She pads into our room at dark o’clock and tugs on my shirt.
“I had a bad dream, but I don’t want to talk about it,” Lala says blankly, reciting the script as if by memory.
Even in the middle of the night, I recognize the “storytelling.”
“Are you sure you had a bad dream, honey?” I ask. “Did you come in because you wanted to snuggle with Mama and Papa?”
No answer.
Lala climbs over me, finds a cozy spot in the middle and, within moments, is breathing deeply, alternating inhale-exhale with her father.
What seems like no time later, the radio clicks on with reports of the missing Malaysian airplane and a massive mudslide with people buried and lost just north of Seattle.
I lay in the dark, a light breeze blowing through the half-open window, and it makes no sense why I am here. Sharing a bed with these two loves while my two others sleep down the hall in the warm comfort of their bedroom. The girls’ lullaby music plays on repeat, and I breathe the familiar peace, while across the world and up the road others grapple and mourn and scream within the thick of their true nightmares.
No answers.
I know to do nothing but pray for the missing, the lost and all those broken hearts as I feel the aching love in my own — extending with each inhale and exhale.
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Joining with Heather King of The Extraordinary Ordinary and Just Write — an exercise in free writing ordinary moments.
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
so beautifully expressed ashley. the agonies and the sweet little ecstasies of life here. thank you for this honey. xox
Such a strange thing to hold as humans – these agonies and sweet little ecstasies side by side – but hold them we must, it seems. I love you.
exactly ashley……that is exactly how it is, isn’t it……there is no place for reason or “making sense”…we just hold our gratitude and grieve with and for your sisters and brothers…and cry out to God.
That’s just right, friend. Gratitude for you…
Wow… wow. Yup, no answers. Sometimes that has to be okay – the lack of answers. I like that you said it – just let the unanswered questions hang open. <3
There’s such a (self-imposed?) push sometimes to wrap the ends up, make some mysterious thing make sense somehow. Seems more honest and God honoring to not do that in the face of the mournful and tragic. I appreciate your presence here as always, Dana.
Beautifully expressed.
Thank you, friend.
Love this- l felt as I was there, feeling all sorts of feelings. Let the unanswered questions hang open- just beautiful!
Grateful for you, Jennifer.
Beautiful words for the feelings so many of us grapple with…life continues to be FULL of so much love & Loss!!!
So full that we can’t hold all the parts. Probably as it’s intended, I’m thinking.
I love these kinds of writes. Just a glimpse into a moment that says so much more than the words put down. You’re right. No answers. Just prayers. I’m learning to pray from a thousand questions and being ok with the ache.
Me too. It’s an ongoing journey to pray and release my grip from the middle of the ache. So much of me wants to fill it or soothe it somehow, so to let the questions be…ugh. Thank you for getting this, and me.
I loved how this captured the fragile peace of an ordinary morning. Sometimes all you can do is pray for those in trouble and count your blessings.
Thank you, Larks. (I don’t know if you noticed our last names. I actually have a niece named Megan Larkin. :-) ) I appreciate your words here…”fragile peace” is such a perfect summation. Bless you.