The night it happened, I called my mom. I told her what happened and I sobbed. I sobbed and she listened and instead of telling me that I would be all right, she told me how sorry she was and that I should keep on crying. Keep on crying, she said, until you’re ready not to cry anymore. So I did. I didn’t need to be told that everything was going to be all right. Metaphorical heartbreak only feels fatal. But I did need to be told that feeling as broken and empty and helpless as I did was ok. And she told me that it was, and I believed her.
I love this time of year, not just for the carols and decking of halls, but because it is a time of year when we recognize and embrace the darkness. The days are shorter, the nights longer and we light candles to remind ourselves that the light, physically, mentally and spiritually, is just around the corner. Darkness is ok. It is ok sometimes to be broken and empty and helpless because it will never last forever.
This morning I woke up feeling more like myself than I have in a long time. I feel fuller and a little bit pieced back together. I ran into one of my surrogate Austin mom’s and she said I seem to have my spark back and I feel it. A little bit. It feels good.
I am glad for the people who remind that even warriors can cry, but it feels good to see that the light is just around the corner. I’m ready to be back to myself again.