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We Can Do Hard Things

Wading through the Inconceivable

By Dawn BeauchampPublished 8 months ago 2 min read
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We Can Do Hard Things
Photo by Hannah Xu on Unsplash

The sound of the water pounding on the bathtub floor echoes all around me. Today everything sounds louder. The lights are brighter. The hum of the bath fan is more like a swarm of locusts reverberating in my brain. Standing in a thunderstorm of steam and heat, water pours down my aching head and shoulders. I stand in the roar of the shower, closing my eyes to ground myself. It was all a dream, right? I can walk out of this bathroom, grab my phone, and talk to mom right now. She will tell me to relax and go back to bed. Yesterday did not happen how I remember. Your life doesn’t turn upside down in twelve short hours. It can’t! But it did. Mom is gone and my world will never be the same.

The bathroom door swings open and quickly clicks closed. Heavy feet pad across the bathroom floor. The curtain slides across the rod and cool air collides with my warm body. The chill lasts only a moment as he yanks the curtain back into place and stands beside me. His presence fills the shower, intruding on my space. Feeling his stare through my closed lids, I look up into his eyes for a moment before sinking back into the hot water, closing out the world. His eyes are rimmed red. Tears, lack of sleep, and worry causing red lines and blushed corners. How am I going to make it through today? Funeral homes, churches, florists-so many decisions to be made. I don’t do this. Mom coordinates the hard things, not me. She is the alpha. The one who knows all. Was. She was. It’s time for me to do hard things. I don’t know how.

My body begins to shake as tears pour down my cheeks. I can’t breathe. A one-billion-pound weight sits on my chest where my heart resides. The immensity of my new normal is incomprehensible. This is not my life. As the tears fall and the shaking makes it hard to stand, I feel his hand on my waist pulling me into his chest. I lay my head down feeling his hair rough against my cheek. The sobs come harder. I can’t stop the flood of despair. There is no room inside my heart for this type of darkness.

Water flows down my back as my skin soaks up the heat from his chest. His arms tighten and I lean in heavier. Enveloped in warmth the shaking starts to slow. His chin rests on the top of my head. He is the reason I can stand. These strong arms are holding my heart in place as it continues to shatter into smaller and smaller pieces. He’s catching the pieces, keeping them safe, until they can be glued back together. I open my eyes. My vision blurred with tears that will not stop flowing. His crystal blue eyes, brim with silent tears, and hold the same anguish as mine. I didn’t love her. We did. Our world is forever changed. I am not alone in the darkness. This man is the light glimmering on the path as we take our next step. We can do hard things.

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About the Creator

Dawn Beauchamp

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