I ended Friday with a bit of a broken heart. It was a balance of professional disappointment and personal heartache. There are invitabilities in work and home for all of us, lately they just seem to be throttling closer and closer to home in such a way that I get it—
I can’t control it.
I can only impact how I choose to deal with it, which doesn’t make it hurt or infuriate me any less, but there it is. Sean and I talked about what to do, or really, he gently moved to and fro sweeping away any responsibilities I might normally have and every so often saying in a gentle voice, “If you need a run, a walk or just some time, you tell me, ok?” I felt gratitude that neither showed in my eyes, nor traveled to my lips in any intelligible way. The enormity of my lack of authority in what will come rocked me, finally, the girls in the tub and Sean tending to the yard, I stopped.
I was halfway down the stairs and I just leaned back against the wall and slid until I was slumped in a defenseless heap on the landing. I looked out through our screen door and let my eyes blur somewhere between our trees and my fifteenth year. As the tears began to course down my face, cleansing the anger and hurt; I could hear the sounds of a baseball game being played 20+ years ago; words written five years ago hovered before me. Choices, opportunities and new paths all swirled as I let go of wishing I could change things. The girls laughter curled around me, their splashing and negotiating bringing me home. I resolved to be with them, present in yet another thing I cannot control, but can certainly participate in with everything I have.
Today, we did. We played. We imagined. We explored. We delighted. We slept. And they we got up and did it all again.
My heart is still achy, my ego is still tender, but I do know that I have so much to be grateful for and even the hurt that I have has spring from even more blessings.
This day that I was given and these people that I love and who love me back, they make me weep happier tears.