I sit in the front seat of the car outside the vet clinic where I just dropped my baby boy off for xrays to rule out metastatic melanoma.
I feel the prickling behind my eyes and recognize it as fear. One step farther down the path from pain.
And I wonder, what if I stop at honoring the feeling and don’t go so far as to name it?
What if I sit with this ache behind my eyes,
the heaviness in my chest?
Just sit.
How do I arrive at this point and not give in to the inertia that pushes me forward to the next?
The questions.
What if…?
How do I…?
Stop.
I recognize my own tendency toward forward motion. Moving always. Through,
or past.
Even if it means moving into fear, panic, anxiety.
What will I do without this lovely boy?
The question flits into being.
I let it go.
Don’t move past,
through,
away.
Sit with this moment in honor of my boy. This moment is all there is. It won’t last forever but the least I can do is feel it while it’s here and give it space.
And as I sit and breathe, floating in this moment, I discover a place of okay has opened up to me, offered itself, and I sit.
Beautifully written Kari. Hoping for good news. Wishing you the best.
Beautiful. Living in the moment; it's all there is. Much love to you and the dog.
Sending prayers. I've sat in that exact place and know the path you chose yesterday. May you find its peace no matter the outcome.
This is beautiful and I feel your pain, truly. Sending love, love, love.
You are setting a good example of mindfulness – thank you for this. It will help you and him, and everyone who reads this. Blessings to you and your boy!