Friday 29 September 2017

The Other Shoe

For months I've wondered and prayed, wishing everyday for the fog of uncertainty to be lifted away.  This would be so much more manageable, I think, if only I was more knowledgeable about the longterm.  If the plan were tangible, my emotions would surely be balanceable.  But who am I kidding.  Now that they've said the words out loud - just the possibility that she will be leaving - and the futility of trying to keep a steady heartbeat is laughable.  In all probability, this move is her best imaginable, and so I can hold no hostility, besides there won't be capacity when the she moves out and the grieving moves in.  Just as my heart keeps tripping over itself, my stomach is flipping over itself.  I will spend these unremitting days chipping away absentheartedly at the daily, knowing the other shoe is about to fall squarely on the most vulnerable part of my soul.  Because there is no loophole to this loving business.  When she goes, her being gone is only the tip of the iceberg.  There will be the weight of the grief strapped to my chest where I carried her, the dimness of the room that isn't being lit by her smile, the doorway glaringly empty with no one to bounce the Jolly Jumper.  And instead of it feeling emptier, my home and my heart will feel heavy with her tangible absence.  Now I wonder at my ability to give up comfortable.  How many times is the unimaginable loving and losing a child navigable?