I am beginning to recognize myself for who I am in this ” now”. I feel better when I paint or work in clay or knit. I feel like myself. I feel like myself when I read. I feel like myself when I write.
I love my daughter. I love talking to my daughter. I love how brilliant she is. She has her problems, her obsessions but she is insightful and loves learning. I love that about her. I love that she always tries and puts forth such an concentrated effort. She really ,really cares. She really loves.
I love my husband the father of our children. He is so complex and yet has the simplest of motives. At heart he would like everyone to be happy. He may bluff and bluster but he is tender hearted and incredibly sentimental. He is fiercely protective and has little patience with ignorance – or those who are willfully ignorant. Look, learn, listen – pay attention and learn.
I am learning to love my son-in-law. Poor man to have to be introduced into our family when the rug was snatched out from under us. He has coped much better than might be expected. I appreciate his patience and his willingness to learn about us. We probably haven’t extended that effort as much as we would have in other times and circumstances. We are working on the process. I do love him. I want to love him more.
I love my extended family. They all have their own problems. Pain. It is there as it is for everyone. They don’t ask my advice (of which I have little anymore). If I had any it would be to work on learning to love without contingencies. For the most part from my observations I think they do that.
Learning to love that way is like hugging a huge rose bush that is in bloom. The beauty and lovely aroma does not mean you won’t be stuck – a lot.
Life is full of pain mixed with the beauty. It makes no sense. I trust no human explanations. I am able to give my own best guesses too and they don’t’ amount to much.
I love my friends. It is tough to be a good friend. It takes a delicate touch and the ability to recognize balance. I don’t know that I am as good a friend to others as they are to me. I don’t think we are good at being objective about that. The past nineteen months have had me turning myself insight out with introspection and I’m not sure I remember everything I have found.
I love my son.
On more than one occasion while on a hike with him I would get worried or fearful. I fear falling down. Past experience and lack of feeling in my feet have caused that to happen. Bifocal’s make judging distance downhill difficult. Slippery rocks and loose footing are a challenge for me. Crossing streams with rushing water by rock hopping intimates me. I am allergic to cold – cold induced urticaria to be exact. Falling into cold water is not good for most people and particularly bad for me.I break out in hives.
My son kept me safe.
He would take my hand. At a stream he would say. “Mom, I won’t let you fall! I will stand in the water and be your handrail, just take your time! I will make sure you get across safely.” And he did.
He did that in so many aspects of my life. He got me safely across.
I feel so vulnerable at times now. I have to work on my courage. I have to remember his encouragement.
I have to allow those I have in my life and the memory of his love help me get safely across to wherever it is that I am going. I have a lot of thorns to pick out along the way.
It takes a lot of effort – hourly, daily effort.
In times past (that I took so for granted) I recharged with words and affection from my husband, son and daughter. We gained strength and reassurance from each other. I think we still can and do use each other to recharge but it has changed and we are relearning how. It is a slow process at times.
The key? I have no idea but I suspect it is still tied up in love. Love like a thread that stitches the days back together.