I rise.
I make pancakes.
I make it to two parties and
AGAIN...manage to put dinner on the table, this time with fresh fruit! (Happy jig here)
After feeling overwhelmed, I work on my resume for 45 minutes with my mom, I am high on the potential.
I am so pleased with myself, like a toddler learning to walk. Get up wobble, step, wobble step and then ta da!! I'm at the wall or table.
And Ezra says to me "Mom, I miss Daddy. If Daddy hadn't died, you wouldn't be thinking about moving and we wouldn't be having so many babysitter to go out, what seems like every night." And he weeps. I know I will see him later in my bed, too, seeking reassurance by lying next to me.
And I say "I know.. It's hard. This is all new to you and to me."
But Ezra, I think to myself, "Change is exciting and exhilarating!"
I am the butterfly in the cocoon. Soon it will be time to try out my new wings, and I promise you kiddo, I will fly and you will see.
Out of death comes life.
There is a Japanese word, Akeru, that means "to pierce, to open, to end, to make a hole in, to start, to expire, to unwrap, to turn over." It basically describes the reality of loss - that when there is an ending, there is also a beginning. When we lose someone, a hole is created but we start to create new beginnings out of that loss, hard as it is. To begin and to end are not separate but coexist side by side. As you say, out of death comes life.
ReplyDeleteYes you will. And when you have a dark day, please re-read this post - so that you believe that you will surf the crest of the tsunami rather than be engulfed within it forever x
ReplyDeleteI wonder how much it hurts the butterfly to build first the coccoon, then the wings? As much as it took for us to build entire humans in our uteruses? I know my transformation wasn't easy. But man was it worth it. (Not that it's over. Either the pain or the change. Still here 3 years later.)
ReplyDeleteGirl, you will fly. And I will be so happy to watch those wings unfold.
X
Supa