A Companion in the Storm

Today was a day for her. She's standing in the middle of the kitchen, overwhelmed. She was trying to cook dinner, but the dishes weren't clean yet. That was because she had work today, and she hadn't had time since she'd gotten home. She had dealt with 11 toddlers at work for 6 years, and she'd come home and her own young children needed her attention, praise, conversation, stimulation, and validation.

Her dad had called her to tell her that mom was going to the ER, again. Worry was coiled tight in her stomach about her mom more often than it wasn't. The woman who had been larger than life to her as a child was small, feeble, delicate, and withering away in the presence of mind and body. It triggers the spiral of sadness knowing that her mother is not going to be around forever, and she pushes back the powerful feeling of being lost.

Her mother was the only one she'd had in her life for a long time. She didn't have a dad until a decade ago when her mom had met the best dad person ever before she got sick. The feeling of abandonment threatens to loom over her, even though she knows it's not her mom's fault- and silently prays that her mom gets better.

On top of these feelings, she also recalls her own mortality looks to her babies, and fights off the fear of the thought of leaving them behind tragically and suddenly. She tries to shake it off, but she's tired. The youngest baby is teething so he's been crying endlessly for what feels like all eternity. A baby waking up from a toothache was a violently startling thing.

She's exhausted as she tries to focus on what to do next, feeling paralyzed by the weight of responsibility she bears. That is when he walks into the kitchen and sees her.

Though she manages to smile at him, he can see right through it. The woman before him was easy for him to see into, no matter how well she held herself together. He always knew when she was drowning on the inside. And that is always when he comes to her and wraps his strong arms around her, and pulls her close. Her body is tense against his, the pent-up feelings she keeps to herself locking up her limbs stiffly.

When their bodies touch, his heat and strength seep into her and force her tired body to relax. His strong confident hand is gently rubbing the tension from her upper back while his other arm holds her tightly. Her head falls to his shoulder and she inhales the smell of his soft beard that tickles her nose, and the scent causes peace to fill her slowly. Eventually, after a while like this, she notices she can feel his heartbeat against her chest when before it had been only her own pounding heart banging violently within her that she noticed.

For as long as she needs him to hold her together while she bears her feelings and accepts them, he will stay with her, his arms locked around her in the most gentle vice a human could experience. In this moment she is safe, and it is okay to let the storm of her emotions take her. In this small space within his arms, she allows the winds of worry and the rains of grief and exhaustion to buffet her soul, and ravage her composure. And all the while, he will hold her silently, allowing her to be safe in his space, where he can protect her while she just lets herself feel.

When she is ready, she lifts her head, and places a grateful kiss on his lips, feeling more at peace, knowing that no matter the storm, she is not weathering it alone. At all times he is her companion in the storm. She smiles, he uses his thumb to wipe away a straggling tear, kisses her once more, and watches carefully as she turns to make dinner and offers help as needed, whether it be storm or pasta.