Yesterday, despite finding our perfect tulips, was not such a perfect day. Both Brad and I struggled all day with Ella, and Zane found himself quite needy and very vocal about it. I was frustrated and angry several times during the day with my children. At times it seems like life is returning back to normal more than I care for. Haven't I been changed? Haven't I seen how precious each day is with my children? Haven't I learned not to waste my energy and emotions on anger? Sadly, I don't appear to have been given immunity to my human nature.
Brad and I purchased hammered silver bands for each other before Sully was born. They arrived in the mail while he was here with us. On one of those warm afternoons the three of us sat in the backyard while the wind brushed across our faces, and we gave each other our rings, or rather, we said Sully gave us our rings. We wanted to have something to always keep before us to remind us of our days with him, to remind us of what was truly important, to remind us of the love and grace that was carrying us through the hardest time of our lives.
Not long after Sully died, Brad and I meandered through the woods behind our house and talked about what should be inscribed inside our rings. Brad, in his wisdom, said that even though at those moments we felt like we could never forget the lessons we had learned, could never get angry with our kids again, never be frustrated with one another or friends or what have you, that it wouldn't be long before we found ourselves there again. The current of life and taking it for granted quickly sweeps you back in. That's when we talked of the song "For Real" I posted a while back; "let's be kind to each other, not forever but for real." Isn't that the temptation for me, to say that I will be forever different? But what this hammered metal on my finger reminds me to do is to love for real, to love even when I am angry and frustrated, to look for that same grace to carry me through struggles with my children, my husband, my friends. We are hammered by life, but I believe in a God who makes all things beautiful.
"As some rare perfume in a vase of clay,
Pervades it with a fragrance not its own,
So, when Thou dwellest in a mortal soul,
All Heaven's own sweetness seems around it thrown."
"Abide in me; there have been moments blest
When I have heard Thy voice and felt Thy power;
Then evil lost its grasp; and passion, hushed,
Owned the divine enchantment of the hour."
"These were but seasons beautiful and rare;
Abide in me, and they shall ever be"
Harriet B. Stowe
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3 comments:
I know I felt that way after I suffered a miscarriage a year and a half ago. I lost my baby in the 2nd trimester. I was forever changed and had hoped that I would always be joyful and would never take my children, husband or friends for granted. But I am human and sometimes they DO test my patience! Be extra kind to yourself - you have been through so much and you ARE forever changed. And you WILL sometimes lose your cool and that's ok. Simply because of what you have gone through - when you look at the overall picture of your life, these little moments of imperfection and frustration will not define you... they will be little reminders of what IS important.
A week or so after the surgery, my daughter said to me, "Oh Mommy, everything is going to be okay. There is always a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow." Pretty interesting insight for a 4 year old. Hmmm... well, okay then!
Wow... beautiful and poignant.
You are right.
We are forever changed.
I remember the night Carter died... I had several closest friends sitting around me on my living room floor... I will never forget that night... and I remember saying two things to them: "This changes me" and "This is just the beginning"...I didn't realize just how very true those spoken words were.
But we as stated above... we are still human. But yet we have a different perspective. And that is a gift.
Much love to you.
Your post reflects something I've experienced too, the sadness at losing track of lessons learned through loss. I just can't live out of them every minute. I think that, with time and work, we do get our lag tie down, returning more and more quickly to the wisdom we have learned the hard way. But there is no perfection in humanity, only love.
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