It’s been quite a week, with family death, local personality death, celebrity death, violent death and more death. It feels as if my heart and mind are on perpetual death skip. Instead of seeing life and promise in everyday moments, I see heartache lapping at the edges, pressing against my every breath.
When I was about 8 I was playing on the trailer hitch of my neighbor’s van. I was holding the enormous triangle frame and swinging side to side when all of a sudden the whole metal contraption came whooshing down, pinning me beneath it. The pavement was hot and rough beneath me, the force of the fall had knocked the wind out of me and the weight of the thing held me down. I was absolutely frozen in horror, aware that panic and hysteria were going to come hard and fast. Even typing this I can feel the pressure on my chest.
These past few days have felt like that, except instead of one specific pressure on my chest it’s been more like a heavy cloak, my limbs are wooden, slow to move, my mind equally stiff. The weather has been too bleak to do anything, heavy winds and road flooding rain making a trip with the girls unrealistic. Sean and I were talking just this morning about how unusual it is for us both to get slammed with the blues at the same time.
“Usually when I’m down, you’re up or the other way around. It’s why we work so well together. I’m not used to it being too much to pull each other out,” he said as he kept his face down. I had nothing, because every word was true. It has been pretty numb around here.
And then something happened, despite being my weak with fatigue and bereft of any characteristically optimistic, we-can-push-through-it grit, a light managed to break through. A big, twinkly, sequiny Disney daughter kind of light. The girls sweeping the floor and tickling the air in their brand-new sleep gowns sashayed the blues out with a dazzling blur of turquoise and lilac satin, irresistible toddler mirth and hysterical vamping.
Now, that picture at the top of this post, the one that before had been more darkness than light, nearly squeals with joy. There will always be death, but these girls make me remember that it’s the living that really matters.
I'm sorry Amanda that you've been down, but yes, one look at those lil' faces and the innocence they carry will do it, won't it? It's one of the reasons I dread my children growing up and chose a career with children as the focus. We all need a reminder of that world of blissful naievity now and then.
beautiful! i'm sorry you're down … we all go through that (not to minimize what you're feeling, or anything) but those faces would cheer me up and remind me of the good things in life too. they are just adorable!!
They are too cute and such joyous rays of sunshine. While I have been there (sometimes still am) at losing a shining light, the grief, the sad relief of no more suffering, the overall dark cloud feeling, I also feel completely at a loss for words as there is nothing you can say when someone loses someone. It's the memories that wake you up to the good times, the traditions that you carry on with them in mind, and the innocence of children to keep you moving forward, making new memories and remembering the old.
hugs. We are like you guys, balancing each other and helping each other through the low times. The kids are always the light. Hang in there.
Those are a couple of precious little ones! Keep looking at them! They will continue to remind you of all the is good in the world! Don't forget those moments!
I'm so sorry for the loss and sadness.
I so wish we could have seen each other last week…
I so agree that when you are both down it is just such a different thing to get a handle on. But something about princess dresses and little girls can just make all the bad stuff disappear for awhile. You'll all be up again before you know it, the yo-yo only can stay down so long.
I'm so sorry you've had such a crappy week.
Lovely princesses you have there.
lose yourself in the joy of those faces, babe.
I loved this post so much that i read it to my husband and I NEVER do that. They're beautiful and there's just nothing to lift a sorry heart like the love of children, really.
It's no fun when the sad realities of the world presses in – it can be suffocating.
Little girls and make-believe are a wonderful remedy for the blues for sure!
I'm sorry you've had such a rough week. Thinking of you and your family.
This post definitely puts things into perspective. There is no joy like that of laughing children. They are beautiful. I'm glad they're there for you to help keep you centered in the storm.
Hang in there, Mama. This too shall pass… and better days with your beautiful daughters are in your future…
Thinking about you…
Those girls definitely look like funk lifters! Sorry about all the deaths you've been having to deal with.
and the children shall lead us….
babe, i'm so sorry.
Someone is always there to boost: whether it's boosting the weight of the trailer hitch off you or the weight of the world from your soul. I'm glad you've got your saviours on earth nowadays.
Sorry for the loss in your family. Kids have a way of putting things into perspective sometimes don't they. Dropping by via Growing a Life.
The stuff we experience unexpectedly has a way of crushing us, indeed.
My kids too have a way of breathing life into my hissing balloon . . .
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Am sorry to hear you're blue – hopefully things will and/or have turned around for you by now.
Take care of you!