I miss my kids.
I miss my youngest when I leave home in the morning. She is only 8 months old and is adorable. She has one tooth starting to come through. I love her smile. I love coming home to her at the end of the day.
I miss my 4 year old when I drop him off at daycare. He loves it there, he is such a social being. He has a large group of ‘best friends’, and the educators love him there too, but I miss him nonetheless. He is so sweet and energetic and curious and persistent. I hope that I can help him keep those traits as he grows, even though they can be frustrating. I love picking him up at the end of the day.
I miss my eldest son. He is on the brink of being a teenager, always growing and developing. He loves to play computer games and sport (the outdoor type), he is caring and thoughtful, and outrageously funny. He is on the brink of becoming a man. I haven’t seen him since January 19 of this year.
I miss my first born. A delightfully funny and gifted 14 year old. She inspires me with her ability to try something new even if it is scary, to take on challenging life situations whilst maintaining a positive attitude. She messages me at night when she has trouble sleeping and regularly makes me laugh with her quirky sense of humour. I haven’t seen her since January 19 of this year.
I’m really thankful that I get to see two of my children every day. I’m really thankful that I get to communicate with my older children regularly and that they seem to be growing up into amazing humans. I have much to be thankful for, but I miss my kids.
But Happy Father’s Day!
What if every very little thing is not going to be alright?
What if Bob was just trying to make us feel better but instead steered us away from the truth? The truth about life, especially as we experience it in 2020, is that life is difficult. There are challenges and there is suffering. In a culture that likes to be the masters of our own destiny it can be hard to comprehend that every little thing may not be alright. It’s hard to look that in the face.
We can see clearly that everything little thing is not going to be alright for the hundreds of thousands of people who have died from coronavirus. It is not going to be alright for those who weren’t able to say goodbye to loved ones due to travel restrictions as they passed away in hospital. It’s not going to be alright for those who are separated from family members due to hard borders being in place – parents missing out on seeing their kids grow and develop during one of the most challenging times in recent history. You can never get those times back. Saying ‘don’t worry about it’ to those people doesn’t seem to help and nor should it.
So what do we do? Do we just get sucked into the void of depression because ‘life sucks’, things are not always good and not everybody is nice? How do we continue to function? How can we keep putting one foot in front of another and finding the joy in life?
There is great power in naming something. When we can honestly name a situation or experience as tough, overpowering, challenging and just plain sh*t, there is an internal shift. It allows us room to experience the painful emotions, to sit with them and notice them for what they are – emotions that will pass. It’s not blame, it’s not loaded with outrage, it is just a time to express sadness and recognise that not everything is okay. When we can do that, it provides an emotional depth that creates a foundation of greater emotional joy.
Sometimes, everything isn’t going to be alright. But during those times, we don’t need to run from it or pretend it’s not happening, we can sit in it and even find joy in its midst.