Today is a paradox. Today I’m a paradox. Today is full of hope. Today is full of neglect. I have hope that we are turning a corner as a family, that things will get better that the future is brighter. I have a good foundation for this hope, and yet won’t be surprised if it turns out to be false. Yet my response is to neglect the elements of this day that should have my attention, reading to the Boy, tidying the house, setting things in order for the changing tides of the next few days. Instead I am craving words, pretty words, words that express and move and carry me away. I am reading the words fashioned by others, I want to write my own. I am responding to the careless way I have spilled out words this past while, wanting to take them back, to make them pretty, to give them order and poetry that I feel they lack.

Today the Genius Husband rose early and stayed for breakfast; made breakfast for the kids and myself. Today he smiled easily. Today his voice was full of life and hope. I fell in love with him partly because of the strength of his hope, his boundless optimism, his ability to craft words to create ideas and visions, to make others want to participate with him in making those dreams real. I watched him apparently lose all of that over this last year, it slowly drained from his soul like blood taking the life with it and leaving a deathly grayness behind. The past few days I have watched life return, there has been an infusion of hope and I am quietly full of gladness in ways that are beyond expression. Today I have the memory of recent laughter, his and mine mingled in the late evening stillness. Today I want to hold close to me this weightless moment, this pause for air, this freedom from the heavy burden that overshadows so many days. I want to hold it against the days to come, the disappointments and set backs that are part of life, the days when I feel as though we are in a hole and our efforts to get out are only collapsing it around our ears and shoulders.

Today I feel free, as though someone has shoved me blinking out into the sunlight from a dark hole. Today the sunlight feels like a gift. Today I don’t want to think about whether or not this is going to last, I just want to enjoy it. So today I will take it easy, and be thankful for the sunshine, outside, and in our hearts. I will breathe deeply of fresh air, turn my face to the sun, and hope that it will give me strength for whatever is to follow.

all content © Carrien Blue

4 thoughts on “Today

  1. thank you! your hope is infectious and feels me with a deep longing that i can’t quite put into words. hold onto this… don’t let go.

  2. Oh- beautiful words, Carrien. And this is so ME. What? There’s clutter honey? But can I just read a little while longer?

    I remember when your GH told me that he likes to smile really really big, to be as expressive as a child. I pray for this for him again!

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