Sunday, August 23, 2015

It's An Attempt At Least

It would be impossible to count how many times in the last few months I've said to myself, "I need to sit down and write."  Not to write an update, but to write for myself.  To give a voice to the thoughts ... the hopes ... the fears ... to everything that begs to be spoken.

I've worried that I simply can't write anymore - that whatever it was that once inspired me is now gone.  I've worried that someone might be burdened by my stories, and if I'm being honest with myself, I've worried that if I post all of it, the good with the bad, someone would confront me with it in real life.  Not that the confrontation would be bad, not at all.  It's just that a part of me would like to keep the words on this page separate from the reality that is my every day.  It's just easier that way ... less messy ... less emotion to feel.

A few days ago the emotions of my heart and the reality of my every day collided and I've been fighting the aftermath ever since.

I saw a girl at work, someone I haven't seen or spoken to in years.  About the time we were in the thick of things with Emily, she was dealing with two of her sweet little girls being diagnosed with a very rare form of cancer, and they were doing everything they could to find a way to do bone marrow transplants for both of her girls.

I tentatively asked about her girls, and she told me that they were doing well considering everything they had been through, and that daily they were dealing with the long-term results of the treatments that saved her girls' lives...at least for now.

Just as tentatively she asked me about Emily.

We talked for a few more minutes and then she said, "It's hard isn't it?  You guard your heart because it just hurts too much, and you hope and pray that you'll have days and years to come with them."  And with her words, it was like a dam broke, and I was reminded of all that we had been through, of all that my sweet girl still goes through every single day, and of all that still lies ahead of us...ahead of Emily.

I cried then, tears that were hidden by sunglasses, but only for a minute before the tears reached my cheeks.

I've been crying off and on every day since.

Tonight I put my head down on my mom's kitchen table and just let the tears come.
"The heartbreak is too much today Mom," I said quietly.  "It's just too much."

And on top of the heartbreak is guilt that I even feel the heartbreak...
Yes, I know I'm blessed to have her.
I know that it could be worse.
I know that she's much better off than so many other little ones.
I know all of that and so much more...

But knowing all of that doesn't change the fact that my beautiful little girl was born with some pretty steep mountains to climb.  

And although the good days far outweigh the bad, the heartbreak I feel is always there underneath the surface.

I've done my best to make peace with the fact that the heartbreak will most likely stay with me throughout this life.  And as long as I can have a day or two here and there where I just let myself feel  it for what it is, I'm okay.

Every single day of my life I cling to the promise that God has given to all of us: that some day He will make it right, all of it.

And when that day comes for my beautiful girl, well it will be the best day this mommy's heart ever has.




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