(Emma with her tiny love Lucy Jean)
Hours before sunrise on Monday morning, I woke to a racing heart, thoughts not allowed in my conciseness the day before assaulted me in my dreams.
So many things just not right. So many things that could go wrong in the lives of my adult children, a friend, in my own life…I tried carefully to pull the thoughts apart but like the chain of a necklace knotted tight, I couldn’t untangle them…all those worries. For the first time in my memory, I went back to bed not wanting move forward with the day. I slept another two hours. When I woke the second time, my legs felt like cement and the act of filling my lungs with air was monumental. I knew this day would be a fight to stay above murky water.
Trying with all my might to let go of the worry, my mind kept making lists of how to fix issue after issue. I need to do this, or say this, or help with this…then I can fix things. I prayed and read scripture but my focus stayed firmly on “fixing”.
Just as I started a load of laundry, my daughter Emma called.
“Hi, how are you and Lucy doing?” I tried to rid my tone of heaviness but she was having none of it.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” she ignored my question and pressed in…something I would do.
“I’m just having a bad day, it has nothing to do with you.” Breathe Robin…”I’m sorry Em, I can’t talk right now.”
I hate to let my kids know when I’m having a rough day. I can almost always fake it with my son Timothy, but my three girls have their mother’s radar and they can tell if something’s wrong.
After I got off the phone with Emma, I heaved another bolder of worry onto the pile knowing our conversation would bother her.
I shouldn’t have answered the phone. She doesn’t need to worry…
Grabbing my iPod I headed out the door for a walk. For thirty minutes Ann Voskamp’s soothing voice encouraged me with chapter 8 of One Thousand Gifts. The last fifteen minutes I counted God’s gifts to me as I walked the road home.
Inside the house, our four pups screamed for joy as though I’d been gone for 2 weeks. Shushing them I picked up my phone. A text from Emma. Punching buttons to get to the text my thoughts raced…
Oh no, I knew I worried her. I have to call her back and convince her I’m fine…
“Mom, I’m sorry you’re having a bad day. I love you to the moon”
A smile lit up my eyes before it even got to my lips. My daughter was just sending love. She wasn’t trying to fix my day or untangle my worry…she was just sending love.
How utterly simple.
How completely freeing.
I don’t have to fix everything for everyone. Sometimes the best I can do is love them.
Like late morning sun burning off thick fog, my tension dissolved.
# 492-Emma reminding me that sometimes all I need to do is love.