Saturday, 1 May 2010

Happiness is the Art of Being Broken

My favourite poet is Bruce Dawe, his anthology "Sometimes Gladness" is my go-to book, particualrly when I am sad, or reflecting on life.

Today I am sad. Through this journey my family have been on with Joseph, we have met some amazing people, both in real life, and also on line.

Yesterday many of us supported a mummy who had a baby at 26 weeks. She was born yesterday, and then, sadly, she died. We say many things "grew wings", "crossed the rainbow bridge", "flew away", but it all means, tragically, the same thing. This little baby died.

And I feel sad. I feel sad for all the babies I have been involved with who have not made it, and for the parents who are devastated, broken, bleeding from the inside.

Yesterday I learned of another sadness, a dear webby friend who has been "missing" for a few weeks. I was hoping she was so much in love with her dear son, she didn't have time for the internet. No, she has been in a psychiatric unit for 5 weeks suffering from puerperal psychosis.

Chemistry can be evil. Brain chemistry, body chemistry.....we can research, we can learn, we can study, but sometimes we just can't stop the chemistry.

I feel the weight of sadness today. I never stop being grateful that Joseph is here and well, but I can't help feeling survivior guilt.

"Thank you for love, no matter what its outcome
that leads us to the window in the dark,
that adds another otherness to others
that holds out stars as if they were first diamonds..."

Definition of Loving
Bruce Dawe

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