Pool of awareness.............

I woke this morning with a need to work through the feelings that have been swirling through my heart and mind in the last day or so.  Writing has become a way for me to pull those emotions and thoughts out, identifying them, sorting through them and then determining what to do with them.  It is me slowing down, laying them before the Lord and asking for discernment and wisdom in the pain.  I am asking this morning, what to do with this awakened pain.

 
The last few days have been warm and balmy and the thaw of winter is upon us. The birds have been chirping loudly each morning singing the song of the promise of a new day.  My Crocuses that pop their heads out with determination each spring have done so with royal beauty.   Yesterday I cut and pulled all of the lifeless weeds around them so that their beauty could be fully seen.  There was a huge pile of snow in the middle of my back patio that lay upon my outdoor carpet.  I shoveled and chipped away at the icy pile in the morning, hoping to see it melt and then be able to swing on my patio swing in the late afternoon and take in its peace; it has always been my “happy place”.   The snow melted and I sat down with my dinner plate and began to swing.

 
With each swing my heart did not find peace, but pain.  Many wonderful moments were spent on that porch with my precious son; they all came flooding at me.  It was on that patio that I cut his dreads in laughter and disgust. It was on that patio that he strummed his guitar many nights next to the fire, leading us in worship and laughter.  It was this time last year that he sprawled out on the warm patio floor and read one of his thought provoking books while I swung next to him on my swing with my book; each stopping along the way to share thoughts and questions.  I remember thinking how this was the sweet beginning of our adult life together, he was moving into a new phase of life.  As a mom those moments of watching your child move out of one phase and closer to a maturing, life giving phase are treasurable.  I will treasure those moments forever.  The memories of those moments are my Ryan now.   I can no longer reach over and touch that crazy head of hair, step into that big strong embrace smelling the scent of Ryan or whack him on the shoulder for an inappropriate comment.  I am forced to live with memories.  

 
For almost a year I have been preparing for the reality of living without Ryan.  It has been a preparation of truth for the truth of death is not something our minds can comprehend instantly; it is too painful.  I feel as though my heart has been protected by the winter ice, preserving it for the thaw of reality.  Spring is here and the sun is warming my heart and creating a puddle of awareness; each melting drip is a tear of recognition of what was to what is.  I sense that it is important that I recognize those drips, watching each one fall into the puddle of awareness. As I write those words I feel the truth of them.  This is the sentence my heart was looking for.   My puddle will become a pool of beauty as I allow the past to melt into the future.
 

 I feel more prepared today to receive the thawing of my heart and embrace the beauty that is ahead.  The beauty is there.  It has never left.  I just have to keep my eyes open to see it.