious things. Things that would make little sense to a stranger but spoke directly to my core. Silly, life-changing things.

"Why don't you put some Tylenol on that?"

These are the moments I am trying to spot and find joy in.

Both of these moments.

The crushing.

The rebuilding.

I took cool air deep into my lungs.

Listened to the rain.

Felt peace.

Lived.

My children are all near.

The heart heals and heals.

Layer by layer.

Moment by moment.

Deeper and deeper.

I believe that.

For me.

For my children.