Mama I see and feel the angst and pain that led you here. Mama I see and feel the love that keeps you close and near.
Mama I see and feel the sadness that takes up so much space. Mama I see and feel the fear that you hide from your beautiful face.
Mama I know it feels so hard, as you stretch yourself so thin.
Mama I see you, up at night, as you try and make sense of all that has come to be.
Mama I know its hard to hold space for the big feelings spilling onto you.
Mama I know it feels a lot, as you try to be the all, amongst others needs, sought and true.
Mama know that this is for you, so that you feel seen and heard and held.
Mama your not alone in this, it’s a neighborhood, a nation, and world.
Mama I can see your sorrow, and I can also see your strength.
Mama you will get through this, with a smile on your little ones face.
Its been a while since I turned to my blogging platform, for a space to reflect and share. But, I find myself here once again, navigating this crazy world.
Something has been pulling at me to put my heart into words. Not just a blog piece that shares and connects with, what I know to be, the space of so many mamas and dadas as we are thrust into a place of unknown…But also, a piece of healing, for me.
I have felt the impact of uncertainty of the everyday.
And I have felt the impact of the worry, and unpredictability.
I have felt the increased load of what we now call our normal. The working, the schooling, the juggling, and the carrying of ALL the feels from our little ones who are no doubt so very confused.
But what I have felt, within the deepest of deeps is sadness with a heavy side of grief.
For us, the lead up and preparation for the year of 2020 felt big, exciting and scary. We were preparing two of our little ones to take their first big step into the world. Pre School and Kinder. There was anxiety, there was uncertainty, and hesitation to leave the safety of our nest. They knew the significance of what this meant for them, and for us, as we navigated our way to what would be a new normal.
And proud of them we are. They used the safety of our hearts to move through some really big feelings. For our little Kinder Kid, starting school was hard for her, and overwhelming thought and feeling. But she journeyed to a place where she was beginning to experience a new sense of belonging, within her friendships and in the care of her nurturing teachers. She loves to learn, and she was really finding her feet. And our little preschooler was evolving through cautiousness to a place of security and love for new found friendships and connections.
And now we sit here, unsure of when, they will return.
We sit here with sadness and a sense of loss, almost like they, and we have been robbed of many wonderful firsts. No Easter hat parade, no assembly, no sports carnival, no birthday parties. For how long, we just don’t know.
For the mamas who are missing out on the many wonderful firsts a new kinder year can bring.
For the mamas who are missing out on the lasts that the end of a school journey can bring.
For the mamas who have bought a new baby into this world, and are yearning for the one on one time they hoped and willed to have.
For the fathers who are holding financial stress and struggling with feelings bought up by the burden of providing during such a time of uncertainty.
For the mamas who are experiencing loss after loss, as they find out all the ways in which there birth journey is going to shift and change.
For the grandparents who have been thrust into a place of loneliness. For the grandchildren whose hearts ache to be held by them once again.
For the parents who hold a sense of self in the work that they do, who are now left with an uncertain sense of just where they should be.
For the adolescents who are being robbed of such a crucial stage in their life. A stage where the desire for autonomy and independence is burning deep within.
For the children, oh the children who just cant make sense of this new world. But are feeling the stress and strain as they too navigate it all.
For all the parents new and veteran who are feeling so very alone. As they are pulled away from their support systems, their village and sometimes their homes.
Holding space. Holding sadness. Holding worry. Holding disappointment. Holding confusion. Holding Hope. For you, for your children, for your family.
My hope for you is to hold on tight, to who you need to be. Hold space for your own way to feel, to experience and just to be. Strength to step back from the pull to ‘be it all’ and more. And compassion with a side of kindness to self when ‘your all’ doesn’t feel quite good enough. Because remember mama, you hold a power, and that power is you. You bring a comfort, a depth of love, so great, and that comes from being effortlessly you.
So to you Mama, I see you. Amidst all you are bearing to hold.
The mixture of gratitude and grief, as we find our way through this.