My blog, although mostly about my weight loss journey, is about me. I haven’t blogged in a while and too many things were bubbling. This blog entry has nothing to do with my weight loss journey – or anyone’s for that matter. But it does have everything to do with what’s been on my mind and in my heart. This is my *place* for my words. We all need one. /marci
It’s Rosh Hashanah and I should be in shul, but I’m not. And I broke down crying in the middle of my prayer lighting the holiday candles. I broke down because I’m mad at you. I shouldn’t be. I know it. I know you don’t cause illness or pain. I know you listen and hear and know what’s in my heart. So I know you know I’m mad at you. I talk to you daily. I pray and praise. And I do love you. In fact you taught me that I can be mad and love you at the same time. And you taught me to be honest – so there it is. I’m angry.
She’s in so much pain, God. You know this. You’re watching her. You’re hearing prayers with her name, I know you are. And maybe she’s not worse BECAUSE you’re listening and hearing and watching and caring. Or maybe she’s not because you’re busy elsewhere or mad at me because you’re not seeing or hearing enough from me. Maybe you’re disappointed in me. I get that. I get that because I’m also disappointed.
I know any given day you have millions of moms talk to you about their kids. We’re all praying because our kids….well, they’re our hearts. We’d pretty much do anything for them. We’d take their pain if we could. You did that – somehow. You gave moms this connection. It’s not biological because we don’t have to carry our babies to feel this love….this consuming connection.
I’m scared God. You know that, too, I’m sure. I’m scared for her because we don’t know what this is. So there’s fear of what we don’t know. Then looking at all the possibilities, there’s fear of the treatment. There’s fear because this strong girl you and I created (yeah, I’m taking some credit there) doesn’t know how strong she is. She knows how stubborn she is and how frustrated she is and how anxious she is – but she doesn’t know her own strength. I’d have preferred she learn that without so much agony, thank you very much. And I’m scared for me because I’m not coping with this as well as I normally cope with things. Lack of sleep, anxiety, lack of focus, lack of staying nourished in all aspects of nourishment – body, mind, soul. I say I’m doing my best, but actually, I’m not. I’m hardly doing at all – just surviving hour by hour, day by day.
You know, God….I wasn’t angry with you when my mom got sick and then died. I wasn’t angry at all. I was just really getting to know you after she died and simply was in awe. But now….well, I just can’t help it. I’m downright upset. What did I do? What didn’t I do?
Just because I’m mad at you, doesn’t mean I am not grateful. The myriad of test results of what she doesn’t have – thank you! Her ability to articulate what she’s going through – thank you! I remember when she was a baby and couldn’t and we just were at wits end. The love my kids have for each other – thank you! The care she’s being shown by so many – thank you! And for Neil, God. Really there are no words for how much I thank you for him. He keeps giving me the love, the support and the perspective of “Of course He’s listening. She’s still here, isn’t she?” So thank you a gazillion times for Neil.
Last night she apologizes for ruining Rosh Hashanah. And I told her that she didn’t have the power of ruining Rosh Hashanah. It’s not a meal. It’s not brisket and chicken soup. It’s the promise of a new year ahead and if anything, she reminded me of what it really means. So I sit here reflecting on this new year ahead, I ask you to show me what I can do and then help me do them. Praying for a sweet year ahead with answers and healing and growth.
So please take these burdens I wrote and those others I feel and couldn’t articulate. I’m giving them to you because I just can’t figure out what to do with all of it. Forgive me for being angry and thank you for allowing it.
Good talk, God. Next time maybe fewer tears?
With all the love and praise and the myriad of feelings that I have….your Marci