I woke up to raindrops and my kids come home today.
The rushing winds and falling sky replenish the life the sun has stolen,
but the sounds of life on earth will be drowned out
by the sounds of life that tore through me.
They were each mine for a time then they were ours and now I have to share them
I have to trust they won’t be destroyed with the love that nearly destroyed me
The path of healing is steep and full of thorns that catch you when you aren’t ready
The first days of loss weren’t just my battle to rage.
The heavy bag swung and rattled with fury spent,
post rage teens were sobbing in my arms
Hands that reached for us and held us in love were forging pain with what they were given
There were no words to unleash the pain that was in hearts, under skin,
and we made raw knuckles and tender wrists excuses to cry
Thunder shakes the sky and ground in a mirror of the anger that I pray away late at night
when the only sounds loud enough to hear are the shifting landscape of a life we planned
and the growing pains from a life I can’t control right now
My kids come home today so I can be Mom and being a sister and daughter can wait
I will see faces I’ve missed and kiss cheeks and I will hold my babies.
I will inhale their scent and engrave the moment in my memory when they are with me
because those moments sustain me when my babies are away.
I used to fret over a night at Grandma’s, and now I endure 5 days at a time
I fill my bed with stuff as a placeholder, that was once a spouse and is now a child
sometimes he’s content with space
other times he lays on top of me, trapped in the comfort required in infancy at 9 years old
The thunderstorm rages its fury outside and for a few days
I won’t have to wonder if they’ll answer my call.
Respecting the boundaries they set, I tell them my calls are just to tell them I love them
because I know I’m loved I think I’m loved I may not be needed
I feel excitement and joy and worry and fear in the moments where the sun is hiding
the clouds pour out their burdens and the thunder announces its rage
at some point the clouds will disperse enough to let me know the sun was always there
a rainbow will cut the sky in hope and beauty
and my life will imitate the art of nature