The Four

 Dearest Four,

    Tomorrow morning I will wake up and go to the hospital to have whatever this is that's growing inside of me removed. You four know full well that my body doesn't like general anesthesia and that all of this could end very badly. If you're reading this tomorrow, it's because it has. Of course, you could be reading this many years in the future. I may have been at your weddings, met your children, and poured more of my heart and soul into you over the years. We are never promised any amount of time, are we loves? I have also played the narrative over and over that this could be the beginning of a thousand hospital visits. It could be the entrance to more hell than I could ever care to watch you all have to see. I will hate every single second of being the body that causes you pain. I hope that dirty little word is not entering into our family, into the bubble of me and you. Of course, I don't know if it is... We will wait and see and hope.

    I have felt compelled to write something to you. C suggested I write it here, and that makes sense. I have adored every single second of being your mom. I know it's unnecessary for me to write that because you have heard me say it repeatedly. You four are the most fantastic human beings I have ever known, and what enormous gratitude I have at being able to experience you all up close and personal. I am the most fortunate woman to have been able to watch you grow in wisdom, intelligence, understanding, mercy, and love. If I have taught you anything in my short time on this earth, I hope it's that Love is the most precious thing on the planet. I beg you not to murder that. I beg you to keep your hearts raw and choose to love over and over again. When you miss me, go to Mass. Talk to me. I will be storming the gates of heaven, pestering all of the saints there, and advocating for you with every ounce of the fire and passion that I have exhibited on this planet. I was made to do that, and I will. 

    Look out for each other. Don't turn your backs on each other, and choose to be broken and raw together. You will need each other as you age more than you can ever fathom. Don't let your differences get in the way you process emotions and choose to live your lives; nor your personalities destroy that. No one on this earth will ever understand what it was like to grow up in our family but the four of you. No one. Protect the intimacy of being siblings. Guard it like it's a precious jewel. 

    Be kind to each other. I know you will all be feeling feelings that will be difficult to process. I know that some of you will be so incredibly angry that it will be hard to see straight. Be forgiving, be kind. 

    Pray. Please pray. Rage pray, cry pray, beg pray, and pour it all out on God. He is big enough, mighty enough, and He loves you enough to handle your feelings. He is, was, and always will be, for you. 

    Your father is going to be a mess. Talk to him. Don't alienate him. Go to therapy. Real therapy. Don't give up on each other. Don't let what I have loved the most on this planet be destroyed.

    It's okay to feel feelings of joy and laughter. It's okay to laugh. You know how much I love laughter, and your laughter is my favorite of all. Please laugh. Laugh about how ridiculous I have been. Talk about all of the times I was unfair. Remember that I was just as much of a mess as anyone else. Point out that sometimes I could be enormously fucked up. Don't put me on a pedestal that I don't deserve. But also don't ever forget that loving you has been the greatest joy of my life. I have never experienced such an immaculate treasure. When God looked through to my soul and saw all of the via dolorosa's that I would have to walk, He knew that four little people would bring me overwhelming joy, so He brought you to me. We have had so many fabulous memories. I have loved all of our conversations. I have loved hearing about your days. I have hurt with you, laughed with you, broken with you. I have treasured watching your minds work. I love how much you love learning. Please never stop doing that. 

    Ending this feels impossible. There's so much that I want to say, but I can't find the words. Thank you for being my children. Thank you for trusting me with your hearts and your secrets. Thank you for being such fantastic people. Please take the beautifulness that makes you you out into the world. You are amazing! I love you!

Crucifixion

 The past three weeks and two days have been a literal hell for me. The pain I have experienced and am currently walking through is so mind-boggling, so difficult to put to paper, that I can hardly stop the bouts of enormous sobs that wash over me. I have alternating periods of complete silence where I feel like I can't move, or think, or breathe. I have been shot in the back, and I'm still moving through the free fall to the cold hard earth. Or maybe I have finally hit the earth and felt the double impact of my body banging against the ground. Regardless, the trauma is immense.

I could sit for hours and try to explain to you my thoughts but it's unnecessary. You are all four walking through this simultaneously, an experience that only works to further the impact on my spirit. Not only is my whole heart destroyed, but my eyes are also forced to watch you all suffer as well. 

I told you that it's like a nuclear bomb was dropped in the center of us. I'm at the epicenter, my body is mangled, broken, destroyed, aged a hundred years, and all around the center of the epicenter is all of you: also broken, mangled, and aged. The only thing still standing is the Cross which holds our Savior. My mangled flesh is wrapped around it with its whole being. Christ is all I can hold on to.

The images that have been flooding my brain on repeat are equally devastating. The pain of this experience is unrivaled. I hate how angry you are. I hate how broken you all feel. I wish I could scream loud enough in order to take it away. I wish I could cry more, starve myself longer, or fight with my fists to any level which would make you finally feel complete. I know that is not possible.

I have reminded you, daily, how much you are loved, and how many adults you have in your life that would drop anything to support you. I have tried to check in with how you are feeling and whether or not you are okay, all while trying to see through the haze that is covering my own eyes. 

We are not alone.

Every single image that floods my mind gets tacked on to that Cross holding us all together. Every single sin is each mark that lashed our Savior. All of the emotional agony and grief that we feel is exactly the anguish that He felt in the garden, at the lashings, and while He hung... I hate that this hurt is hurting Him so much. But in a moment where I was genuinely wishing for the end of my beating heart, I heard Him cry out to me: put this on Me! And then the crucified Jesus flashed into my brain. I argued with Him and said that I don't want to hurt Him anymore. And He said Putting it on Me is the only way to heal you. So I did. And I heaved the heaviest sobs while I did so. I have spent so much time imagining myself reducing His suffering. Wanting to Love so vastly that the evil the world throws out is reduced. Even if my broken self is but a drop in the bucket, love never dies. So I resolved to love as much as I humanely could, despite how much evil remains inside of me.

Jesus climbed up on a Cross so that this enormous wound, this vast hole, the perpetuating injury could be made whole, entire, and complete. I know how much anger you feel. I know how abandoned and hurt you are. I know how scared you all feel. I cannot possibly imagine wholeness, or completeness, or ever feeling joy in my heart again, to be honest, but I know I will. Because my joy is not in humanity. My love does not come from people. All that I am is wrapped up in the One who jumped out of a perfectly good heaven, to come here to be with us. 

I know you all won't be reading this until I'm gone, and I find an element of comfort in that. Maybe when you're reading this, you will be experiencing your own nuclear bomb, and these words can give you some comfort. I have no idea. All I can say is what I keep saying to myself: run to Jesus. Run with all that you have. He is the only safe place you will ever find, and He will never hurt you.