I went to Austin over the weekend. I found a place to live, went to church, saw some of the city.
We had dinner with some distant relatives Sunday evening. It was a great night, and I loved meeting them.
Today, though, I've been thinking about an exchange that transpired that evening. My cousin Christopher said, in an effort to keep his two-year-old son from screaming, "Let's use our words. We're using our words, Dalton."
I understand the importance of using our words, particularly when we're trying to convey something more adequately expressed with words and not screaming. It's a valuable lesson, and one I think he'll learn in time.
Recent events have made me wonder how we learn to express ourselves when our words seem so very inadequate to the task, when there are no entries in the dictionary which will cover the profound depth of our feelings.
As I sit here, my family is faced with the prospect of losing one of our own, someone we love, someone we wish to save from suffering, though doing so means we adopt the suffering of those left to carry on.
I left the hospital tonight on my way to dinner with my family, and passed the most lovely sailboats gliding across the lake. For a moment, all I wanted to do was stop and shoot those sailboats. They were beautiful, idyllic. It was as though life on the lake was as it should be, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of the family's present situation.
I came home tonight to the news that a friend of mine had survived a horrific wreck, one which will cost her dearly in the coming months. I wish I knew what to say to her, but at this moment, on this day, my words have failed me.
My heart is heavy in ways I cannot explain and for reasons most people cannot fathom. My words have failed. I should have shot the sailboats.
We had dinner with some distant relatives Sunday evening. It was a great night, and I loved meeting them.
Today, though, I've been thinking about an exchange that transpired that evening. My cousin Christopher said, in an effort to keep his two-year-old son from screaming, "Let's use our words. We're using our words, Dalton."
I understand the importance of using our words, particularly when we're trying to convey something more adequately expressed with words and not screaming. It's a valuable lesson, and one I think he'll learn in time.
Recent events have made me wonder how we learn to express ourselves when our words seem so very inadequate to the task, when there are no entries in the dictionary which will cover the profound depth of our feelings.
As I sit here, my family is faced with the prospect of losing one of our own, someone we love, someone we wish to save from suffering, though doing so means we adopt the suffering of those left to carry on.
I left the hospital tonight on my way to dinner with my family, and passed the most lovely sailboats gliding across the lake. For a moment, all I wanted to do was stop and shoot those sailboats. They were beautiful, idyllic. It was as though life on the lake was as it should be, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of the family's present situation.
I came home tonight to the news that a friend of mine had survived a horrific wreck, one which will cost her dearly in the coming months. I wish I knew what to say to her, but at this moment, on this day, my words have failed me.
My heart is heavy in ways I cannot explain and for reasons most people cannot fathom. My words have failed. I should have shot the sailboats.
posted by Audrey at 8:40 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home