Change

And this is my struggle.  And this is my prayer.

They come through the door, their eyes and mouths smiling.  And I tense, again.  There it is again- anger.  I hold myself back just enough that I think will protect but it doesn't.  I feel smallness in me, the smallness that sits on my heart large.

I wanted this for them.  I raised them for this.  Their independence, their joy.  I prayed for this.

And now it is here and I tense.  Hold back myself. 

And fear.

What if I give myself fully to this part of their lives and I lose it, too?  Then the next step of their lives will begin and I'm needed even less than I am now and then I lose this time that I forced myself to accept now and lean into.

You gave them to me and my fingers are here saying I lose when I know I have really won.  But this house is so lonely sometimes.  Sometimes it's just so obvious what is gone.

And now this is the end of this.  For I saw this very hurt line my mama and I will stop it here.  I will teach and I will show different.  I take that last step out of my old life, that life of six breathing sleep at night all close, and into this new.

And this is my struggle and my prayer. 

I had written this.  It was in my drafts.  Between God and me.  Too pathetic to post.  Too embarrassing to recognize? 

Then weeks later I read words that tell me that life change comes when we recieve life with thanks and ask for nothing to change.

Ask for nothing to change.  Don't ask for them back - even on hard lonely harder days.  Don't wish their childhoods again, those days when just the three of us girls went about our lives in a world that seems like a lifetime away. 

And be grateful for the here and now, not just most of the time - but all of the time.

And change is defined twice.  This change - this wishing for something different - that I walk away from will bring about the change that transforms and converts into a new spring.

And this is my prayer.