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
I ride the pendulum of you every day. From one moment to the next and back again, I feel it all. You are perfect. This is a disaster. Where did you go? I don't know how to do this. I want you to have everything, like everyone else. You will. You won't. Are you happy? Am I? And finally, always, how could life be any better? This is exactly how it should be. And so, it is. I step off the ride for a bit. I become grounded. This is where the love grows best, naturally. When I am grounded, my roots take hold. I look at you. I see you.
Photo by Olivia Gatti
last night the older three went to have sleepovers with their grandparents. you were my one and only. i am trying to remember if this was our one and only night without them. i guess there were those days in the hospital seven months ago. those days that now feel like a lifetime ago. i didn’t particularly enjoy those days as much as i enjoyed last night. we didn’t do much with our alone time. just slept and slept and slept a little more. pretty perfect really.
Photo by Heather Robinson Photography