Sophie stayed home from school today because she had three huge seizures before 9:00 in the morning. I had two one-hour conversations with two different friends who completely get it.
I decided to put Sophie in her stroller and walk around our neighborhood. What's amazing and wonderful?
This giant honeysuckle-like thing that positively dripped with honey:
This girl, who is awake and alive after having three seizures:
Some days I don't know how we do it.
I am glad you have nature to nurture you.ReplyDelete
Are you scared every time, Elizabeth?
Gnarled trees, succulent flowers, and love. That's how. I learn from you. I thank you.ReplyDelete
I've said it before...but you are loving, supportive, nurturing mom...so sorry Sophie had a rough morning. I hope the walk was just what you both needed and enjoyed. Being outside has always cleared my heart and head.ReplyDelete
I don't know how you do it either. It must chip away pieces of you. And yet, that damn sun keeps rising every day so you have to keep going. There is no, "I give up". I wish Sophie, you and your family seizure-free days.ReplyDelete
I second what Birdie said.ReplyDelete
So sorry my friend. I just am happy, that in the moments you need it most, the ones that love you,love your family and love Sophie,the ones that get it, are there.ReplyDelete
That you see the amazing and the wonderful, despite it all is what is amazing and wonderful to me.
You just do it. And you find beautiful trees and flowers along the way.ReplyDelete
A gorgeous tree, a mother's perspective, a blue sky, friends, your heart....ReplyDelete
The way you do it is finding the little pieces of beauty in every part of your day.ReplyDelete
And then sharing it with the rest of us.
You have a talent for finding beauty.ReplyDelete
And that photo of you and Sophie is especially beautiful.
Sophie always looks enigmatic to me. Like she knows something we don't.ReplyDelete
You are both strong and brave. I can't imagine. When I'm panicked or overwhelmed, I always feel the need to get outside. It helps calm me, being surrounded by the out of doors. That tree looks like it's arms are open to embrace you. And I can almost smell that honeysuckle.ReplyDelete
Amazing and wonderful photos. I'm wishing you more good things.
Oh Elizabeth. Your daughter is so lucky to have you, and thank God for those trees, that sky, that beautiful face on that beautiful girl. I remember my mother telling me once, that as a girl, watching her mother deal with her 9 siblings in a store, "no child of MINE will ever be difficult" and while in college, struggling to teach kids to read, "no child of mine will ever have problems like this." And then she had us, and my sister, and we all learned a new language and learned fear and understood what silence really i, and it was hard as hell and--we keep loving, don't we? We keep seeing beauty in this world. We are seeing it along with you, and witnessing that it is damn hard too. And scaryandexhaustingandlonely. Love from Michigan.ReplyDelete
You're wisdom, Elizabeth.ReplyDelete
And you're sanity, because you choose to see renewal. You celebrate the good and look for inspiration and clasp it to your heart for sustenance. That's living meditation.
That honeysuckle tree is gorgeous.ReplyDelete
Hugs to you and Sophie.
The human brain is a beautiful and terrible place...ReplyDelete
You forgot to include YOU in that "amazing and wonderful" list. Of course you wouldn't, so I'm doing it for you. I don't know how you do it, either. Grace, I guess. In those coversations and the tree and sky and the trumpet vine and in the shadow of Sophie's curl, just tracing the line of her beautiful cheek. In the recording of it all, the awful and the beautiful.ReplyDelete
amazing and wonderful. you, elizabeth. also you.ReplyDelete
I'm so sorry that she suffers with these seizures. I wish it were otherwise, and I wish it weren't so painful for you to have to witness her suffering, day in and day out. Oh, God help us, Quan Yin and Mary, help us. Please help, and thank you for all that we have received.ReplyDelete
I pray for the war to end .....ReplyDelete
Have I told you that you're one of my she-roes? You rock, E. You do.ReplyDelete
I don't know how you do it either. But you seem to have always the right instincts.ReplyDelete