I am not a rock

It seemed she was doing better. The healing was in progress. So I thought. She fell back. Sorrow filling her life and overflowing through her eyes everyday. She needs me, I can feel it. She just wants me to be there, with her. And I want to be like a rock. Solid. Something she can lean on. But I am not. I can offer a pebble or two of thought. I can help her gather her feelings and sort them through. But in this instance there is not much more I can do. So little. So fragile is the presence I offer. The pain she is hauling, I know to be very deep. I can only imagine... and admire her strength. But will she overcome this without harm ? Will she ever give her heart this way again ? I am afraid. The darkness she is traveling through, I could not face. I will not leave her to walk alone. But I am not a rock. I am not.

Mothership

For the past few weeks, my attention has been turned toward my daughter, going through a difficult breakup. This situation called for all my love and concentration. My existence was synched to her needs. To listen mostly. To sigh with her. To hold her. And then some guiding. But she found her own way most of the time.

Funny how life works sometimes. I was facing something that seemed overwhelming. It took up so much space in my mind. It was so big, I didn't know where to begin. But this little hiatus from myself gave me some distance and actually may have helped. I'm still overwhelmed but in a quite different way. Of course, I would have preferred not to see my daughter get hurt. But being the Mothership in such a beautiful way did me much good. I discovered in my daughter a wonderfully strong young woman, and the strength of our relationship was once again confirmed.

The journey has been long. But I have done good.

PHOTO : Mia, sculpture by Renée Bolduc (detail). One of my three sculptures by this artist. If it was up to me, I'd have one in every room of the house !

Puzzled

On with the puzzle metaphor mentionned in a previous post. This is what my soul feels like right now. A bunch of pieces that need to be assembled. BUT I don't know what the reference image is. I just have a pile a pieces that don't seem to have anything to do with each other. Here and there, a colour or a texture maybe. Otherwise, just a mess.

That's where the metaphor stops for me. With a puzzle, you'd start by turning each piece to see it's colour. Spreading them out. Then putting together the pieces that seem to go together. Setting aside borders and corners... But I can't do this with my life. Or can I ?

Now what ?

Ok. So I found the last piece. Well, it's not the last piece but it's a big one. It's a key. It unscrambles many parts of my life. Many things fit now... that did not fit before. But I still do not understand. I am unable to see. And I lack the strenth to look into this new light, to dig into the drawers and pull out the things I so carefully folded away. What now ? I don't know what to do with this. But I do. And I won't... But I should. Or not.