Busted Lip...Clumsy Girl

The past 24 hours have deemed those of the priceless moments of parenthood. As the weather has been very accepting of increased activity outdoors, my children and I went for a walk last night after work. The atmosphere was light and the smiles precious. Chloe was singing as I took in the serenity of the experience. Happiness, I was feeling pure contentment as we covered the pavement.

As we were half way, my sweet daughter was skipping along. She had her hands in her pocket and without warning I heard the smack of her meeting the sidewalk. Instant cries for Momma, I knelt down to pick her up. The crimson stream alerted me; I looked for chipped teeth and the severity of the gash. She calmed down and within a minute we were able to move forward.

A full assessment was completed after we reached the house. It appeared to need evaluation from a doctor. Instantly her lip was blue and the laceration ugly. While patiently awaiting for the doctor she would tell me, “Momma, can the doctor fix me?” I couldn’t help but chuckle. She instantly scolded me, “This is not funny!” I explained, “Chloe, you are right. Momma just hopes that the doctor can fix your clumsy feet so that this doesn’t happen again.” Again the pure innocence of my child peeked through as she responded, “Umm Momma, my lip is broken…not my feet.” Wrapping her up in a hug I knew this was only the first of many trips to come for her appreciation of life and free spirit would land us there in the future.

The night settled in and morning came. I had this great sense of lethargy weighing my stupor. Preparation for my upcoming list of deadlines had me wondering what I could do to remove some of the heaviness. I gave up on trying to displace items and just dove in head first for accomplishment will leave my heart with a greater sense of pride then tip toeing around the obligations.

The house is currently quiet. My darlings all in bed and here I am left to ponder what to do with my time. I still struggle at times with the question of being alone and it is at times like this where the warmth of his body next to me on the couch would ease the solitude. One thing I miss the most is the sensation that flowed through my veins as he use to trail his finger slowly from my temple, venturing along my ear, and down along my jaw line. Relaxed I became as the release of life would lift from my heart. Regardless of the abuse, the darkness…my husband also expressed soft affection at times which would encase my soul. At this very moment, I am missing that valued companionship.

Fidelity, one of my defining positions of my marriage and devotion to my husband leads my continued loyalty as I wish him the best as well. Never, ever could I wish a negative existence for his experience. It doesn’t matter what he put me through, no human being should live in such internal gloom or personal anguish without embracing the true meaning of vitality if tools are sought to aid in healing. I pray that he too finds the strength he needs to seek recovery to lead a healthy life for himself. Being an abuser was not, in my opinion, his quest in life, but suffers from a disease that intercepts the normal filter of interpretation that a non-abuser has. May the simple pleasures of life bring sunshine to his soul and in time raise him above with the achievement of any personal goals he may set.

This busy week faces me…Strength of success I seek

~Nina~