I was supposed to go out and plant William's flowers today, but by the time I got my act together, it started to rain. But it wasn't just any rain... it was a sudden storm. My email is set up to tell me about storms, but I wasn't on the computer at the time. (M. calls me "weather girl" because I always know what the weather is going to be - he asks every morning, "What's the forecast, weather girl?")
And this one gave us very little warning. One minute, it was sunny and beautiful. The next, it turned dark, the winds picked up, and the sky opened and began to pour. I called the kids in - they came running - and we hurried around the house closing windows and doors and then stood shivering at the doorwall, watching the lightning and listening to the thunder. Both kids huddled with me, one on each side, and I realized how frightened I am now in the face of nature.
Standing there, I put on a brave face for the kids, but inside, I was trembling. One of the reasons I always check the weather is so I can plan. Another reason - the real reason, if I'm being honest - is so I can believe I have some modicum of control. If I know what's coming, surely I can get out of the way...
But sometimes there's no warning. Sometimes lightning strikes anyway, even if there is a warning. And always, nature wins. Tsunamis, tornados, the new swine flu, a landslide, a house fire, cancer, a stillborn baby... who can fight against that? It's like punching clouds, flailing at fog, snapping at rain, screaming into a storm. What good does it do?
I can't fight it, I can't avoid it, I can't predict it. I can only stand and weather it, whatever comes. There's no doppler radar, no early warning system. Life is going to keep on rolling, until it doesn't, at least for me, anymore. It's going to keep on keeping on, no matter what I do, what I want, whether I'm here or not, whether my child is dead or not. My fear won't stop it. My anger won't either.
It's a humbling and awesome realization.
5 comments:
What a powerful post. You are so right though, control is an illusion.
I read a quote on a church sign this week, and your thoughts here cause me to recall it: "A sure sailor does not guarantee a calm storm." Not that preparation isn't positive, but regardless of our preparedness, there are no outcome guarantees at all. That is indeed a humbling realization...
Yep, it's one of the great illusions in life ... that we have any "control". And yet many of us believe that we've got everything in its little box, and that we make the choices and we choose the outcome. It's only when something so awful happens -- like losing a much loved baby -- that we may come to realise that none of us have any control really.
beautiful...
Like you, the death of my baby shattered any illusion of control I had previously held on to. It was so, so scary. Now, almost a year on, I've come to see it as almost liberating. I feel lucky in some ways, like she gave me this incredidble gift... then I feel sad that I could ever find something happy in Iris' death.
P.S. thank you for your lovely comments on my blog, I'm so glad they led me here. x
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