Lunar eclipse on winter solstice underway. Sitting in a chilly living room with my Christmas tree the only light other than the laptop. Feeling fractured and helpless amid my younger son's struggles right now, by turns enraged and defeated.
I want more than anything to say I have done everything I want to do, but today--and a couple other things--remind me that I have much to do. Still. Promises to keep, mostly in the spirit of wanting to eliminate the negative in my life. Which means acceptance of stuff that I have been rejecting--loudly, frequently gracelessly and artlessly.
I feel helpless in the face of my sons' struggles sometimes. Tonight, I sat sobbing on the kitchen floor, and my older son came running from the other room, almost as if he were a toddler again, laughing, kissing my face, hugging me, then jumping up and getting me a glass of water, standing over me, making sure I was okay, then dashing back into the other room, going back about his business.
He is clumsy, but compassionate, and possesses a heart bigger than mine. I smile through my tears, thinking that he is a beautiful kid.
And my little one, also a beautiful child, climbing into my lap and wordlessly comforting me when no one else notices that I need it. These are the reminders I need--that my kids do not want for compassion and empathy, despite the fact that they aren't supposed to have much of either.
My children are the delight and pain of my heart. And for them I want to forgive. And sometimes, that is enough.