All the other things
This week has been awful, to tell the truth. We made a list of all the unwanted and unneeded crises and other annoyances that befell us just in one day the other day and griped and cried and whined at them because they all sucked. 2021 is so far not the gentle lamb we all needed. But then there’s some other things.
A young couple I know is becoming the moms three foster siblings need today, and opening their home to immediately become a family of five. All in one day, with kids of various ages, they are parents. The openness of spirit, generosity of heart, and commitment to tackle difficult emotional realities is a miracle all in itself. Children are so hard, so wonderful, so amazing — and they need so much that we don’t always know how to give. But these women, like others I have known and marveled at before, are willing to take it head on and learn to be the people these three kids will need and learn to trust. And three kids get to stay together, after all they have been through. This is a beautiful thing.
This week, at long last, a woman I know got a much needed and much deserved apology for something that deeply hurt her. It didn’t and couldn’t fix everything. But part of the hurt was the complete loss of trust it caused between her and people who were supposed to be helpers, who were supposed to be doing good. The apology that came was sincere, vulnerable, and empathetic. And it helped, I’m told. This is a beautiful thing, too.
In two weeks, I will get to see my family. The adults have all “qualified” and been vaccinated, and after almost a year and a half, we will get to be in the same space and hug. The kids, taller and more grown up now, will get to climb all over each other with laughter and joy and make too much noise in the house. I feel resentment drifting off of me as that day gets closer, resentment at a disease, bad leadership, refusal of ordinary people to be kind and reasonable. It’s not enough, but it is something. And I won’t ever again ignore the beautiful reality of getting to share physical space with family.
Some of these things are bigger than others, I suppose. But in the midst of lots of mud, lotus flowers are blooming as proof that hope is real. In a couple of yucky weeks, friends have come by with coffee and food, sent flowers and life into our home. Our kids have been as wonderful and terrible as normal, which has actually been a helpful reminder that life goes on even in a crisis. The dogs track in mud, but then they love on you.
So I am trying to pay fuller attention to the other things, the beautiful ones. The grief and frustration and exhaustion and overwhelming weight on our shoulders will shift and fall, eventually. But there is beauty even while it remains, and we have each other.
