When You Don't See It Coming

What no one tells you is that you will miss whole days. The grief that you fight so hard with the newness begins to define your every thought and action. Things that you know are illogical become logical and real logic becomes unrecognizable. All energy goes into what it absolutely has to and the joy that you feel for the simple things becomes a thing of the past. Will it ever come back?

I have begun to call it the nightmare that I cannot wake up from. It seems appropriate and yet I cannot stay asleep even through my exhaustion. The feeling of tired takes control of my emotions as I try even harder to make those around me feel secure and think that everything is going to be okay despite the fact that I have no confidence that it will. I try to utter the words "thy will be done" and before they are completely out, I am internally screaming "but I want MY way! MY timing!" My faith is strong. It has to be. One cannot be this angry at someone that they don't believe in. Even as I type this, I am not angry at Him. I am not really angry at anyone in the moment. Anger takes on too much intensity and there is no energy for that.

My baby. My first born. One of my best friends. The mother of my grandchildren. Sister. Cousin. Niece. Grandchild. Gifted singer and photographer. Christian. Accomplished. Beautiful. Creative. So many words to define her and yet the only one that any of us get to encounter these days is a codependent addiction. I have never cried so many tears. With 6 kids this is not my first bout with fear, real fear, but it is by far the worst because inside of it, I am powerless.

Tough love is something that absolutely has its place and time...but not inside of me. I have never responded to the style nor been able to emulate it well. In the moments of parenting, I have been able to pull it off when absolutely necessary. During these moments I should have won actress of the year. All energy is required as I pull out the "have to's" over the "want to's". Always, I want to wrap my arms around the person hurting, because that truly is what most acting out is. I want to take their pain away and let them know that it is going to be alright. Put a bubble around them and shield them from the consequences of their own decisions and actions. I want to send words of encouragement every night for them to lay their head down to. I want to give them the tools that they have forgotten to use as a reminder that there is a better way. Most of all I just want to remind them how much I love them. And I cannot do any of that this time. My heart is broken.

The clock ticks and I accomplish the bare minimum, no matter how strong my resolve as I wake up each morning praying for a better day. I see the hurt in my grandchildren's eyes and hold them as they cry, knowing it is not my arms that they long for. My son and daughter try to shield me through their own pain, all of us reaching out and checking on each other after every episode and lying to each other out of love. My husband has no idea how to help through his own hurt. While his instinct says he needs to take over out of protection, his heart knows that is not what is really needed.

The moments that she lashes out in anger, spewing words that are not of her at all, those are the moments that are easiest to take. They are not my daughter. It is easier to be mad at anyone who is not my daughter. It is the rare glimpse of her real heart that breaks mine. A look of pain through the anger tells me that she is still inside this person that I don't recognize. A token of a gift from money she doesn't have for her children is priceless.