my life has been hectic lately. to say the least. it’s been up and down. on and off. in and out. here and there. hot and cold. bitter and sweet.
every dichotomy you can possibly image…
my boy turns seven in a few weeks. it is so cliche, but so true, to say, “i can’t believe it; where has the time gone?” with every turn of the day, with every pass of the year. i fall more and more in love with my children. i have idyllic reveries of their childhoods and the memories they will carry with them of said time. it’s important to me they are filled with vivid and magical moments of their youth. i need them to remember this time, for some reason, it’s very important to me that they are making memories of being a child!
even though i try very hard to create beautiful memories for them, their lives’ journeys enter and we have to make certain decisions to ensure they are still living and growing well. i do wish they had been born with user’s manuals attached to their feet. right now i would be in the section of gunnar’s manual that best explains how to cope with his obsessive compulsive habits and his anxiety disorders. my boy is in the thick of a tough time, we all are, because, no matter what, we are in this together. we are educating ourselves, talking with professionals, and working on the best approaches for him, and us, to take! i tell him every day that he will “be ok!” i am saying it audibly to him, but i know in my head i am saying, “we will ALL be ok. all of this will be ok.” i know it will. i know we will get it sorted, but somedays it’s just so hard when you see a piece of you struggling so desperately to be happy.
as parents we really only want two things: that our children know they are loved and that they are comfortable in their own skins. everything stems from those two beliefs, at least that’s what i believe. some days, especially lately, i have wanted to jump inside that little boy’s skin and fill him with extra love and confidence so it extends to the very tips of his fingers and toes. i have wanted to speak understanding and compassion so closely to his heart and head. i have wanted to remind him so profoundly that NO MATTER WHAT we are going to figure this all out and that he will, for sure, BE OK!!
we love him. we all love him so much.
it’s the hardest job, isn’t it: being a parent and not always knowing what to do, but hoping that what you choose to do is the best choice for your people. i know he is such a good boy who wants to understand what’s going on inside his body and his head!
every day i wake up and in the stillness of the house wonder, “what will happen today? how will he react to this or that today? how long will my patience last today? will he know, today, he is safe and so loved?” and then he comes into my room, pulls back the covers, and snuggles close to me. and i drink him in, and breath his innocent sweetness, and i tell him and myself, “everything today, will be ok.”
and i hug him so hard he tells me to stop. but i don’t. because i just have to feel so close to him. i have to somehow show him he is not alone and never will be.
gun, you, your life, even what you are experiencing, though it is hard to believe, is a gift. i know it feels so hard to understand, but one day you will have clarity, we all will. for now, we will take it all a day at a time, knowing we have each other, and that everything will sort itself out, and be ok. this is the fabric and texture of your life. it’s who you are, and even though it’s tough and it makes you feel sad and alone, YOU ARE NOT!!! you are so loved by so many people son especially me, dad, and lark! we are going to sort it all out and you will, i promise, be ok! i love you, to the moon and back, and if that’s how far we go to get this stuff understood then that’s how far we go, together!
i love you son, so much!
love you too, lark! you are such a sweet baby who who has been so mellow during this time; thank you for loving your brother through it all and for reminding him you love him!
i love this image, of my bed. the timer went off but the focus wasn’t quit right. doesn’t matter, really. could be considered symbolic of the whole experience we are in right now, nonetheless, i love it:
thanks for reading. it feels, actually, so good to have cried a bit and to have shared!
now i think i will shower and brush my teeth, those two things will feel good too. and on the way to the basin i will pass my boy playing legos. i will stop for a minute, look him in the eyes and say, “everything will be ok. i love you more than you will ever know!” then i’ll plant one wherever he’ll let me!!