"The cavity which suffering carves into our souls
will one day also be the receptacle of joy."
Neil A. Maxwell
will one day also be the receptacle of joy."
Neil A. Maxwell
I think I have heard this or read this quote at least a dozen times, but today I really read it.
My favorite time of the night or morning rather is from 730 to 9am. I love to lay in bed and do nothing. I don't know why that is, maybe it is because I don't want the day to start, maybe I don't want to face the truth. So often I have peaceful dreams of holding my little one, that I don't want the moment to end, I don't want to open my eyes. Because it is silent. So silent. It seems cruel to get out of bed and start the day without my Daxton.
I have picked up a few little "hobbies" if you will, some I never dreamed I would start, continue, or whatever. It is because of the extra time I have on my hands. Most people would beg for the "freedom" I have. I would beg for it to be the other way around. As it is, I have Savannah in school all day and Mikenna in a half day. I can tote her easily and for the most part she is fun to be around. Refreshing almost. She is easy, doesn't require much attention per se and so this leaves us side by side completing our own projects.
There would not have been enough time in the world for me to do what I do now if Daxton were still alive. All the attention I gave him (lovingly and UNregrettfully) required much of my time. To this day I have no regrets of that nor did I when he was with me. However such as it is, I am left without him to tend. I have learned to sew (kind of, I am definitely a work in progress), crochet, and I have picked back up my scrapbooking (of Daxton of course :)). I also have a VERY clean house, which only takes me 2 hours (and I am FREE).
Still there remains the "cavity which suffering [has] carved into [my] soul." I have looked back on the first moments when I received the "call." I actually wrote down about 2 pages of feelings of that day. I can barely read them without a translator or a box of kleenex. I have also kept a journal from that day until now. Looking back I can see the grief and sorrow from the depths of my soul. I can see how lost and alone I felt at times. I also know that it is in those moments that I was not alone. I have since had many good days and the bad days are less frequent. The cavity in my soul is not lessened or filled with "joy".... yet. But it is not any deeper either, and for that I am grateful.
One day I will wake up and Daxton will be a twinkle in my eye and there will remain there only the joyful moments of his life with bittersweet moments of his death and the time I will be able to raise him. I await the day when the "cavity in my soul" will be a "receptacle of joy."
My favorite time of the night or morning rather is from 730 to 9am. I love to lay in bed and do nothing. I don't know why that is, maybe it is because I don't want the day to start, maybe I don't want to face the truth. So often I have peaceful dreams of holding my little one, that I don't want the moment to end, I don't want to open my eyes. Because it is silent. So silent. It seems cruel to get out of bed and start the day without my Daxton.
I have picked up a few little "hobbies" if you will, some I never dreamed I would start, continue, or whatever. It is because of the extra time I have on my hands. Most people would beg for the "freedom" I have. I would beg for it to be the other way around. As it is, I have Savannah in school all day and Mikenna in a half day. I can tote her easily and for the most part she is fun to be around. Refreshing almost. She is easy, doesn't require much attention per se and so this leaves us side by side completing our own projects.
There would not have been enough time in the world for me to do what I do now if Daxton were still alive. All the attention I gave him (lovingly and UNregrettfully) required much of my time. To this day I have no regrets of that nor did I when he was with me. However such as it is, I am left without him to tend. I have learned to sew (kind of, I am definitely a work in progress), crochet, and I have picked back up my scrapbooking (of Daxton of course :)). I also have a VERY clean house, which only takes me 2 hours (and I am FREE).
Still there remains the "cavity which suffering [has] carved into [my] soul." I have looked back on the first moments when I received the "call." I actually wrote down about 2 pages of feelings of that day. I can barely read them without a translator or a box of kleenex. I have also kept a journal from that day until now. Looking back I can see the grief and sorrow from the depths of my soul. I can see how lost and alone I felt at times. I also know that it is in those moments that I was not alone. I have since had many good days and the bad days are less frequent. The cavity in my soul is not lessened or filled with "joy".... yet. But it is not any deeper either, and for that I am grateful.
One day I will wake up and Daxton will be a twinkle in my eye and there will remain there only the joyful moments of his life with bittersweet moments of his death and the time I will be able to raise him. I await the day when the "cavity in my soul" will be a "receptacle of joy."
7 comments:
you are in our thoughts and prayer. love the quote
I love you my friend! See you soon
That was great! Thank you for that. You are strong and I feel strengthened by you.
I found your blog off of a post that my cousin's wife did (Lindsay Mcglauchlin). I have just cried for the past hour reading your sweet and heartfelt posts about your sweet little boy. I have a little boy who is at the same age that Daxton would be, and I have been so frazzled lately taking care of him with all of his energy and mischief. Thank you for giving me such a different outlook, and thank you for sharing his little spirit. I cry for you as a mother, and I will pray that you will continue to be carried through this. You are such a beautiful person.
Hey Britt just wanted to let you know that I am thinking of you. Love you tons! Rell
What a deep thought. I've read that before, but never really 'read' it. Amazing how outlooks can change with perspective.
Interesting Brittany. Because when I have read or heard this quote I take it to mean once we leave this life then the joy will fill that receptacle. But you gave me a different perspective. Thanks for that.
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