Sometimes all I can do is breathe, force more air into my lungs, hold it a second longer than normal,
exhale,
and do it again.
If I try to speak I will either cry or scream,
so I breathe.
I sit here at my kitchen table surrounded by the fixings for valentines,
and the stick of maple syrup reminds me
its been a while
since I scrubbed.
Life is hard.
Hard like the wood of this table passed down from Nick's family to ours
and a son who won't look into my eyes.
Hard like a day of responding to the hurt of children,
a sacred symphony that plays me awake at night.
Hard like the collective cries across the globe: Help me, please!
So I breathe.
I walk the halls.
I move from soul to soul as we mingle in a dance
of resistance, empathy, and response.
I exhale and still...
...life is hard.
Hard like the 5:00 intercom call, my name beckoned,
when I thought I was done, to respond to my son.
Hard like Elias shoving me in front of my students, boss, and peers. Hard like holding his hands in mine as he drags his feet on the floor, as he screams and tries to run back to the Camp Fire door.
Hard like this.
Sometimes all I can do is breathe, force more air into my lungs, hold it a second longer than normal,
exhale,
and do it again.
I think there's a quote about the definition of courage being willing to "do it again." You give so much to other people that I'm sure you need to recharge at the end of every day. No wonder you feel depleted! Sending you a hug.
Posted by: Tabatha | 02/12/2015 at 01:43 AM
I think it is really hard. Up all night worrying about patients or these foster kids who just went back or our own kids. Sometimes breathing is all you can do. But then something will give and it will get lighter again and you have a date night or watch a bad movie while running on the treadmill or go skiing as a family and it's better. Then I listen to that Coldplay song about how no one said it was easy but no one said it would be so hard. Anyway, hugs. Hope it gets lighter again soon.
Posted by: Kate | 02/12/2015 at 01:01 PM