The darkness lingered nearby for so long that I wondered if maybe it had become a part of me, that perhaps I felt some comfort in holding onto it, keeping me safe from hope.
Yeah, I was smack dab in the middle of a good old fashion pity party filled with the kind of hate and anger that can destroy who you are as a person, who you are inside.
Just before dawn, tears began to roll down my cheeks, even as the gentle breeze caressed my face to bring me comfort. I watched the horizon, waiting for the light; the light that I prayed would soothe the aching inside of me.
It was then I understood what was going on.
I had forgotten…
I had forgotten that while I was dwelling on the pain of being sick and tired, there were children that would not be feeling the warmth of the sun shining on their face today.
I was so busy complaining about the high prices of food, what a pain it was to shop, and how much I really hate cooking, I had forgotten those who feel hunger every single day.
Caught up in the anger of politics, I had forgotten that unlike some countries, we have the freedom to stand up for what we believe in, and that we didn’t need to spread hatred for our message to be heard. I had forgotten that when we don’t like the way things are going, we have the freedom to vote.
While scrubbing the perpetually dirty floor, I couldn’t seem to stop grumbling about how much I despise housework. I had forgotten those who would give most anything for a floor to clean and be forever thankful for it.
I am ashamed that my thoughts were so caught up in how much I hate the sounds of the city, from the traffic, to the jets overhead, and even the neighbor’s dog barking half the night, that I had forgotten about those who awaken to the sound of war all around them, and the people who make it possible for me to have the freedom to find a quiet place away from it all.
There were moments when tears filled my eyes, loneliness threatening to overwhelm me. How had I forgotten how lucky I am to have the gift of four beautiful children, when there are people out there with empty arms to fill, arms aching for a child to love?
I had forgotten…