Today marks the 2-year anniversary of my nephew’s accident
and the beginning of a very, very difficult week.
Last night, as I lay in my bed anticipating the next few
days, the word “tender” just kept circulating through my head. As I fluctuated between letting myself
remember hard, even terrifying things, and fighting off the memories, I
considered my heart and thought, “It is just so tender.” Like a permanent bruise that waxes and
wanes with the calendar. The end
of summer and beginning of fall leave it feeling...well... very tender.
In the past two years I have gone from being completely out
of control over my feelings and emotions to being able to compartmentalize them
pretty well. When any difficult
memory or thought seems ready to wash over me I can tell myself, firmly,
“No. I will not think about this
right now.” And I don’t. But last night I wondered if it was healthy
to always tell myself no. After
all, this experience is a part of my life. So, in a very controlled way, I let myself remember a few
things and I recognized how tender my bruised heart still is. No anxiety attacks. No panic attacks, but an awful deep
ache.
This morning I woke up and read my sister –in-law’s blogpost from last night and noticed she used the same word. “Tender”
I’ve spent the morning considering the many meanings of this
word. Some synonyms seemed right
on while others, at first, seemed somewhat ill-fitting.
Loving
Sensitive
Physically painful
With gentle feeling
Kind and sympathetic
Young and defenseless
Fragile
Needing protection from harsh weather
But when I thought of my heart in terms of Miles’ accident and passing and then these terms, I realized that this experience has made my
heart so much more of each of those things.
*My heart is more loving.
*My heart is more sensitive.
*I’ve always been so surprised at the physical nature that
grief has taken. My heart feels
physical pain.
*And yet with that pain has come a gentle feeling for myself
and others.
*I have found an increase in myself for kindness and
sympathy and I have been the recipient of great acts of kindness and sympathy,
which have restored my soul.
*My heart feels incredibly young and defenseless and
fragile.
*As these anniversaries some around I feel the need for
protection.
And it strikes me that being and feeling “tender” isn’t such a bad thing. And once again I feel grateful. Grateful that such awful sadness has
made me more “tender”.