I have spent so much time lately seeking a place of quiet. A mental place of rest, if you will.
Tonight I found myself unexpectedly alone, as my MIL is at PopPop’s for the night (so that she can sleep in tomorrow) and my husband is out with friends.
A little while ago, I went upstairs to check on my sleeping children. I stood, in the dark, at the top of the stairs and listened. Why is it that despite my terrible hearing, I can always hear all three of them breathing? Clearly, I can make out three separate little breaths, peacefully going in…and out.
Standing at the top of the steps, in the dark, listening to the sounds of my healthy, living children filled me with a sense of quiet I have not felt in a long time.
There are many things wrong, in my life, right now. Many. But as I stood there I realized that just these three little people make up for all of it.
Someone recently suggested, after a fashion, that I don’t love my children as I should. That I don’t give motherhood the compassion and introspection that I should. Maybe it’s true, at least from time to time, as I am human and I am far from perfect. I am not always proud of myself- far from it. However, it is in the quiet moments like this one that I know, deep down, that she was wrong. I may not express how I feel well. I may, in fact, be really bad at it (just ask my husband, lol). I tend to harp on the things I feel safe complaining about: things I know someone else can relate to and therefore validate my frustration. I tend to NOT bring up the things I’m profoundly grateful for. It’s not because those feelings of awe, wonder and gratitude aren’t there. It’s because to me they are so hugely obvious, so profoundly all-consuming, that I don’t realize that I need to express it.
That’s not really a good thing, I think. Because love like this- it’s meant to be shared. It’s meant for my children to hear, for my husband to see and for everyone that comes in contact with me to sense.
The only problem is that words can’t touch it. There is nothing I could ever hope to say that could express my feelings about what it really is to be a mother. Nothing. I feel similarly about being a wife. To be perfectly honest, I feel this way about many of my friendships, too. The truth is that life is incredible. Even when it sucks.
