It Is Time

12.16.18 blog entry It Is Time

It tries to escape my eyes in the form of tears. It tries to escape my mouth as a scream. It tries to escape my body as blood. But I have yet to release this demon.

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For years, I could not. I had no choice. Now, in this battered, bruised, broken shell, I need to sob. I need to wail. I need to help this cracked patchwork body heal. It is time to finally grieve for what was done to my son.

Yes, we are here now. He is doing well. Feeling well. He actively works to maintain a healthy mental and physical state; whereas, I suffer because for so long I had to be brave in front of him. He is a remarkable young man now and an excellent photographer. And I need to let fly – my fists pounding pillows and my throat screaming at the bottom pools.

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It is time to process. To feel. And I’m scared to death.

Prayer for UK & Love

So…I was gonna write about feeling somewhat down.

Then, I saw and read of the tragedy in Manchester, and instead I hugged my son and prayed. Prayers for victims, family of victims and lost members being searched for, prayers for the singing artist, prayers for first responders and medical staff, prayers for Manchester, UK.

Gonna mention some blessings in my life for which I’m thankful. A husband who is a chaplain for a hospice, a son who makes me laugh, a mom who can make me giggle, an orange tabby who loves snuggling & playing fetch, the trees outside, three cardinal families this year, unexpected cards in the mail from friends, and books.

Again, just thank you, Lord, and please be with Manchester, and help our world know more love, more You.