Will It.

This morning I met a woman, older than I, further along in life and its experiences and we spoke about how we move forward, past loss. I said Lily is my purpose, that one has to be resilient to endure.
She said there are many people who are not strong in this world.
Many.
She said you have to Will It.

So true.

I always felt odd when people commended me for my "strength". Yes, I was and am aware of it, that power I harnessed when Alan and I were deep in the trenches, the energy I found when we were broken in spirit, and the determination to continue on with my life for Lily, with Lily. But to me despite my slumps, dark moments, and ever ache, it is what one does.
You rise to the occasion.
It's what you do.
I think.
I thought.
And though there were times when an end to my life seemed enticing (had I not been pregnant),I knew, having seen a love robbed of his - that that just wasn't
a
fair
choice.

No Way (as Lily now frequently exclaims).
No.
Way.
It was a selfish thought.
Foolish to even entertain.

But ahhh that's what death will do.
It caresses those left behind, sells an unknown destination, hijacks a beating heart. Leaves you sitting in unbearable quiet.

You have to will it away.
Will yourself to stay - as best you can.

And for that, you need only to whisper a wish - quietly to yourself.
No strength required.

Mother's Day is one of my toughest holidays.
But I will will myself to find wholeness where there is indeed a hole.

This morning when Lily awoke way way WAY too early and crawled into my bed, I loved feeling her soft hand under mine, resting around my waist.
It was
the
best.
So soft, unscathed, warm, relaxed.

Her love and presence fill me up.
She lives with such abandon she is freeing to watch.

She
just
IS.

Willful without intention.

For her, it is all about being.

Effortless.

Pure.