Torn

 It’s a tsunami day. I suspected I saw the tell-tale signs, the way I shut down… hear and see things even less than usual… feel so much more exhausted… feel wound tight, ready to snap. And snap I did, cuz I always do, because I have to. The missing, the pain cannot be repressed. They can only be released, and released, and released.

My stomach churns and my throat closes when I think about what unleashed the oncoming torrent of tears and moans.

A little girl in a store, excitedly plopping herself down to put on her new anklet that had yet to be purchased. A scolding and berating mother, broken jewelry, yelling and an adult hitting a child out of anger. I don’t care what you call it. I don’t care if the blows landed on the bottom. When it’s done in anger it’s not discipline. It’s wrong.

My hands started shaking. I had to steady myself on the shelf of trinkets in front of me. I felt the wave of panic wash over me along with fury, fear, pain and longing. I desperately longed to rescue that sweet child. I more desperately longed to take my own into my arms.

I fought my way out of the store, barely seeing, choking back sobs until I burst into the open air. I practically ran to my car, climbed in and bawled, screamed and slammed my fist into the steering wheel over and over.

I vaguely remember guiding the car to my house and collapsing onto my bed. My man came, took me in his arms and said one thing “I don’t know why.” Of course he knew what I was thinking. Why does she get to keep her child?! I don’t understand.

For the millionth time I think “I can’t do this.” I CAN’T DO THIS!!!!

The tears are unlikely to stop today. My ravaged heart just continues to be torn… more every day. Every time I see the way a toddler puts his sweet little hand on the back of his mommy’s shoulder. Every time I pass my baby’s empty room. With every agonizing breath… torn.