This is the year I finally slipped under the water and stayed under, and I’m here to report that it’s OK down in the deep. I’ve spent the past 10 years kicking so hard, keeping my daughters and myself above the waves, gasping for breath and squeezing salt out of my eyes to see what’s coming for us next. 10 years is a long time to do this work alone. And while we’ve had amazing, vital support from my family and friends, I have felt very much alone in the hardest work.
Something broke inside me on the day of the Pittsburgh synagogue massacre. By that night, walking away from our tiny local candlelight vigil in the pouring rain, I could feel it, like a virus. I was sick the next morning, but not with anything I’ve had before. Soul sick, I think. I slept all day, every day, for 2 weeks, awake only just long enough to get my girls to their schools in the morning, back again in the evenings, to keep them fed and all of our animals alive. Much of single parenting is the work of Sisyphus, and this fall I had to let my rock rest at the bottom of the hill for a while, on top of me. The doctor my HMO assigned to me told me there was nothing else to do but sleep until I was done, until I’d had enough. I’m not sure that’s ever going to happen, but I woke up just enough, with just enough regained energy to wade back in.
My daughters are stronger now, and they’re starting to hold themselves up in new ways, they’re to find their own free style, to feel their own buoyancy. I’m still their lifeguard, but it’s less of a hands-on role, more coaching and modeling from an arm’s reach away. I want them to be strong swimmers, so I have taken them into the deep with me (truly, we’ve always been out here, but now they know it; this is one of those gifts of age that they might want to give back at first).
I think my daughters’ growing strength has allowed me to admit my own weakness and exhaustion. This year showed me more about who I want to become, and where I want to be, and these visions are thrilling to me, so enticing. It also showed me how far away these goals are, and for now, for the next while, I need to give in and slip under and rest in the quiet slow of the deep. It’s lovely here. I move more slowly, everything seems like more work than I can do right now, so mostly I’m just floating here, resting up, enjoying the beauty of the world and trusting that eventually I’ll be ready to surface and get back to work.
For now, if you need me, please give me time. I’m still resting up.
The Witch of Gazzam Pond 