Unearthed

March 1 -- I have discovered a new album by E.S. Posthumus that I really like a lot.  It's called "Unearthed" and I found out about it, in all places, my spinning class.  The spinning teacher used the track "pompeii" two weeks in a row and I just fell in love with it.

So Luke put it up on my itunes listing on my computer and as I write this entry, I am listening to it with its haunting singing and inspirational beat.  The combination is awesome, almost majestic.  I love it.  But what I almost like more is the album title.  It kind of describes how I feel these days -- heaved out of the ground and yes, unearthed.  As though I am raw and exposed.  One would think it is this blog which makes me feel so vulnerable but it's not.  It's my kids and everything they are going through.  It's my parents and the act of watching them hold onto each other for dear life as they navigate each day, forging through the challenges of dealing with my dad's illness.  Watching everyone I love so much deal with their ups and downs -- my heart just aches from my feelings of helplessness.   Sometimes it's all I can do to hold back the tears.

Don't get me wrong.  There is so much joy, so much hope and pride in all that they do.  My son trying his hardest at his Little League baseball tryout and then waiting, anxiously, by the phone and computer to find out if he made the majors.  So much stress for a game that he will probably only play for a few more years, at best.   I know already he is not destined for baseball greatness.  Destined for many other wonderful things, yes, but I would not put my money on baseball.  When I think of the positives in my life I see my mother, reaching out for my father's hand as he desperately tries to remember what it was he started out to say only seconds before.  I see the love, the ambition, the hope.  So why does it hurt so much to watch?

I want to fix it all.  I want everyone to be happy.  But I know only too well that life is filled with ups and downs.  Rejections from colleges and good news from others.  It's the waiting that is unearthing me.  The act of trying to figure out how things will turn out combined with the reality that in this moment, I know nothing.  Nothing except for what I told Riley as I tucked him into bed.  He is a little boy who is loved very much.  Life is long.  As long as we make the most of each day, as long as we reach out and support each other, all is well.  All is well.