Wednesday, April 4, 2012

joy for today.

Today I woke up in a sense of haze.  I spent much of the morning thinking about money and debt.  How we have acquired the latter and have too little of the prior.  But finally I put the stack of bills back into a neat pile and hid them behind the closet door.  I declared to myself that I would not open it or work on that today. 
Today was going to be for the riches of today.
It has been a wonderful couple of days despite Mabel's constant cries.  Over the weekend, Daniel and I took the redheads to a concert slam packed with Christian bands. 
I knew that the kids needed time with us and every now and then I feel my soul longing for one on one time with them.  Sometimes I have to allow myself the freedom to let someone else take care of Mabel so I can just be their mommy.
And it was good.  It was so so good. 
 I drank in their littleness and soaked up their laughter.  I made an extra effort to listen and to hold their hands as I walked with them.  I carried Braden and smelled his skin.  I even purposed myself to remember that this was the week we first discovered his 'nose freckles' which is to us, a symbol of getting big.  His baby face, although still smooth, is changing into that of a young boy.  And I won't forget looking at him and knowing that it's happening.
 Yesterday was very Sunday-like.  Daniel and I took a trip to the bookstore so that I could buy two new books that were just released.  I held his hand and smiled as I looked up at him. 
He smiled down at me as I rubbed my hands over the books and he said to me, "That will be you someday, babe."  My eyes welled with tears a little and I quietly said, "I hope so."

Later in the evening we gathered with family to celebrate my dad's birthday. 
 As I walked around the yard I couldn't help but think about the people who surround me.  It isn't all family.  Yet it is. 
It is people who have steadily been here and loved me through every part of my life.  It is what we have built and cherished.  These relationships-no matter family or not are the steady constant that breathes life into me.
 I look around and I can't help but feel incredibly blessed. 
Emotions that have been tossed and turned by waves of despair, gratefulness, joy, sadness and everything in between are settled by the words unsaid and the glimpses caught.  They are the unspoken moments between sisters and friends who should be.  They are the hands of my dad holding his grandchildren.  They are the apologies spoken when hurtful ways are unintended. 
It is then; in those times when I know God is here.
 I've read alot lately and have been talked to more often about acceptance. 
Thankfully I have a best friend who has fallen beside me in anguish many times in my days with Mabel.  I have seen her cry for me as Mabel's kicking legs knock a plate of cake off of my lap.  When I laugh, she sometimes cries.  When she laughs, I'm crying. 
She is the yang to my ying. 
So when speaking about acceptance, I love hearing the fire in her voice saying, "That would be nice if we knew what to accept."
She feels it.  She knows that I'm not there yet.  She isn't quite there either.

I think people are missing it though.  I accept Mabel.  In fact, I want others to look at her and just accept her too.  I'm tired of trying to picture her walking.  I'm tired of forcing myself to think about her running through a field of flowers with a spring dress on, reaching down and smiling as a butterfly sweeps across her nose. 
I want desperately to be in the now; to feel this now.
I accept her now. 

Some people interpret my acceptance as lack of hope. 
My acceptance is rooted in hope.  It is the core of my journey. 
It's knowing that while trying, we may not ever find an answer for our girl.  We may never be able to give whatever is causing her symptoms a true name.
I accept that but I am still determined to try and knowing that I have tried everything will surely bring the healing of even greater acceptance.
 But then I woke up today.
And oh today...
Today, in all of it's spring-ness and in all of it's glory I was revived.

I am still in my pj's.  I enjoyed my coffee.  I read my new book.  I snuggled my girl and she smelled so good.  I listened to the kids play and I didn't feel anxious.  I listened as they laughed and talked too loud.  I felt calm.
 It's Easter week and with all the talk of the resurrection, I can confidently say that my spirit was lifted from the grave this morning. 
Resurrected.  Made new.  Conformed. 

I climbed up onto the trampoline next to Mabel as the wind blew briskly over us.  The black mat swallowed us up.  She curled her body into mine as she always does, knowing I'm beside her.  Her mouth opened wide and she giggled that laugh of 'I got you where I want you, mom.'
I smelled her grape smell as I kissed the corner of her mouth and with fresh breath, I sighed.
The world seemed to perfectly align at this moment in time and as I quietly held my baby I heard the 21 gun salute from the nearby cemetery. 
My heart ached for a friend who just lost her dad and I wept for their family.
Holding Mabel I quietly sobbed, thanking God for today.
For this moment and these children. 
For our family.  For those who have become family.

There was a lot of acceptance rooted in this day. 
Alot of joy. 
Slowly I am feeling things that I haven't been able to feel in a long time and in the midst of it is great hope and love. 

Coloring Easter eggs tonight. 
Looking forward to tomorrow...

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Feeling happy that you are feeling Noras sweet smile! Xo