Perhaps the beauty of mamahood is that one never does have enough peace of mind or just peace enough to ever write about it. The chaos of folding laundry over and over, picking up bottles, washing bottles, filling up bottles, warming up bottles, picking up toys, playing with toys, cooking, cleaning, reading the same cardboard books over and over, incessant planning, non-stop worrying, completing a Masters, working on a citizenship application, soothing a sick baby who caught a cold at his swimming lesson, taking baby to his swimming lessons every week, physical therapy for the yet-to-be-healed body from birth, trying to keep up with the remnants of a long-past social circle, evolving into new person oneself,
I run outside my breath, a gasp. My feet stop, in shock. The moon is full tonight. A breeze slides over my skin. The tide… still crashes on the shore. I try to breathe. I can’t. How has the time not stopped… tonight? I go to the sea. We sit. We wonder. We reminisce. We wonder how many school lunches they spent to fell… a man of his might. The sea takes me in her arms, whispers words of comfort just as meaningless tonight as they have been, for years. He was a man I never met, but with all the pride, and ferocity, of a sister I call him my brother. He was a man I mourn tonight, as the sea’s waves lap at my feet. Blanketed by the dark, there is no one around. I wish I could drown, that the sea will swallow me whole. I feel helpless. The weight of the world… is heavy tonight. I give charity in his name. I pray for him. I hold him in my heart. Every tear that falls from my eyes carries his name, like a cherished pearl. Morning takes me by surprise. ...
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