After the Rain

To the broken and the whole, the seekers and the sought, the wanderers and the rooted

We are always permitted the grace of falling apart.

I don’t know if anytime I have, I chose it. It really tends to interfere with life, as it was, disruption and beauty, coexisting…

But, it is in these moments I become the closest to the universal life force.

Now, I am not saying it is a requirement to meet God in desperation. Some of us know how extraordinary life is and how good it can be ……..from the moment we are conceived and than…..move on to being supported thoroughly, while all the truths are affirmed, perfectly, with very little error…..maybe?

I haven’t actually heard that story yet.

My son was born knowing God and I believe all babies do. As a small child, I witnessed it in his curiosity, his gentle nature, his unconditional love, his compassion, his sensitivity, his respect, his creativity, his zest for each new day, his ability to see, hear, feel what others did not. And while I don’t know everything ahead on his path, I do hope what he knows remains awake in him as his life unfolds.

Me…

So far, I have succumbed at 3 distinct times……knowing that I too share similar qualities I saw in my beautiful child, definitely tossed around by life along the way.

My first time was when the weight of a stressful and complicated childhood, became impossible to ignore. As a teenager, I was relocated to Staten Island and moved in with my Polish Italian parents, embarking on a completely different experience with family. I happened to move onto the same block my biological mother spent a portion of her childhood only to discover my new relatives had known some of my biological family. What are the odds?

In this home I was shown the value of extended family presence, a Nonna and Grandma at the kitchen table, homemade pizza, pierogies, babka, real butter, cousins, a celebration for everything, first jobs, how to drive a car in one of the sketchiest gray vans around and first hand, day in, day out experiences with loving , having fun with, and caring for babies. I became the much older and very big sister to 3 lovely children, the exceptionally cool older cousin to some of my now favorite new mamas. I was welcomed and included. I never felt like I didn’t belong and seemed to be a part of it all along. Of course, they had their struggles, but somehow the message that you stick together and help each other out was a bigger takeaway. When I aged out and my time ended in the foster care system, they kept me. And continue to claim me as theirs, over and over and over again. All the while letting me go.

The second time was at the end of my 20s, my sabbatical in sin city was paused …I entered a desert parched. A very fine sampling of hard core partying, over for a time. Totally dehydrated with enough funny and dramatic stories to think I had lived in a blockbuster hit…..or 100….somewhere deep inside, knowing, there had to be more than this.

Turns out, I was right and ushered forward. Gifted with the experience of becoming a wife, mother, long time hospice worker and valued community member. Full of so many moments to melt away any armor I had previously built up and turn me into a giant ball of mush. A period of serious sensitization. Rediscovering childhood, learning very quiet lessons about the sacredness of life through death, not without its challenges, filled with a ton of joy…..

But it was this 3rd time, midlife, puberty and 2022 that really took me out. It was marked by significant changes and realizations that triggered new levels of healing required if I was going to keep showing up for my life. Authenticity was the buzzword and integrity the demand. I witnessed so much of what I held dearly, become unrecognizable.

My very sensitive soul was deeply offended and so attached, laid itself on the tracks, to be run over by a freight train of uncertainty, repeatedly. Compelled to keep going, learn, make mistakes, grow, evolve and change. All the while remaining the same girl I have ALWAYS been.

Maximum capacity moments. That’s what I call them, bullied into submission or left out in a torrential downpour. It can feel like wandering around a black hole or trying to see through heavy rain while the windshield wipers don’t do shit to help…comparable only to grieving…..

I am committed to Love, therefore, awakened moments come. A conscious awareness that I am forced, compelled, ushered, and than gently guided to feel my way towards a light and clearing…full of truth. It always appears to me in the form of a very beautiful, firm but gentle, God. It is those moments of remembering, God IS indeed, all around…..waiting for me to notice and ask, how?

With faith and sincere trust that I will continue to be shown as well as seek, knowing I always have, I pause, look and hear the answers as they come….in all their forms. Reclaiming the power born with me, in sync and in tune, dancing my way to next, sharing what love pours out of me.

Thank you, my son, for shining bright enough for me to see you, believe you, hear you, feel you, know you and love you.