i wrote this sometime in early january, 2014. i had spent many nights lying in bed with too many thoughts. too many tears stained my pillow cases as i thought of leo lying in bed looking up at his rhino valentine. a momma and baby. a baby belongs with its momma. and i was an ocean away.
i'm not sure these words make any sense to anyone but me. but this is the scattered reality of my brain on adoption depression as i swiped ants off of my forehead and felt the sweat of haiti's nights drip down my chest.
Which way is up?
Which way is down?
Am I on the bottom looking up?
Or am I at the end looking back?
Am I at the beginning still waiting to start?
Am I at the end reflecting on all that has happened?
All are/is true. It's all happening.
It's all starting.
Again.
It's also all ending.
When will the day come?
Will it come fast enough?
Or too quickly?
Will I think that it’s too quiet
On the long and lonely nights?
I repeat in my mind, “let’s go home.”
The gun shots break the silence.
And I think of all the violence.
My heart needs the respite of my home away from this home.
How do I come to explain all that I have seen?
Thinking of bringing them home is just a dream.
Years and obstacles, countless tears.
It’s all such all a
waiting game.
A game.
There should be no such thing.
Tossing and turning, and flipping over in my sleep.
How do I explain everything that I’ve seen?
I’ve seen hunger.
I’ve seen pain.
A labor of love to live through each day.
Smiles that erase all of the strain.
With a love that I’m so thankful to have gained.
Write all these words down and share them with us.
They all say they’ll buy the book; on that I can trust.
Say all you can say.
Don’t mind every look.
Keep your head up today!
And remember to write that book!
I read all the loving the words, as if they’ve been spoken, I’ve felt.
“We are all praying for you.”
“You’re doing the good work.”
“God is using you as his tool.”
Though I feel like a mule.
I heed the warnings and follow the rules.
But how can I start to explain,
How did we make it each and every day?
Crashing, colliding, trying not to drown.
Sorrow flooding me like an ocean.
I feel each wave pulling me down.
How can I try to explain?
For so long now my heart has beaten outside of my chest.
There are no more words for this pain.
And I have given all of my best.
Though I’m close, I am not yet done.
Victories will be mine, but they are not won.
How can I carry the torch beyond?
I’m leaving this island missing one.
My heart begs to stay until I’m done.
There is no bell I have not rung.
The night rushes in like thundering rain,
And my heart can’t take all this pain.
My last night so wished for will come so fast.
How to make our time now last?
Is it the end?
Or just the beginning?
Are we losing?
Or are we winning?
They sleep.
It's quiet.
Their dreams are my comfort.
They wake.
They smile.
I enjoy their artwork.
I'd do it again a hundred or thousand times over.
I'm doing it today.
I'm finishing, but starting over.
Time to sleep, so down my head I lay.
We'll do this again tomorrow.
It will be a new day.
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