The day after the "eruption" we wake up and start the day again.
We stayed calm during the crisis, but now we are coughing up repercussions of the day before. The volcanic ash sprinkles dust on our souls. We are tired and my head is pounding and hubby is a little bit more tense than usual.
Our daughter apologizes for having a "fit." I tell her it is fine and that I forgive her. But she too feels the thrumming of the drum of repercussion beating in her, so she asks again and again. Hours apart, but she asks again. Again and again, I reassure her that she is loved and forgiven. We hug and seal our love.
The day continues, a fresh start.
We begin again.
This is good and right.
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