Watershed

Some days it feels like all we have to go on is this reflection of life,

I find myself bare-knuckle seizing these refracted light images of things that are bigger,

stronger and more expansive than I can imagine.



I hope that this stolen still water glimpse of what is above my head,

what might be,

is true,

but I struggle to believe it.

Because as much as I may think I need it, this life is not written...

There is no way for me to skip to the last chapter and confirm,

in the end we all live happily ever after.

Instead, we have today,

and today is the first day of Eva Luna's chemotherapy.

In the midst of many tears and trips for new scarves,

(because who could bare to wear an insulting wig in the hot heat of summer)

we silently wonder and hope, "will this work?"

While bravely scaling this rocky-sided story arc of life,

our ropes suddenly slipped and we are bounced into another cavern.

A small light was born too early and too sick,

and now we must again wait and find a way to love an entire life everyday,

hour by hour,

we breathe slow and deep,

and wait.

Here, we know the last chapter,

and I am so grateful there is no book to read,

so, thank you, holy mysteries, that this too is not yet written.

I can look back and see peaks and valleys,

and can fairly scale and map the distances in the future for this journey.

But I really just want to be able look up,

and enjoy the view...

because

"

when you are learning to face the path at your pace

every choice is worth your while

"

(Watershed, Indigo Girls)

so as Sinead says,

thank you for breaking my heart,
thank you for tearing me apart,
Now, I've a strong, strong heart,
thank you for breaking my heart.