It's the Matter

Today I have been thinking about family a great deal.  Family, you love them, yeah?  Particularly your crazy siblings.  Each of them came from the same halves to make a whole, and yet each whole is so very different.   But?  You love them no matter what.  It is true that no one can really make you more frustrated, but it is also true that no one can make you feel so complete.  Growing up my family was very close.  My older brother and I were constantly in trouble (luckily, he almost always took the heat...which is fair...he had the brilliant idea to begin with.) My younger brother and I had the best imaginations, and I might argue that we still do.  (Twin, he is my twin.)  And my sister?  She is my sister.  Little can be said of the relationship one has with their sister.  She is that kindred heart that steals your clothes, and makes you pee your pants laughing.

One may wonder why family?  To begin, family is really all that matters.  To love and be loved, to share emotions and thoughts with another, and have someone do the same with you.  It is true that life takes everyone along very different paths.  

For instance, my big bro is a body builder.  I for one did not see that coming from the string bean, mid-waist pant wearing, socks to the knees little boy I jumped off the roof with.  And yet?  Here he is.  My big, big brother.  Whom I affectionately refer to as Tubby.  :)

Then there is Matt Matt.  The dancer.  The amazing, crazy, fun loving little brother whom I love more than words can express.  I miss him :(  He is halfway around the world on a ship right now, dancing away to crowds of tourists.  My twin :)  

    

Then?  There is my Sissy.  My one and only, Sis.  She and I are so very, very much alike.  She is in another part of the country, striking her own way in a world that often tells you "it can't be done."  She is beautiful, and wonderful, and she is my Sissy :)  

There is something about each of them, something that cannot be defined.  Like I said, two halves of a whole.  Individual in our own ways, and yet strikingly similar.  As it seems, I am sentimental this morning.  As that is, I could go on for a very long time about my family, and not just my own parents, and brothers, and sister.  My own little family.  Cole and Jack.  Growing up we don't really realize what we have in our family.  We find ourselves fighting more than we do laughing, but as age comes, the fighting ceases, and the laughing increases.  With age comes wisdom, or so they say.  I believe it to be true, at least in a way.  I know now what my parents felt watching us grow.  Perhaps not entirely so, but to a degree.  

That's what life is all about anyway, isn't it?  Degrees.  We find wisdom and strength in something, we come to master it, and we move to the next step.  Sometimes we get stuck on a certain step, but patience brings with it vast amounts of experience. 

Wisdom, and learning.  That's what life is about. And that bottom line?  The end all be all?   

Families matter most. 

And that's all that matters. 

   

Consider the Sun

So.  Pregnancy?  It's hard.  I didn't necessarily forget how physically demanding it can be, as many have claimed may happen. The bottom line is that this round has been much more difficult than the first round.  I have heard all the momma sayings, and I know, I know, and I know.  Now, why would someone who considers herself to be an optimist start a post so not optimistically?  Keep reading.

To begin, I will simply say that morning sickness can be the equivalent of hell on earth.  And "morning" does not indicate that the ick feeling subsides once 11 rolls around.  Oh, no.  It's a lie of a phrase morning sickness is, but since the majority of women have it in the morning, they categorize the nasty to indicate such.  Anyway, now to be frank, I will admit that a very dark side of me emerged a midst the ick.  The toilet saw it, my husband saw it, and occasionally other people saw it.  I felt useless, I felt wasted, and I felt as though death itself was somehow embodied in the little growing plumb inside me.  I know a few others who's mental and physical state were worse through the first trimester, and I have found a great deal of strength from them.  The "if they can do it I can do it!" moments.  I owe them a lot, I do, and I hope they know who they are.

Well, since the glass has now been drunk, and you see it's half gone, I will ask, is it half full?  Or half empty?  Two weeks ago I may have thrown every food I wanted to eat but couldn't in your face whilst crying if you asked me that question.  But now?  Well, it's true.  It is half full and it always has been.  I just haven't allowed myself to see it as such.
Now, "morning" sickness doesn't bring out a bad side in everyone.  In fact, some go through what may be deemed a much greater trial than what I have felt in mine with a far greater amount of grace.  The facts in life are always facts, but the opinions of life are supposed to be changed from time to time.  My opinion that nothing could possibly be worth being this sick was changed with something very simple.  A sunny day.

Now.  I am not saying a nice spring like day will brighten everyone's mood no matter their circumstance, but for me I began thinking a great deal about why I wasn't handling what I was going through as well as I could have.  Or?  As well as I should have.  Granted, very few people find it easy to go day by day without eating, and throwing up a lot, but that's not the point.  The point is how I allowed myself to become bitter about it.  It was like a battle of the brain.  One side said, "Oh, it's okay, it will be okay one day."  And that was echoed by others'.  The problem with that?  It bothered me.  It still does to an extent.  I know.  I know it will all be okay.  I know I will be okay.  I KNOW that already, but knowing that doesn't help me right now, right here, in this small moment of absolute weakness.  So if knowing something doesn't always help, what does?
Simple.
Remembering that you know.

We all have moments of absolutes.  We feel we absolutely cannot see a way out of a mess, or absolutely do not understand when things will start to look up.  We absolutely cannot go on another day as we absolutely have nothing left.  It is in our absolutes that we find the most bitter tears, the greatest amount of helplessness, and the absolute feeling of being alone.  But then?  There is that sun, and yes, that sun has a double meaning.  It somehow finds its way into days of endless snow storms.  It manages to take weeks, months, or years of heartache and melt them away.  We still feel what we felt, but the warmth that illuminates a new resolution cannot be cooled.  It is always there, even when the clouds cover the warmth, it is always, always there.
Behind the snow storms and rain storms; behind every storm of every kind, regardless of intensity, the sun is always there.  There, waiting to shine on you again.  Waiting to warm you up.

No, the morning ick isn't done with.  Subsided some, yes.  Oh, but let me tell you something.
It is much easier to deal with when I let the sun in.  Yes that warm, wonderful sun.
There is just something about it.
Something about the Son.