This last February, I am certain if you put your hand over my heart, you would have felt how fragile I was, frail as fresh paper-thin ice stretching her delicate body across the upheaval of bitter, tumultuous water.
I am certain on Valentine’s Day if you kept the pressure of your hand there, you would have felt the first crack.
Have you ever been in unconditional love?
If so, you will understand why the water broke free and why I ran with tears exploding from my eyes.
I remember vividly both of my children’s first snowfalls, in my arms, their plump hands reached out, they owned wide smiles, and absolute wonderment in their eyes, as did I watching them. Like that moment, everything they did was enchanting, from first steps, to first words. Trapped inside a perfect snow globe world, I thought nothing could pierce the thick shell of happiness we shared.
But by my own hands…
My careless hands…
For two years, I was barren, rotting under a thick sheet of indifference. But, on February 14th, 2011, while on my thirty-minute “hospital grounds only” walk, a vehement rage broke free. I walked off the grounds with wild eyes and my red jacket flung open; I was going to see them, no matter the distance.
Burning with fierce determination, I walked through dirty slush and declining snow .Cars raced passed me, I imagined everyone to be in a hurry to get to someone they loved, as was I.
But then I turned a familiar corner and my aggressive strides began to falter.
I had nowhere to go.
Now instead of rage, two-years of my trapped sorrow filled my lungs and escaped through my eyes.
Shaking and shriving, I turned around disoriented in the street and stumbled back.
And on February 14th 2011, a day meant for adoration, I did not receive any love letters, colourful cards, or little arms embracing me, I only received a certificate of involuntary admission, with the reason stated ,
“You are suffering from a mental disorder of a nature or quality that will likely result in serious bodily harm to yourself”
When asked why I left,
I hung my head and answered,
“I just want to go home”
I walked into my assigned room, sat on the bed and watched snow whirl outside my window. There I made a promise so resilient, not even, I would be able to break it, and for many more months within my melancholy snow globe, I thought of nothing else.
With that promise, I began to heal, began to witness beauty flourish around me, within me.
And on July 5th, 2011, I was discharged into warm summertime air.
I am certain now, if you put your hand on my heart and looked into my eyes you would feel the promise I made