A Normal Day
“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”
― Mary Jean Irion
There has been so much going on right now. I'm swimming against a strong current and I'm lacking the grace and poise required to make it, and quite frankly the stamina. Inside my head I'm in a fog and I feel overwhelmed. I need help. There are just so many moments where I want to scream out, "Help me! Someone please come help me."
And it's like your dad just knows when to come over and take your hand, or put you all on bikes and ride away for a bit, or heads to the store for groceries, or holds me close, or lets me go. He's really good like that.
Photo by Olivia Gatti
i want you home with me, but i know that now is not the right time. so i send you out into the world without me each day and my heart aches for you. hope carries me through the hours as i wait for your return. and when you do, i hang from your every word still holding onto that hope. “tomorrow is a new day.” “hang in there.” “it takes time.” these are the words that come tumbling out of my mouth when i really want to say, “f*** them!” “you don’t need them.” “it is their loss.” i see you growing though. you are learning so much. but some things just aren’t learned at school. like the way your baby brother looks at you as you gently bathe him and echo his coos back to him. no, love is taught right her at home with me, with your family.
Photo by Heather Robinson Photography