He came in the in-between time. In between when I was outside last and outside next. And left a token of esteem. A kindness that touched me beyond words. Perhaps it was because I was feeling so low. Perhaps it was because I was given a glimpse of myself through different eyes. A glimpse that eased the day's pain and made me smile and gave me hope.
He came in the in-between time. In between my last life and the one that is coming. And became my friend. How fortunate am I. A statment, not a question, intentionally.
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Part of being a mother is letting go and still loving. Maybe that is part of being human. Or maybe that is part of being in sync with the Divine. It is hard to let go of what one selfishly wants for one's self in order to allow another to breathe without the pressure of added guilt for their own process.
Yeah. It kind of sucks. And it is kind of a priviledge to be entrusted with that responsiblity.
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He came in the in-between time. In between when I was the mother of a child and when I will be the mother of a man. And I have much gratitude that he is my friend.
1 comment:
Awww. Perhaps it's because he was just crying, or perhaps it's because we wasn't crying enough, but that made him cry again. So much crying. Both good, bad, and unknown.
It was fated that he would read that right now, today, in this moment of uncertainty for everyone and everything. The Switch. As it were, was and ever will be.
You're friendship moves me as it often does.
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