Bleak Midwinter.

Is it spring yet? I desperately hope it is, but as I look out my window all I see is ice and snow. March has come in like a lion…with winds and cold and power losses. We were not afflicted by loss of electrical power but personally, I’ve felt my energy sapped. I am in need of a personal generator.

This time of year also coincides with the busiest part of my professional life. Travel, meetings, educational seminars…there are endless demands. And in some moment of insanity or brilliance (call it what you may), I decided taking a graduate course would be good for the soul this semester.

So tonight I find myself floundering about, miring in the quicksand that is my life. That giant sucking feeling that I’m about to go under and not come up again. Wrestling with the injustices that I have wrought upon others, either consciously or not. Being thankful for the small graces that have saved my *** yet again.

And in all this despair and irritation, a soft little hand reaches out..no, two hands; no, four. They caress my cheek and pat my back. Voices speak and say: I love you, Moma. The phone rings and the voice of a man speaks to me. The voice of a man, who is still my child. And at the end of the conversation, he says: I love you, Mom.

I have found my personal generators. Andrew. Greta. Ani. Eli.