Loss

Calvin is still doing fantastic. Last night he slept from 11-8! I thought I woke on that solo vacation I've been dreaming about. But no, there he was snorting, smiling, and craning his head towards the light from the window. We haven't slept like that in almost two years.

I have no idea how long this good stretch will last. It's the longest it's ever been, perhaps due to the summer weather and lack or respiratory issues that always put him in such a downward spiral. I worry about this fall and winter but for now it's all enjoyment and relief in our home.

This peaceful stretch has made me realize some level of normalcy again in life and how stressful it is to be living in constant loss and suffering. I wrote a small little piece on loss. One of my weaknesses may be feeling things too much, but I that's all I know how to do. Feel it, think it, write it.

Loss comes in different ways. I've been thinking about my friend's mom with Parkinson's, a girl recently separated from her husband and struggling to care for her disabled daughter, a father fighting cancer, a family whose children have been unjustly taken away. I think all of those situations, especially those that surprise us, leave us with these sentiments.

The cool thing about having a blog is you can write what you like. So here it is folks, the editor's nightmare. And that's okay. I have no idea if it's poetry, an essay, or just freehand words. Whatever it is, it spilled out on paper and I wonder if you can relate to it too.

LOSS

Loss sweeps you off your feet.  

It comes, uninvited, with no apology

It lifts you up, tips you upside-down

and shakes you til you're empty

and it's hard to find any piece of you left.

It broadsides you. You may be 

looking up at the sun, reaching 

for the next mercy that's before you.

It hits you from behind and your feet,

they flail wildly unable to touch

the ground and find security, stability.

Survival makes them quiet. Makes

them set down beneath you and move

forward shakily on this new ground.

Your hearts stays behind but your feet

they move, driven by routine,

producing a stilted rhythm but

it's in moving that your heart keeps 

its beating and your life keeps on living.

They say time heals. Maybe it does.

But when I look back I still see

a deep, deep, hole. It has a sign

called LOSS at the edge. And a face

of a little boy there. 

What face do you see?

But these feet shuffling forward 

point my eyes to another spot. It is 

a sign with GAIN written all over.

It also has the picture of 

a little boy there. 

In the folds of His providence

there are mercy treasures and 

unexpected joys that my tired eyes 

and slow heart never thought to see.

It continues beyond even what my 

eyes can see.

                                                                    So all these holes and 
                                                             all these mercies exist, together.

The gains do not erase the loss.

And the loss opens our hearts to

gains we never imagined.