My Lightbulb Moment

I lay in the quiet darkness. The kids are finally quiet in their beds after getting the last of their energy out before falling asleep. I hear the steady rhythm of Nic’s breathing next to me. I am so tired, weary to the bone, and yet sleep is avoiding me. In the stillness, my prayer rises up

              Dear God, I have nothing left. What do I do now? I feel empty inside- no love, no compassion, no feelings but this huge emptiness. I need love. I want to love. I don’t have any tears left to cry over this cold feeling. Where do I go from here?

I wake in the morning, still feeling that lack of life, of love, of emotion. A new day, but far from a fresh start. Where do I go from here? Where is that joy of living? Where is the love for my husband who wakes so early to provide for our family? Where is the compassion for my children, who only want to be loved? I lay in bed and feed Seb, searching for something. Anything.

I sit on the kitchen porch with my morning cup of coffee. It snowed last night while we were all tucked safely in our beds. I look around our yard – everything is covered in a fluffy white layer. I take my hood down and turn my face up to the sky, feeling the snowflakes land and melt on my cheeks. The tears start then. Tears for myself, for my husband, for our kids, who are dealing with a mother that struggles with depression. It’s not fair. Why me? These tears are cleansing, and I marvel at them – I feel! A deep sadness, so deep that words can’t describe, but it’s better than the emptiness of the night before.

I realize that I have been waiting for that lightbulb moment. The one where everything that I’ve learned and studied clicks into place and I am suddenly the person that I want to be. I’ve never resonated with the word perfectionist; that brings up images of people who are organized, everything down to the last detail. But I am a perfectionist in my own way – I expect myself to be a certain way, and when I fall short of those standards that I have set for myself, I have failed.

Here is my lightbulb moment: This is it.

This is life. I’m just me. Just a mom who doesn’t have as much patience as she would like. A wife who isn’t always understanding and loving. A friend who doesn’t always say the right thing, or reach out in the right way. A girl who has a long way to go in loving herself, in forgiving herself.

I look around at the snow again and I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. There is peace here. Forgiveness. Love. All the dirt, the dried leaves, the patchy grass is blanketed in a coat of white. I can let go of the ideals, and just let it be.