tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669232949254960562.post6754575197960305834..comments2023-04-17T07:56:57.717-04:00Comments on Naptime Confessional: FairMary Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12212750107782259674noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669232949254960562.post-14889379661785935492010-05-03T21:26:07.451-04:002010-05-03T21:26:07.451-04:00I was thinking about you in yoga today, not becaus...I was thinking about you in yoga today, not because of your decidedly un-yogic experience, but because my mind was drifting in a not so mindful kind of way and you crossed into it. I was pushing my way through a pose, sweat pouring into my eyes, lungs burning, hamstrings so tight, and we were about halfway through the class. I was thinking about running the upcoming half marathon, a race for which I am very much not in shape. So much not in shape I wonder if I'm going to injure myself doing it. My knees have been screaming lately-and then I think..."not do it? not get the glory? not get to stuff my face with pancakes and feel that post race glow?". and it felt like the bottom would fall out if I didn't get to finish it and see it to the end-and I sort of keyed into the marathon analogy you made-all that damn hard work, and for what? To be punished? To be forced to make sense of trauma? C'mon?!?!?!?This is so cosmically wrong. I want to wake up and have a different ending for you-want to bring baby gifts and be jealous of your expanding family. I am really pissed off because it really isn't fair. It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair. Because you are such a great family. It's sort of plain mean Karma. I don't get it. I wish I did. I wish you didn't have to explain it and could dump the pain somewhere and just roll back a few months and have a different ending. MB, I really am so sad for you and all the damn emptiness that goes with it. I don't know-I have never experienced grief like that. But, it's that whole thing, like from the Bear Hunt story book, "We can't go over it, we can't go under it, oh no, we've got to go through it". I wish you didn't have to go through this. I just wish that on spring mornings, the sun or the rain like this morning, wasn't that a blessed shower, so sweet smelling, that for just an instant you have reprieve, solitude, a clear mind, before it all comes racing back. I wish this for you so much. And that little boy of yours sure is darling. Your own personal superhero. Sending you hugs and love and any available strength I have-peace, and my dear, you really are gorgeous.Heather Lnoreply@blogger.com