Rise and Swine

When it's the 10th anniversary of the worst day of your life.  The day that stole the breath right out of you...left you bleeding and questioning everything.  BUT you wake and it's NOT the first thought.  In fact, the memories don't visit for hours...It's a good day.  Filled with God's gifts! Blue skies and snow capped mountains Warm rays of sunshine poured upon my face His kiss goodbye Smoked Butterscotch Lattes Tumbleweeds prancing across country roads with as much grace as I usually display The dog didn't puke in the car today...we're making progress His excitement when the train blew its whistle Her beaming smile as she flew out the front door from dance Walking through the door to find that tall one came home early Tickling her chunky rolls and hearing her laugh and coo Her smiles as she "talks" to her daddy Watching her sleep Cornbread smothered in butter and honey made by this one Freckled face boy gro...

I woke to her stirring.  It was unusual as she typically sleeps through the night.  Slowly I reached into her cradle but before I picked her up she began to scream.  Hysterical.  I knew what she wanted - she was hungry.  With fists clinched tight she continued to scream until she drew close and began to suck her milk.  As time passed she loosened her death grip until finally her palms fell wide upon my pillow.  Content...full...at peace...she fell asleep once more. Lying next to her I swept those fine threads of crimson...stroked that chubby cheek...kissed those wee fingers and laid her back within the confines of her cradle. I shook my head. She's like her mama in more ways than one. At times I too hold a death grip of control.  Especially if I'm hungry.  Hungry for love.  Time.  Security.  Pinterest perfection seeps in and I can make everyone living within these walls a bit crazy.  It's true....

And on the 24th year of cupids and candy and hearts she flings the window wide.  She needs a bit of fresh. It's been winter far too long but spring...new life... is panting.  Her heart awaits it and it has nothing to do with the weather. The breeze flows through that open pane like the breath of life she needs.  She stands by the bed folding his laundry and the chimes begin their dance.  A smile spreads her face...their story of the wind-chime.  On the darkest of days... he pulled her close and he whispered it right there in the dark... he had something for her.  He told her every time  it danced to remember he loved her.  He hung it from the eve outside their bedroom window where it stays year round and during the storms it dances the hardest... and never stops.  All those years later she still remembers those words.  At times, clings to those words. She closes her eyes and feels the wind graze across the nape of her neck....

It had been a rough few weeks.  As the insults kept coming from that one whose job was to nurture.  They never did.  Nurture that is.  They're not capable of that kind of love.  She knows this.  Accepted this long ago.  Still - it leaves her wounded.  Despite the pain, she walks another day the best she knows how.  Trying to be to her children what she never got herself.  Trying to keep it all in balance. But the scales of her heart tip when he grumbles impatient about laundry and with her own impatience she snaps back.  What she wanted...needed...was to hear she was good enough.  That she mattered to someone.  That she wasn't a mistake.  She didn't want to hear one more way she just didn't quiet measure up. His searing words were like salt in the wound and she barked loud like a scared wounded dog.  She was looking in the wrong place.  Only God could fill that emptiness but foolishly she pressed...