Cold Seasoned Warmth
Some of the most beautiful weather this year has been in the last two months.
The months that are usually cold, windy and dark have been filled with light, warmth and beauty.
I love beauty. My soul craves it on a level beyond my comprehension.
I love my boys. I don’t think that I’ve ever enjoyed them more than I have these last few months. I love the post nap snuggles, their small hands and obsession with getting dirty.
We worked outside today for hours, all together as a family and my heart ached with joy and the sorrow for the families of the shooting. The sun felt warm and I took my coat off after awile and felt the heat of the December sun on my back. I leaned into my work and stopped hearing anything but my breath and the sound of the rake against the leaves. Methodically I created piles as I moved around my yard and saw ground I’d never taken the time to look at closely before. The longer grass clung root deep and I combed it out.
I let myself be pulled away from my work by the boys laughter and smiled as they jumped in the leaf piles because being finished really didn’t matter.
These moments, this time is so fleeting and fragile. I hug my boys a little tighter today and let myself grieve.
To Love Myself: Comparison and Grief
I think my favorite time of day is when Bug goes to bed. He is non-stop energy and runs around the house all of his waking hours. He needs constant steering and direction, from the gentle to the stern, he is verbally draining as well as physically.
I feel sometimes I’m simply doing nothing right or well with him. I tell him the same thing every day and it doesn’t seem to sink in. He has large blue eyes and sometimes I’m so distracted by his adorable nature that I don’t follow through as well as I should. I don’t talk about him a lot on here because everything with him is exhausting and (seems to be) poorly done. All of his milestones were done ahead of time and there is a bright intelligence and understanding that startles me sometimes.
I guess it’s impossible not to compare children although we tell ourselves we shouldn’t or can’t. He is nothing like Bear was at this age. My mind is boggled at what he can do already. Perhaps it’s because Bear was behind, smaller and frailer. I think of how he struggled for every little achievement and my joy when it happened. Bug is literally already skipping past him in some areas, three years younger and the injustice of it all brings tears to my eyes when I see it happening.
I don’t always feel this way. I get it, I know I can’t compare an apple and an orange. I just try to forget, tell myself Bug is “normal” and stuff it down. But it’s always there like an unhealed old injury. Maybe I need to be reset somehow. I don’t know, life is confusing, dark and hard enough without having conflicting feelings popping up inconveniently in a good time.
But that is usually how it is, isn’t it. Anytime life is good, other things pop up to tarnish it. Maybe it is a kindness actually, we are able to sift through pain and grow as people when we aren’t just struggling to breathe in.
The last 5 years have been hard. The years before that were pretty easy. Today life is good and rich, but with little thorns here and there. I”m happy, enjoying that rare feeling on a regular basis now. I don’t want to go to a dark place again but it’s impossible not to occasionally glimpse into the unlit place I have come from.
Maybe that’s what makes us grow too… to see where we’ve come from but just not allow ourselves back in that place. I’m happy that I’m growing and learning, perhaps I’ll some day have this figured out, or at least have more of a peace, but regardless, I’m just happy I’m ok today.
