All I feel right now is a need to write.

 

There are a few things in life that make me feel truly happy and comfortable. Simple things really. The feel of my baby blanket against my face when i wake up in the middle of the night, a warm  shower on a cold winter morning, the steam awakening my senses, a warm towel scented with fabric softener, the feeling I get post vocal-performance, when I know I did the best I could and I'm shaking from the sheer lack of control that brought my voice out, the adrenaline rush i get from riding on the bow of a boat with fresh air hitting my face.

But none of these thing have been of much comfort to me as of late. I run to these details, hoping for them to return some semblance of order to my life, but to little avail.

So many mornings have passed recently where I have been awake when the sun came up, already fighting off the anxieties of my past and how they will affect the day to come. Mornings where i try to put away the pain of the night before, whether it be emotional or physical, and unable to separate it I pull the covers over my head and wish to be unconscious. 

But something strange happened this weekend. The sun peaked through the window into the living room at about 630 am, and i heard the slight sound of pattering feet against the carpet. I rolled over and faced the back of the couch, knowing that it was Grace and that if I didn't pretend to be asleep she would beg me for a walk and breakfast. This time however the pattering stopped, at the end of the couch and I felt a slight weight on my stomach. I look up to see an infant resting her head on me. She sees me look at her and giggles, and at that moment suddenly the joy that I've been looking for no longer lives in my dreams. My dream world that i hate waking up from and reality, have merged with this little girl.

I don't really know if it was the ability to care for her, fix her problems, hold her, or just her laugh. But the innocents of this little girl, and the pureness of her love and delight in me, restored a piece of me that I hadn't felt in months. Hope.

And as I pulled her onto my chest and let her fall asleep there, I felt greater love and comfort than any word that had ever been spoken to me…

Since she's left I've come to grips with the fact that I lost a lot of myself this year, I'm trying to piece that together. Its going to take time and strength…

And 14 words, sent thoughtlessly and with unclear intentions, cannot remotely begin to help restore that.