28 January 2014
Morning light shines through my bedroom window. Today is a day of tears. Watering the vast fields of our hearts, they rain over me until long past sunset and into the cold evening of winter. I sit and watch from my window. I watch the world dream and the sun ascend, quiver in her brilliant high heat, then surrender to darkness. Quietly I watch, for I honor the sacredness of sorrow, and I do not judge my grief, for her seasons keep time with eternity and defy human affairs neatly arranged on calendars. Mourning selfishly claims what is hers, strips the impervious garments that cover our innocence, and embraces our barren hopes. Fearlessly I weep, and I feel the pain of all the regrets and what-ifs and maybes. For only when one knows fear and loss deeply can fearlessness appear within the warrior.
I know that this is the warrior's way, yet today I am no warrior: i am broken and humbled by this lord of grief. I breathe and I cry and I burn with understanding anger. I breathe and I cry and I eat chocolate to my heat's content. Still, my grief remains, patiently guarding my attempts at escape. Ever watchful, she carries the cup of bitterness that is the required medicine for eventual rebirth.
I want something large to understand and to hold me close, and so I imagine that I am sitting by the ocean - vast and powerful. Here the ocean accepts my tears without explanation. This is my place of serenity, and I take my time. I need to be alone with this sorrow today. Sitting cross legged in the sand, I hold a garland of forget-me-nots and daisies in my lap - prayer beads that touch my brokenness and soothe my heart. As the ocean sings, I whisper to my son:
This is for your, Malachi. All of my love, my hope for you, is that you are now blessed with peace and know the joyous laughter that I once knew through your unceasing, joyful play. I ask for your forgiveness for the wrongs that I have done, any harm that I may have caused you through my own confusion, selfishness, and searching. I am grateful that you and I were together in this life as mother and son; you brought me so much joy. Far greater than my worries for you is my appreciation for your amazing spirit; larger than our shortcomings is the ocean of our love.
This is for you, Malachi - my precious son. I wear now this garland of flowers as a reminder of my unconditional love and our unbreakable friendship, on this earth and forever within the Great Mystery.
I am not healed or cured of my grief. I come to know my humanity through this gift, and today it is enough. Enough to be bruised and softened by my own understanding, and to wear with compassion this warrior's sorrow.