I love this song. While life giving, it also makes me feel sad. Little M is still in ICU. No news at the moment regarding his progress. His mom posted this song on FB today. I realize how lucky we are in the big scheme of things, yet, this cloak of despair woven from threads of anger, fear, and frustration seems to be the predominant means of keeping me warm these days.
I tried to watch mass online today. Palm Sunday without Palms. Unheard of. At any rate, while our quad sat on the couch, Honey pie seemed very distracted, trying to paint her skin, my hands, etc. with a paintbrush. Up and down. Up and down. Trying to get water. Going to the bathroom. I get it. She is seven. For her, it is like watching a documentary that you have absolutely no interest in. But I want to soak up the fact that we are here as a family. Together, when my other half, for the second week in a row, tells her to go up to her room, since she is not "behaving."
What started as us being together, resulted in us being divided, separated, like we do not have enough of that already. I go to her room. I ask her if she is ok. She wants nothing to do with me. Anger pulses through her. She does not want to go with me back downstairs. She does not want to go for a walk. And so, I am again, alone. I am angry. I am pissed. I don't want to go back and watch mass, only the three of us, with Honeypie alone in her room.
So I drive. I drive throughout Brookfield. I see blue everywhere in support of Little M. I think how good people can be. How kind. Yet, I am sitting in my own excrement of anger and don't know how to release it. Service. I can release it through service. So, to find a service outlet that won't result in my further separation of my family.