Rainbows in a Rainstorm

As we walked through the garage towards the children's hospital entrance, her sweet little voice said, "Mommy, I'm nervous."

I took a deep breath, my mind quickly questioning, whether I should put on the brave face or the honest one...Then I realized that the doing latter helped one truly embody the other...

"I'm nervous too, baby."

I always said that I got a head start at life and that we all eventually catch up to it if given the gift of a long life. Early on I learned one of her biggest truths and from there on out I raced through the gate. "If I experience it, I will know it. If I know it, I can't be swallowed whole by it." this was the pseudo-philosophy I convinced myself of...a philosophy, that as a mom now, I realize must have terrified my parents. A philosophy that did not prepare me to watch our daughter walk off into a room without me, to be sedated and eventually placed into an MRI machine.

The journey to get to this day has been hard, terrifying, and one of total surrender. The type of journey that I know I will come out of changed because my mind, heart, and soul have been put through the kiln of life. A fire that I prefer to roll myself into gently, instead of being shoved into the flames of, but that's life...beautifully clothed in the illusion of control, but a true nudist at its core, running through your life at the most unexpected time. "I did not see that one coming!" being my normal response.

I'm writing this from the children's hospital surgical waiting room, and the results most likely won't arrive till next week, but I wanted to remember this feeling...the heart stripped down to its core, not giving a shit about anything other than what is real and honest and love embodied. I'm sure you know it. That honey-badger vibe of not giving a fu@# about what your truest self knows doesn't matter, has a tendency of only coming forth when birth, death, and the deeply unimaginable transpire.

I look around me at the other parents, sipping at their hot beverage, staring at a wall, maybe praying silently or offering deals with the heavens above, "Please, please, let them be okay." This is real. This is honest. This is a place where love is embodied and fear is crippled by the light.

I am amazed at the capacity of love in me at this moment.

It gives me hope...for everything.