The only thing I know is that there are things that will happen to you in this life that are too big to fit inside you.
My hope is that all that I will have of that has already been given to me.
The idea of suffering to those I love is what does not fit inside me.
The memory of holding my nephew upside down while he screamed in pain because my sister and I were saving his life. Those images, those sounds, cant fit inside.
O my soul.
The thought of my sister upside down and alone for almost an hour. Was she terrified? Was she in pain? That can't fit inside.
O my soul.
The thought of my dad suffering for hours and hours, alone. The suffering he must have endured. The thought that he was so set on his path that he would not reach for help. It does not fit inside.
O my soul.
The images I saw when I did what had to be done to that room so that my mom would not. I couldn't do anything else for her. So I cleaned the room, the mess, the evidence of life leaving this earth.
That can't fit inside.
O my soul.
And since it can't fit inside, it can't be processed, it can't be understood. So sometimes, it breaks in and cracks me open again, always surprising me.
Tonight just as I was thinking of him my dad called, to reassure me he is okay. To tell me he loved me again. To make sure I believed that he loved me. To reassure me he was here and staying with me.
O my soul. O my soul.
For anything in this world would I trade these memories to be taken from me, to be taken from them.
I miss my sister every day. I think of her every day. The lesson I never thought I would learn is how to be thankful for a miracle, for a extension of life, when that life was no longer going to love you, and that miracle would hate you The hole in my life, 4 months later, is still felt like a phantom limb. My sisters, are after all, extensions of me and I of them. I am constantly aware of her absence.
I hang up with my dad, and my IPOD plays a song that I haven't heard for a year. Well, for 350 some odd days. After I talk to God for a quick thanks for letting me hear his voice a year later, I hear what is playing.
O my soul.
My sisters and I were piled in my car friday, october 17th when I heard it for the first time, at 8: 42a.m. We were in the parking lot and I was about to do the hardest thing I would ever have to do. My sisters, sobbing beside me, steeled me. Gave me strength as a protector. Always they were the strong ones. It was time for me to stand in between them and danger. I would protect. I would sheild. I would take it into me, force it to fit inside me so that they would not need to.
I said I will do it. And, with the words of this song I did.
A year later, the lyrics still ring true with me "when my hope takes flight".
It left a year ago. it came back briefly and then left again with the one that brought it.
I dont know how to navigate through life, I dont know why we think tan is better than pale when we know about skin cancer, I dont know why some people are naturally skinny or have straight hair. I dont know how my nieces and nephews will ever be able to comprehend how very much they are loved and adored, and how perfect they are. And I dont know if there is a whale for me at all or if I will ever be smart enough to find him.
The only thing I know is that there are things that happen that are too big to fit inside you. And you have to bear down to the ground and hold steady, keep your footing. And when you need to cry out, cry out.
O my soul.
This, and only this, I know is true.
