Shadows and Light

“Most of the things we need to be most fully alive never come in busyness. They grow in rest.” ~ Mark Buchanan

I woke this morning feeling a shadow hovering over me. I tried to ignore it as I rejoiced in the first cold snap of the season, and was glad it was Saturday so neither one of us had to rush out the door.

But the shadow did not retreat, in fact it darkened and suddenly while sipping coffee flipping tears began to fill my eyes. What was going on? Do I push this aside and keep on moving? Do I stay busy to keep these feelings at bay?

I moved to the other room, sat down and closed my eyes. It had been a very busy week at work. Was this the fatigue of juggling all the balls? I don’t think so.

Yesterday I was invited by my daughter to come down and join her roommate Rachel, and her mother for dinner. We met last spring when our daughters decided to room together freshman year.

14632878_10154069210371247_585715627819092598_n

It was fun to go hang out in their dorm room, listening to the latest gossip about their suite mates, and spending some time talking to my daughter alone after dinner as I dropped her off. As I hugged her goodbye and whispered I love you,  both of us had tears in our eyes.

But the feeling was covered in busyness to be dealt with later. My mind may have tried to bury these feelings, but my soul would not be denied.  The fear of admitting this transition is harder than I thought keeps me running from the truth. And the habit of keeping my mind engaged on anything else but my feelings is unhealthy.

I’ve already learned the lesson of letting go when my oldest traveled out of state to attend college in Ohio. The pain of the first fledgling to leave the nest was a punch in the gut. This separation is less dramatic, she is only 40 minutes away, but the pain is more subtle, a bruise you’ve forgotten about until you press the flesh around it.

I miss my daughter.

So I will sit with this feeling today. I won’t ignore it, or cover it in busyness. I miss her, but I grateful that she misses me, too.

©annettealaine2016

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s