Monday, August 3, 2009

Sitting Still

Sitting on the deck in a lounge chair, listening to cheerful birds chatter as the soft wind whistles through tree leaves. Across the lake someone is playing Celtic music - just the flute playing – soft, mournful and simple - echoing off the mountains - hugging the lake with a sound of despair and hope mixed in a maze of sweet melody. The wind carries the lake water to the beach, as it gently licks the shore. The clouds above the mountains are grey and still, hovering like a crowd of people waiting for something to happen. But the clouds know better. Only they can make it happen – the outpouring and release of rain is up to them – only they decide when to crack open and spill all that has been held with in.

It has been the summer of rain. The clouds unable to retain much – always spilling out onto the land. And the days that do remain dry, carry a wind that is slow and wet, the clouds threatening to crack at any moment. It feels as though the earth is mourning – mourning for the spirit of a people that are broken – that hold onto hope and optimism – but who are cracking on the inside. I feel I need to take my cue from the clouds and stop waiting for something to happen. I must spill what remains in my cracked spirit – must spill the sorrow, hurt, shame and fear. And only when the last drop has been purged from the very depths of my soul, only then, will I begin to heal.

The flute music has stopped. The wind is still. All that remains is a cheerful chattering bird, and the heavy clouds.


9 comments:

Michelle said...

There are tears in my eyes. I have no words...

I feel lucky to know someone as honest as you. The description of the lake and the rain struck me as so poignantly beautiful, and then to connect it to your own feelings and struggle? You are quite a writer and quite a mom.

Keep spilling. You're not the only one who's feeling better.

lisathayer said...

Alice ~ A perfect description of the lake. I remember those clouds! I am so glad you found and outlet....This is your calling. I've said it before and I'll say it again ~ you are an inspiration!!

Red said...

i have written the "mom of a sick kid" blog in my head countless times each day for the last two and a half years. unfortuntaly, it remains in my head. one of these days we'll have to commiserate
xoxoxo

Niki said...

Dearest Alice, once again, your word move me. Your comparison of the clouds raining, to your emotions spilling, is just so perfect. I could not have said it better myself! Having such vulnerable moments as the one where you found your self crying aloud an "orphaned ugly cry" can be so liberating. Finally setting yourself free from this image that most of us Mother's find ourselves portraying, as if we are the lead actress in a broadway show, and allowing others to see our true authentic selves, (and not caring what our reviews will be), is such a frightning and brave thing to do. Not easy at all, and hope you cancontinue to do so for your own mental health! =) Kisses ~n

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sue maki said...

Alice,
Your Mom sent me your blog link and I have just read all of your postings. You have an amazing way with words to have captured such raw emotion. Keep at it, you will inspire and help others while soothing yourself at the same time. As a mother of an adult child with ADHD, I had many days when he was small that I felt so alone, so overwhelmed, so unqualified to keep him safe from harming himself with his impulsive behavior. It can be so isolating to be the parent of a child who has needs that we can't fix, take away, or change. We do the best we can, yet still feel like failures. I admire your ability to verbalize what so many Moms feel every single day.
Much love,
Sue Maki

Terri-Lynne said...

I'd no idea, lovey. I mean, I did, but when you mention it, it's always sort of in passing.

The worst thing in the world is to watch your child suffer. I know your pain, my dear! For me, and for Chris, the worst of it is over, at least for now. His leg will never be whole again. There will be more surgery down the line. There will be pain when he gets older. But--this is a HUGE but, Alice--it changed him as a person, and THAT was the only way I could help him.
Kids faced with adversity are so much more capable of rising to the occassion than we give them credit for. It makes them people they'd never have been otherwise. That is what you have to look to now. You can't take away Rose's arthritis. No matter how you rage or cry or wish, it's there. It's going no where. Don't waste time on something you can't change. Instead, find the positive. There IS a positive. Yin and yang, love. Yin and yang.
Rose will take her cues from you more than anyone else. If you treat her like some broken thing, she will BE that broken thing. The hardest thing I have ever done in my life was making Chris get up off the couch to do things for himself when doing so was so hard, so painful. But I made him, because if I did everything for him, if I pitied him, he'd still be on that couch, paralyzed from the knee down. I pushed him. He got so angry with me, but I pushed him further. And look at him now.

Rose is a wonderful, talented, brilliant little girl who happens to have arthritis. She is NOT her arthritis. It can either be a part of her as a whole living being, or it can define her. Don't let it define her.

Love you. Feel better. See you the end of the month. XX~Terri