scribblechic

Last week struggling with decisions for my son and overwhelmed by uncertainty, I couldn’t find a way to gather my thoughts. Here, where strangers and only a handful of my closest friends read what I could not say, I imagined the words tumbling out of my heart on a deep and broken exhale. I began to give voice to my doubts, casting light in the dark.

My husband and I exchanged worries like mismatched socks trying to find a place for our emotions while looking helplessly for answers. Throughout this process we were ever conscious of our son’s experience. The weight of his emotions helping us step outside our thoughts and leading us to look beyond the chaos toward our son’s truths. Love declutters life’s uncertainties with uncomplicated knowing.

Our son is joyful and kind, loyal and conscientious, eager to please and a believer in things unproven. In waking moments when peace eludes him, his body and mind pulled in different directions, I look past has angry words and frustration allowing love to invite light and lend form to his unrest.

With each hurtful moment I feel a small sorrow, a harm that even forgiven is difficult to forget. A safe place to exhaust his unhappiness, our family weathers each difficult moment wearing our own hurt on our sleeves. My husband and I struggle to understand while our daughter disappears into her own corner of our home.

We each recede in search of comfort only to gather again, reclaiming our places on waves of familiar habits. It is a rhythm to a song whose steps we move to blindly. Loving one another together and separately through out seasons of joy and sadness. Love lighting the dark corners with hope and faith.

Tagged: Family, Love, Musings, Son