Tired I am and sad.
The days too long. The nights too short.
I miss my boy, hate the disconnection. The space between us.
All I had wished for swept away in this hurricane.
I find it so and too difficult to tolerate this break in relationship.
In reaching out and receiving no response I suffer the torment of what, him punishing me?
I know that this is not the end of story. Yet, I long, pine for – restoration. Not just restoration of this precious wee family, oh if only we could see that!; but even more to see the heart of my beloved son made whole, healed of all its pain.
It is, in fact, “early days” from this latest crisis...but this story started many, many years ago and I grow weary.
To think of what lies behind and of what lies ahead is monumental. To traverse, to climb this mountain seems a feat unattainable.
Baby steps, my counsellor says, baby steps. Neither focus on the past nor the future. Stay here, now. Take one step, just one step, one foot in front of the other and just keep on baby-stepping.
Even one step somehow, feels gargantuan.
On this balancing-beam, my life, I move slowly, carefully, forward.
Just one step.
One baby step.
At a time.
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