30 little minutes-

it only took 30. little. minutes. to set me back almost 4 years.  30 minutes of mounting panic, mental bargaining, searing disbelief-
And I'm back in the sea of grief, tumbling under crashing waves of pain that relentlessly pound me, refusing to give me even a minute to catch my breath.
It was such a simple thing.  I told her-"ride down to the Best's and I'll meet you there."  She heard, "ride down to the beach and I'll meet you there."
Realizing she's not there, chalking it up to miscommunication and assuming she's at home.  Finding out she's not.  SHE'S NOT, no matter how many times I call Eva and make her check.  Driving to the Pier, then the public beach access, following the back route she normally takes to get there, checking the bike parking, driving the back loop again, going home again, calling Charles, my friend and I searching, sending her kids searching-
She can defend herself, she's cautious, she's alert-
And still, my mama heart went there.
To that place where NO mama heart ever wants to go.
Dammit, mine lives there.
No matter how much time passes or how many years I get to have with the precious ones who have remained, my heart still lives in that chasm of pain and fear, disbelief and sorrow, terror and gut wrenching agony.  Because I know that lightning CAN strike twice-or in my case 3 or 4 or even 5 times.

Sure, I can plod along, stuffing my feelings, pretending I'm ok and plastering this stupid smile on my face.

But it literally only took 30 minutes to fling me back into crying in the grocery store, my heart pounding, my ears rushing with the assault of sound and life and NORMAL.

Of course it wasn't quiet in that damn grocery store where I went to wander the aisles.  Because that's what you do sometimes when your heart is broken and your brain won't function, when you just
need. a. damn. minute.  
There was this ridiculously adorable little boy, dark haired and wide eyed, dressed in his rain boots and crazy clothes, pushing his little cart and chatting up a storm with anyone who looked his way.
Holy mother of all things, I wanted to walk up to his mom and just hug her.  Hug her so hard. And tell her how lucky she was, and really, how freaking great she was because she just let him be-
SO. DAMN. LITTLE.
But I didn't.  I bought my stupid dairy free yogurt, my bananas and my wine.
And then I went to get Charley from karate.
Charley.
Because I finally found her at the beach.  After the 3rd or 4th time of driving the stupid loop, checking the bike racks, calling Eva, and calling Charles.  I parked the car and I started walking to the Pier, and then I was running and then I was beseeching-
Sweet Jesus-this can't be happening-NOT AGAIN.
My eyes scanning frantically, not seeing, not recognizing.
Until I spied her in the distance.
Standing at the edge of the surf.  Waiting, watching, ready to take on the ocean and make it her friend, her ally, her place of refuge.

Oh friends, my heart.  I don't know how much more it can take, so I'm thankful that today it kept beating, kept me breathing and thinking and driving and moving until I found her.
And I'm thankful for my precious friend and her children, who searched with me.  And celebrated with me by teaching her to make the ocean her ally as they taught her to surf.  Something I could never do.  Seriously.  NEVER.

Today, my heart is filled with inexplicable gratitude for the One who gave her to me, Who brought these amazing friends into our lives, and for the promise of another day with my sweet girl.  

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; 

and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. 

When you walk through the fires, you will not be burned; 

the flames will not set you ablaze. 

For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior...

Isaiah 43:2-3a

I just have to keep walking, trusting and praying.  It's the only way to save my sanity. And my broken heart.  

love, 

clan mac mama