Emotionally, I am becoming softer.
I, too, am becoming more stoic.
It's been a while since I really, really cried.
I shed a few tears last week, then again at the end of March.
My features are hardening with the passage of time.
My heart is on fire, while my brain is melting.
Again, this ugly (to me) theme of the finality of life is creeping back into my thoughts more than ever. I struggle to comprehend this definitive stake in the ground. People around me seem to have a general acceptance of this reality; several try to rejoice, while few embrace the comfort of a life after death. I am not in any of these circles. I feel like an outsider looking in at times, but mostly standing with my back to the window. I have written this before, but I care to not go back and link to these posts. I noted my refusal to accept 'our' eventual fate. I run from it, both literally and figuratively. My quickening pace temporarily erases these thoughts. Only when I slow down or stop, everything rushes back, flooding my head as if I was beginning to drown.
Tonight, like most nights, I tucked my two angels into bed. My youngest requested that her prayer be said again. I knelt at the side of her bed and leaned over her, resting my elbows alongside her waist. She grabbed my face with her warm hands to cradle my face while I recited her prayer. With her intense eyes, she focused on my lips, watching their every move. An 'Amen' closed our moment, soon after,
sealed with a kiss. I walked away, holding on to her emotion, knowing that one day this will all be over.
Sometime soon, again, these thoughts will blend back into the wallpaper of my soul, but for now, tomorrow, I will run faster.