Binoculars

    The events of this weekend scared me a bit more than I thought.

    I spoke to my Pastor and my mom about it. I had a few more questions. I had a few more things I needed to say.

     At one point, I told my mom, "I don't feel grown up enough to do any of this."

     My mom told me that she doesn't think that anyone does.

    

     I have never been an rage and anger, poor me, or my least favorite, "This isn't fair!" type of person.

     Life isn't fair.

     That's it. I could go on and on explaining the percentage of babies tomorrow that will be born into extreme poverty. How many babies will be fortunate enough to be born here, with vaccines, foods so plentiful that nutrition is an afterthought. Is that fair?

     I have tried to never utter that phrase.

     Every time I have to explain something that is happening, every time I see the look on my children's faces, I feel a nasty little bubble growing. It is a bubble filled with anger. It is a bubble filled with fear.

     I have weighed my words before speaking to the girls each time. Just my hesitation to speak makes them more nervous, but I don't feel like I have a choice.

     I cannot flippantly say, Yes, he has had two heart attacks and a failed triple bypass and that is fine. I cannot look at them and give the...la dee da message. I also do not want to make this any more of a dark cloud, a monster, a villain that it already seems like.

     Yes, it is true that everyone believes that their children are the most precious ever, but mine really are. My children are also no complaining. They are not whining about what they cannot have, or what we have not been able to do. My children have not cried out, "It's not fair."

     More than once I have envisioned this bubble with a ribbon attached. I have envisioned letting it go and watching it float away to the peaceful heavens where pain cannot survive.

     For now, I have to keep my clown shoes tucked away. I cannot be the example of raving lunatic for my kids. For now, I must continue to walk a step at a time. I must continue to hesitate before I answer questions.

     I also must remember to find gratitude in each day, in each breath and in each smile.  I must also remember to keep the balance tilted towards whatever positives we can find in each day.

     It is a bit like binoculars. I have to adjust the focus. With a good pair of binoculars, I could spot a dog relieving itself several blocks away. If I adjust my focus, I can see flowers in a garden, a cardinal eating from a bird feeder, or a butterfly fluttering among the bushes.

     I have to keep twirling the focus dial until I get it right.