kia ora
it's been such a long time between posts, I wonder if there's anyone out there?!
I can't even promise to continue posting regularly (thus smashing the golden rule of blog posting). But, there's closure on this chapter to be had. And I am perhaps working towards that. Or, keeping an open blog for now: I still have 2 more sons about to move through the gnarly years.
I'm writing because last night as I was vacuuming the house, and doing some cooking, I remembered those 2am, and later, nights waiting waiting waiting for my eldest boy to come home, utterly despairing, keeping myself busy by baking and cleaning long into the night. *those 2am muffins were pretty good, not that I've made them for ages*
I remembered how posting to this blog, connecting with all of you, sharing your stories privately, or through the comments page, gave me a focus and a connection to others that helped me get through those dark dark days and nights. Thank you.
It was so different last night.
Last night, I had 5 teenaged boys here, friends of my middle son. One is a brilliant pianist and he can play just about anything, including requests from me. In return, I teach him a few classical pieces and, bless him, he plays them by ear while I still need the sheet music. Another boy plays guitar. And ukelele. All the boys can sing beautifully. So in between killing virtual people on Playstation (an annoyance I barely tolerate), they break into song, their deep young masculine voices lifting the roof off the house.
It was heart-warming.
They made lots of noise, but it wasn't shouting and swearing at me.
They cooked rice pudding and ate it at 11pm. Not because they had the munchies, or had not turned up at home all day. But because they are boys needing to eat all the time.
The bedroom smells of boys - there's 4 asleep in there. It doesn't reek of smoke and booze. Just of smelly boys.
I woke at 6am, not in a blind panic that my son/s weren't home. I woke after a good sleep.
Things have changed. As they do.
Does time heal all wounds? Learning to live with pain is human endurance, but learning to heal the pain is freedom.
This, from DailyOM, to close off for now: " it is never too late in life to heal what hurts, and there is never a better time than now."
