Deliciousful sun syrup, gently warms my softish caramel-colored cheeks. Willing my eyes to remain closed, I inhale and hold the freshness of this new day inside me. I drink deeply of the newness. I am safely tucked in the folds of my covers, my safe place. All is well and I am savoring these moments.
Slowly my mind wakes. Like a butterfly emerging from it's cocoon, I am orienting to this day in a slow manner, squeezing each thought fully awake. A sudden awareness breaks in, like a tsunami that has pulled back and then destroyed everything in its path, I realize what day it is. The peace that I was savoring has simply vanished! There will be no retrieval of what moments ago was a beautiful day.
Mother's Day! UGH!!!! Why does Hallmark have to ruin this otherwise wonderful day? Pulling the candy apple red fleece blanket up over my head, I wrestle with myself. It is an ugly battle that gets more intense with every passing moment. It is a battle that I am not a stranger to. I lay here realizing that all holidays seem to bring this destructive, crushing feeling that is overwhelming and causes me to want to runaway. I whisper this declaration, "I am not participating!"
An hour has slipped by, I lay stone still fighting the tears. Whisper yelling at God, I rasp out, "WHY am I like this? WHY do all holidays make me crazy like this? WHY does everything in me want to runaway?" Thirty more minutes tick by. I can feel my body starting to relax. The Mr. quietly tiptoes into the room. I feel an odd comfort that he knows the struggle of these types days for me. Perching on the side of the bed, he quietly asks, "What shall we do today?" How could I not pull the covers off my face and answer the man who has tolerated, loved, and given himself for me? Tentatively, I squeak out, "Starbucks and flowers for the window boxes?" A silly grin creeps across his face, and he turns to leave, giving me the space and time I need to gather myself together. For him, I will not run. For him, I will mentally try to reframe the day.
Three hours, and a couple of trenta iced teas later, the Mr. and I are planting flowers. It is in this moment I realize why these societally imposed holidays are so difficult for me. It is simple. I feel they are fake. EVERYTHING inside of me does not do well with "fake". I live with such a deep zest and love for life; my family; and my friends that I detest the fakeness of all the hullabaloo! It seems so inauthentic to my heart.
As the day continues, I hear the Lover of My Heart whispering, "I made you this way. Your heart is for authenticity. Your heart is for real. Embrace this piece of you. Hallmark is a vehicle for others to get to real and authentic." Then he posed the question that stopped me, "Isn't one time a year celebrating these type of things, better than none?" UGH!!! I feel the truth of His words split my plank-eyed heart wide open. "Yes, both are good," I whisper.
Tonight as I slip in between the sheets of my safe place, my heart is thankful for the gift of understanding. May you discover the understanding that your heart craves for the things that make you want to run away.
Until we Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl
*Just for the record, these feeling have nothing to do with the mother that are in my life or my own daughter. These women are all incredible and they are very gracious and understanding with me on these days.
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