Sunday, May 10, 2015

Cerulean Blue

It used to be my favorite color in the crayon box. It was too deep a shade of blue to be aquamarine, and not green enough to be considered teal, but it was the most calming and surprising blue in the box.

That's all I could think when I walked into the Emergency Room and saw you there, looking so small, not in your clothes, but the t-shirt and scrub pants they issued you. Like the color of the ocean, you were certainly swimming in the cerulean blue tee, because it was way too big for your diminutive frame. Just like your emotions.

I watched you crack, and held you to keep you from drowning in your tears. As tiny as you are, you were much bigger than the little baby I used to hold when she cried because the day had been overwhelming. In the Emergency Room, you had to fold yourself into me to try to fit on my lap as I wrapped my arms around you and held you as you struggled against the void that threatened to swallow you.  I struggled to be your anchor and held on to love you as much and as best I could in the moment.

While we waited for them to find you somewhere to go that was safe, that wasn't home, that wasn't school, that wasn't the ER, but that would keep you here -- the room they held you in seemed to enlarge the void that you were struggling against. Nothing but gray and green walls and your thoughts to keep you company.

You were locked behind a door, tucked away. I couldn't leave you there alone for very long, and I wanted to make sure I was there to keep you company, to distract you from the cuts of your thoughts, the sharp shards of pain and loneliness that were ripping you into shreds, leaving you full of tears, and empty of everything else.

I stroked your hair and remembered how I used to hold you and sing to you when nothing else seemed to work. Silent tears wet my cheeks as I looked back on all the times I should have held you when you began to grow and I thought you didn't need me as much, or I was too busy to stop and see YOU, to HOLD you, to acknowledge that you were there, and I was there for you. 

I knew it wasn't all the time, but it was enough to make you feel adrift and lost, leaving us to dance like boxers in the ring when we had forgotten just how often we had held onto one another when the tides of our lives shifted and the seas were tough.

And when I had to leave you, to let you heal, to work with those who were more objective and better qualified to help you find your own True North-- I sang to you a snippet of Marley's "Three Little Birds," and I hoped and prayed to whoever might be listening that every little thing would truly be alright, with you, and me and the rest of us.

In a short period of time, it has gotten better. I know there will be storms and I hope with all hopes that there will be no more perfect storms, and I pray that if there are, the rescue plans we have in place will see you through, that you will become your own beacon, and I can stand on the cliffs knowing you will safely arrive to calmer shores.

I love you more than you will ever know, and cerulean blue will always remind me just how precious and fragile our hearts and lives can be.

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