Safe here

Some of my most darkest moments come from a place of the most love.

From loving them so hard, with all of me, all the time.

Because they have all of me, all of the time.

And it gives me more than I could have ever wished for.

Their unwavering and unconditional love.

Their important daily lessons.

Their ability make the world right again, without even knowing how.

But there is so much wrong with the world.

And I think about this often.

Too often.

I get so caught up in my mind, deep in the parts I’d rather not think about.

I worry so much for them.

It’s a constant worry.

The worry about whether I’m doing enough.

Whether they’re getting enough.

Whether they will always know they are so much more than enough in a world which sometimes expects too much.

And then there’s everything else.

On the news, in the documentaries, everywhere I look.

The wrong is everywhere without looking.

It’s hard to see.

And it’s even harder to unsee,

Although I so desperately try to.

As a mother it hits close to home.

Too close.

They are my home.

And I want to keep them safe, always.

With them laying on my lap, so small, within my reach.

I just wish they could stay here forever.

They are safe here.

And in moments of seeing things I’d rather not, and my mind taking me away to unhelpful places of what could be but hopefully will never be, I wish I knew how to keep them safe always.

I wish that was possible.

But it’s not.

It’s about letting go when needed and trusting in the course of life and humanity itself.

It’s about trusting in the good people in the world, because there are still good people.

It’s about reminding myself that I can’t keep them safe here on my lap forever, but we can both know that I’ll continue to be a safe place for them when they need it.

I know what it’s about.

I always have.

It’s just that knowing doesn’t make it any easier.