She writes her Morning Pages. Opening up her soul’s mic, as she creates on the page. Slowly, venting in measured breaths. Too much too soon she won’t be able to close what should never have become so..high. Critical Mass.
I watched her cry yesterday because there was no way she could hide the hurt in her heart. Sadness crept into her eyes, as the tears fell. A cracking voice that questioned why her attempts chronically seem futile. If she was someone else…a weaker sort, my concern for her would be sooo much greater. She walks around in darkness continually trying to shine her own light. Just when her eyes seem to adjust to the ability to see, to breathe, to rest, to smile, it is taken away just as quickly…Violently, propelling her back into darkness. The darkness never remains because she is back at it…trying to turn on her light, when she has ever reason to give up.
She doesn’t know that her pain has caused me many sleepless nights. Praying, and questioning why such a kind, loving, and helpful soul has to endure so much. Surely, this can not be her journey. The world isn’t this cruel…wait, it is. Although, she is not perfect, she doesn’t deserve, and hasn’t earned all this grief.
I admire her. She uses the smiles on her kids’ faces as fuel. She plants seeds in soil that may never produce; yet, she still plants, nurtures, and cares…tilling her land of dreams, wants, desires, and needs. Maybe one day, we both will come to understand why. Maybe one day, we will have a conversation enjoying the fruits of her labor, while never returning to the drought. I’m not sure what the future will display. All I ask is that you pray for her, and send positive energy and love her way.