The Awe of Tears

(photo courtesy of No Worries Farm January 2008)

The Awe of Tears

Right now, I’m allowing mine to gently pool and spill.
My tears do not reflect a particular sadness or joy. Instead, they are surfacing likely because of many sadnesses and joys.

What’s undoubtedly surfacing right now though, is knowing that 9 years ago tomorrow, Aria was diagnosed with cancer. Everything changed that day. I wonder if you can fathom that. Everything.

Known routines. Shifted.
Hopes and dreams. Gone.
Prayer. Redefined.
Food. Altered.
Spiritual practice. A necessity.
Relationships. Lost and gained.
Money. Bled.
Faith. Abandoned.
God. Real-Eyes’d (thank you Jeff Brown)
Trust. Affirmed.
Surrender. Fully experienced.
Death. A constant companion.

9 years ago tomorrow, the landscape that was my life, dribbled like watered down paint weeping on a canvas. Puddle’d muddy brown mixed with many tears, it would be years before I began to make a life with color again.

3 years I held her away from me over the drooling mouth of death.
3 years Death’s incessant presence reminded me that it dictated everything; how I breathed, how I slept, how I loved.
3 years I watched children ripped from the arms of their parents.
3 years I watched parents fall into death with their children.
3 years I watched parents reach an accord with death—a mysterious partnership that I never wanted to know.

Aria is 13 years old now. She is brilliant, athletic,  wise and alive.
I no longer hope. I don’t need to.
I dream bigger than ever.
Prayer is the way I walk.
Food is a quirky addiction.
My spiritual practice has deepened and improved every facet of my being.
My relationships are priceless. I love deeper and better.
Money is measured in all sorts of abundance.
Faith is mercifully gone!
Goddess knows Her place.
Trust is how I breathe.
Surrender is in my smile.
Death remains a constant companion.

9 years ago everything changed. I cry over what was lost. I cry over what was gained.
I purify myself through the awe of tears.