I burn up rather quickly My throat tightens My hands wring My eyes wince from the smoke I wipe the soot from my skin My feet tread carefully
Today I failed. Failed as a mom. Failed miserably.
When you brace for the impact You don’t experience the whole effect Your muscles tighten and eyes squint Hands balled into fists Feet press down on invisible brakes You hurt yourself more than anything Maybe you should embrace the impact…
ALLTHATRAGE GIFTEDTOME FORTHEASKING ALLTHATRAGE COULDHAVERUINEDME RIDDINGMYSELFTODAY NOLONGERFULLOFIT
It is all about working through those hurts and finding a way to process them while letting them hurt a bit less every day. There is no time table.
I realized this morning as I pulled in to the parking lot, that I was filled with angst. I wasn't nervous but realized I was apprehensive. I have spent my life encouraging, speaking truth to and guiding women, so what were all these unsettling feelings I was dealing with?
Holding on to every last moment of summer, I feel that when I put on those jeans and those stupid thick winter yoga pants, I am almost defeated.
My mother had the softest hands of anyone I have ever known. When I was small, she would stroke the bridge of my nose to help settle me in for the night. And often would do the same to assist in quieting my tears.
Against my will, the salty tears assaulted my cheeks as quickly as I could wipe them away. I just needed a good cry. I needed to dispel all this hurt and just move on. I wasn't sure I could do this. Another gulp of air and a sob caught in my throat.
When a judgmental comment makes its way to my lips and can tell the condition of my heart is failing, I reel it back in. I reel it in. All of it. Stop myself in my tracks. Those words I am ready to share do not encourage.
Now, 5 1/2 years later, I find August approaching quickly. August 4th is a day that I will always pause and honor my mom. I will always remember her, share her life and the stories I remember with my children and anyone that will listen.