hugs

monday afternoon, while shopping in new york, i got a phone call from todd. he was dismissive about my probings into his day at school because he said he had something to tell me. the story he told me, of the night before, was disturbing. his tears in the retelling broke my heart. i found a chair in the shop and sat listening, tears in my eyes to match his.

the story was one of careless words spoken under the influence and my boys on the receiving end. i heard fear and confusion and pain. and i wanted more than anything in the world to be able to wrap my arms around them both and make it better.

but i couldn't. and even now, home with my boys, i can't seem to find the right words for the situation. how can i explain that though nothing can excuse the behavior, the words were from a bottle and not a mind? or should i? i don't even know. i just find myself saying over and over, 'i'm so sorry this happened and you are hurting' and holding them in long hugs.

tonight luke stood in the shower, behind a locked door, crying. when i went to him, he said it was my fault, for going to new york. i know he doesn't really think that. he's just crushed and doesn't know where to put it. he laid his wet head against me for a hug, still in the shower, water running down his body, and cried, 'it doesn't matter if he didn't mean it. he still said it.'

and i'm at a loss myself. i hear the three c's of alanon banging up against my maternal instinct to protect my children and i feel helpless.

the weather gurus are all predicting a heavy snow tomorrow in atlanta. by 'heavy' i mean a few inches. it really only takes a dusting to shut things down, so one to three inches may as well be one to two feet. truly, the city doesn't own snow plows; so when snow does fall, if it needs to be moved, they use a road grader. (job security for the pothole posse, at least.)

if it comes as expected, we'll be snowed in. no school and considering my tires resemble the michelin man's head, i will probably opt not to do much, if any driving.

snowed in.

in some ways, i welcome that. perhaps a layer of snow between us and the outside world will insulate our family. perhaps it will allow the healing to begin. perhaps the pristine, white, wonder world of snow can magically transform my boys' pain.

as certainly as they are both dreaming of a school cancellation; i can dream too, right?

d: snow angels of healing
b: though words may fail me, my hugs help.. i hope.
g: my own experience as it avails my compassion