My heart was heavy last night.
I got news of a kid I once knew, my little brother’s high school friend--the one that always had a mischievous smile and a quick joke. The news was this: that thirty-year-old kid was on a motorcycle one minute, and brain dead the next. God bless the off-duty nurse who was there to resuscitate his heart back to beating so that he could be transported to the hospital, so that his family could spend one last day with him.
My heart pictures his mom, and it hurts.
Oh, heart, why is it that no one speaks about this side of motherhood? How is it that our minds can be filled with images of sweet little baby toes and perfect nurseries and designer outfits, but that we can miss this very real side of motherhood? The side that hurts. The side that would give anything for one more day. The side that feels the weight of another’s life on one's own soul, but knows it lacks the strength to carry it. This, heart, is what you have been given wrapped up in your precious little bundle. Yes, there are many joys and laughter, but do not be a fool. There will also be events that will make you want to split in two and spill out all of the hurt that has bundled up inside. Dear heart, be wise. Be thankful. Do not be foolish and believe that right and wrong will always be so clear, or that the good you have now will be good forever. Treasure this moment, heart. Drink in deeply of healthy little ones who are kept safe under the same roof as your own. Treasure the requests for extra lovin’s, be thankful for the midnight wake-ups, rejoice in the little squabbles. These are gifts to you. Do not ignore them or think them light. They are preparing you for the weight of what the future might bring. Be wise, dear heart. Love today.
So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.