I turn the key to my mailbox last night and find in it six cards, each different in size and saying, all sent by one person yet still all silent in their screaming. I, in silence, scream as well.
The person I have searched for from the moment I was ripped from the quiet darkness of her womb, her loving breast, her scent and heartbeat – and given to strangers so we could both have a life.
Six cards, all from my Mother.
This is the very first birthday I have lived that was not wrapped up in darkness, a silent, unspeakable pain and longing. I couldn’t tell you, as this is a sorrow that is my own to try and understand.
I learned a valuable lesson these past days in the world that Scott made real – that first, you must find the suffering in a person’s eyes. If you can find that, if you can see… then look for the strength in its shadows.
We all have our sorrows. We all have beauty. Our pain creates an appreciation for joy. Never be afraid to cry for both.
Last week I put words down on paper, a quick moment of thought.
“All I ever wanted to do was make you proud of me.
All I ever wished you could see, was how much
I need to be
These words were directed towards the people that raised me. I left them there, and moved on. Both words and people.
Then, one of the six birthday cards brought it back. Outside of the card is printed – “Three little words that make me proud…” I opened it to find the words that made me dissolve into tears. “That’s MY SON!
She waited forty six years simply to finally be able to wish me a happy birthday. I have waited my entire life to make someone proud of who I am. I was looking in the wrong place.
I should have known… but how could I?
At long last, I have the blessing that I yearned for, and now, finally – am proud of myself.
This brings up a question – are we in such need to be accepted by others that we sacrifice our true Self? Our friends, our classmates, our parents, our peers, our society to lose ourSelves? REACH for the unknown and take it into your heart. Grow.
I dare you.