Not walking on sunshine...

The way the clouds and trees silhouette against the early evening sky outside my window makes my heart ache tonight. Is it the diminishing of the light as it fades from golden to violet that makes me recall loss and sadness?

I don’t know for sure, but the feeling I have at these moments rivals all the nostalgic longings I feel when that first scent of autumn causes me remember the passage of time.

Today I sorted through things I have stored for scrapbook pages. Today I read little snippets of writings recalling moments with my beloved granddaughters. Today I paged through calendars of my sisters watching her writing disintegrate into a barely decipherable scrawl. Today I thought of broken dreams and shattered hopes. Today I tried very hard to turn my eyes to the sun but I could only remember rainy days.

I think it is these moments of sadness that remind me how important it is to feel joy, to seek happiness, to dig deep for laughter even when it is difficult.
Sometimes I think it would be so easy to drag out all the disappointment, all the failings, all the pain and cruelty and just stay hidden away in the safe cave of my bed. It would perhaps be simpler to not step out again each day into the sunlight, exposed and unprotected from the reality that is the definition of life.

I wonder if there is a way to grow a protective shield for your heart so that it becomes less vulnerable to pain and loss. Are there exercises to strengthen that tender muscle? Or are those of us that are tenderhearted sentenced to a lifetime of extremes?

Tonight I would trade this tender heart in a moment, but I’m sure that tomorrow I will relish all the emotions and feelings that define my life. Good and bad. Joyous and sorrowful. Past and present.

I had the thought this past week that one of my biggest failings as a parent was not preparing my children for the reality of life. Perhaps in trying to always find the silver lining I left them unprotected and unable to understand a world that is often cruel and always unpredictable. I failed to teach them that just because you want things to be better doesn’t mean they will be better. Sometimes will cannot change fact. Sometimes determination cannot change duration. Sometimes positive cannot change pain.

The sky has gotten darker and the silhouettes are now indistinct. My rambling has not eased my heart.

So for this night I am going to bed and I am going to allow myself to be sad.

Tomorrow I will be stronger and more able to recognize that all those little sayings about dancing in the rain and making lemonade are all true.

Tomorrow is another day.

And this, too, shall pass.