because a sad face is good for the heart. Ecclesiastes 7:3.
My youngest daughter told me last night her desire to reach her pain; the pain of yet another story of incest.
I had to go to bed and cry.
She is my baby girl. Could there not be one thing that was scarred from my past life? Just one?
I guess not.
I’ve learned that there is no way to live a deep, authentic life without having the strength to tell my story and listen to the story of my children.
Sorrow.
Yet, there is great joy between us as well.
My children and I no longer live in the shadows of the unknowns with each other – darting around one other with silent anger – carrying our grief and shame alone. We let the sorrow of ourselves come to the dinner table. We permit it to sit alongside us, dine with us, take up space. Our grief is welcome.
That is the only way we can truly enjoy our dessert together.
