Motherhood: Hope Always Wins

Today dawned cloudy, but by noon it was sunny and warm, pushing 70 degrees.  I went to the gym at noon, and our workout today involved a significant amount of running.  I ran a lot before I joined Cross Fit, but I haven’t run all winter and I’ve lost my stamina.  When I saw the workout I was filled with dread.  Of course the victims of the bombing and their recovery is still first and foremost on everyone’s minds.   However, today I was specifically thinking about all of those amazing runners, many of whom were just a mile or two away from completing their first major race.  Others had run before, but were on track to set a personal best time.  What an incredible let-down to be told that the event has been canceled, that you should slow down and walk, or even worse, retreat away from the finish line.  Then, to hear the unthinkable news that people had been killed at your event, in your town (for many), likely by terrorists.

I dug deep, and I won’t lie: it sucked.  Today it was all sprints: a lap around the building going all-out followed by a 30-second rest, and then repeat it ten times.  I felt my brow soaked in sweat, felt the beady line of perspiration forming under my sports bra, and my aching feet (I wore my flat sneakers instead of my running shoes, big mistake!).  I heard all of the other folks doing the workout, some ahead, some behind, our deep breathing, determined to finish at any cost.  When it was over, I finally felt myself coming out of the fog I’ve been living in for the last week.

After we were done, I grabbed my water and checked my phone before stretching.  My heart sank. An email from my sister revealed that a life-long mentor of my brother’s had passed away.  The man was incredible and touched so many lives.  In the course of a minute, all of my newly felt happiness came crashing down.  I felt crushed and defeated again.   For the rest of the afternoon I felt empty, contemplating a few deep thoughts:

Why do we seem to lose the best people?  AND  Imagine what life could be like if love were enough to fix  absolutely anything?

As I wallowed in my melancholy state, I ate a series of unhealthy snacks that basically cancelled out all of the good my workout had done.   I gave myself a mental kick in the ass and vowed to think positive thoughts for the rest of the day.  Some days it feels like it takes every ounce of me to make that happen.  How can there be such evil in the world?  How will I survive the anxiety and worry I have for my children’s safety in this ever-changing world where terrorism has landed in our backyard?  I’m struggling with these issues every day, like many of us.

Tonight when I put the kids to bed, I noticed the full moon shining like a silver dollar through the window, glistening.  Whitney noticed it too, and we both exhaled, momentarily overcome with a sense of calm and peace.  We looked together for the Man In The Moon and while I can’t officially confirm it, I think we both saw him up there somewhere in the night sky.

Tomorrow will arrive  as it always does, bringing with it another chance for a better day.  With that will come the unfaltering belief  that for me, hope always wins.





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