Your family are out and you are busy tidying up the destruction only two small children can make.
In your son’s room, wading through the pieces of plastic and tiny bits of Lego you are trying to find the floor among the chaos.
On your knees, picking up the pieces of a board game, paying attention to the colour, the texture of the pieces of plastic animals in your grip, you are ensuring to keep grounded while you are alone.
When you look up and out of the window at the sun breaking through the clouds, at the beauty of the green trees that almost but not quite, block the sun.
The sun is like a spotlight- you on your knees, looking right up. And you can’t contain it, just for a few moments, you just can’t keep it in any longer.
As much as you fight it, even though you try to block it out with your hand, it keeps on shining down on you. Shining so brightly, which seems so very wrong because you are paralysed. On your knees and paralysed by your grief, by an agony that no one you know could ever begin to imagine.
You fight it, you battle it with every piece of you, but still you can’t move. So you pray. You beg for it to stop and you wonder if He is listening, if He even gives a shit, because He never seemed to back then..
You are alone now, as alone as always. So you push it away and you get to your feet, like a thousand times before. With a throbbing head, you reflect on the loneliness, the pain and on almost breaking down.
You wonder if it will ever be safe to let go and you reach the usual conclusion:
One day. Maybe one day you will feel safe enough to let it out. Maybe one day, you won’t feel so alone.