I woke up about 4:30 this morning to the sound of my “puppy” needing a potty break. And because of that, I wasn’t able to get back to sleep right away. So instead, I fired up my laptop and started playing catch-up with blog-reading. It was at that early hour that I read this excellent post from Mrs. Spit.
Now, Mrs. Spit, I hope you don’t mind me saying … but that post had me desperately trying to hold back the tears. For it’s that silent communication that I’ve been searching for in my life. That feeling of knowing that someone … anyone … close by in proximity would (directly) acknowledge the hurt and that pain that I felt. And someone would realize how hard it was on some days to just get through certain moments, certain snippets in time.
Yesterday, being Halloween, was one of those snippets in time. Particularly made worse by the fact that it’s a very child-centric holiday. For obvious reasons, our yearly ritual of walking around trick-or-treating with our nephew was suspended. Understandably so, as the events of this past two months have put such a huge strain on the current relationship status with his family.
But that’s neither here nor there. And this is not another post about those issues. This is a post of what happens when someone finally made that connection with me. Today. This morning, in fact. And as I write about it now, the tears can’t help but spring back up again. Because this is what I get for trying to hold them back earlier this morning.
Simply said … there is nothing … nothing better than having your fears and your hurt and your pain directly acknowledged. Nothing better than having someone validate that what I’m feeling is real. Nothing better than having someone understand how hard it is to be and to act in my situation.
Nothing better than having someone physically say these things to you. And mean it.
And you know in your heart and your mind that she does. Because, although she will soon join the ranks of motherhood, she’s been there, too.