// “Her water broke.”//
…
I’m grateful for babies. For all the joy and boundaries and second chances they bring. the joy in the midst of anger, heartache, darkness that feels like you can’t return from. Anger that you feel like you can never come back from. Now, is given as a gift, back to the ocean the same way the love, the care, once was. Poured and poured and poured without ever asking— “Is that enough?”
Let the river flow. The tears. The flash flood rains from the sky. When Mother herself tells you, in her own way, it’s too much. It’s too much to hold. When you kept saying yes. okay. A hope that turned into a promise that never came with a vow. Time is a construct. For you call this the past, a memory. Then how can I look at your face now and still see it resting there, as if it’s some dormancy you can see? reach out and touch?
There is no past, no future. This presence holds it all here, if you allow it you see.
Is that what the gift is? The curse, if you call it so.
Is that what you’re so afraid of? All your hats being stitched together? Would they all show up for your presence?
I’m grateful for babies. For the swaddling of grief and joy, then given a name.
🌀