I write tonight with heavy on my heart. I have so many friends who are hurt, who struggle, who feel they can't go on. I can't make them. I am here, a mom, in quite over her head. With struggles of my own, reaching out my hand. I reach out to those others with heavy on their heart. I reach out offering comfort, healing. I reach out asking for help. There are a few things I know for sure.
I know that having a child who is very ill is very hard. I watch my friend deal lovingly and tirelessly with her medically fragile and complex child. She is Grace. She is Mercy.
I know that having a wife who sleeps next to me each night is a gift. We struggle. We fight. We learn. And we forgive. She is my Rock, my soul's home.
I know that I am gifted to have a friend who deeply cares. A friend who checks in on me every few days if I don't reach out first. She is a lesson. She is a Blessing. She is a Gift.
I know that tomorrow comes. Today was hard. I spent today, as I spend many days, alone in my room, dark towels over the windows, dark towel over my head. Barely breathing for the intensity of the migraine. And, tomorrow, the sun will rise. I will start again. Without judgement.
I know that, in the room next to mine, sleeps the most beautiful child I've ever seen. He chose me as his mother. We live and learn together in a way I could hot have imagined. He understands more than most ever will. Autism gives him both a challenge and a gift. Together we learn to navigate the waters. He takes up the softest most tender part of my heart.
I know that I hurt. And I'm listening to music. I let it guide me, into sleep. I trust it. It is a gift.
Whatever your truths are tonight, today, wherever you are, just sit and let them be your truths. Breathe. Accept. It is from the place of rooted acceptance that we can heal enough to move on.
So, as this night wraps itself around our lives, relax into it. It will not stay. It's merely here to give us a place and space to rest. Embrace it.
I'm rolling in now, to myself. With my cats. With my wife. With an ear for my sweet child. And in the morning light that pushes over the eastern mountains, we will rise new, all of us having been gifted a new day. Breathe.
Almost Too Late
1 week ago