Life is a series of ups and downs, hard days and easier ones, and not a one of us are spared pain and tragedy. Some tragedies however, are life altering. When they hit, they take away not only our breath, but our sense of self. It is with those moments that we are given the opportunity to rebuild and redefine or to withdraw and lay victim. Neither way is an easy way out, as the human mind and heart are fragile. But in rebuilding, we create a journey of giving back that is simply magnificent.
Here’s to those who at one time, found themselves broken.
You were whole…
Despite the scars, despite the hard days’ work, despite an imperfectly perfect life…you felt safe. You felt whole. A hardened shell, cushioned by a life going right, at the day’s end, your body sank into the bed and the quiet calm of the night soothed you. Comfortable and relaxed, you pulled the covers under your chin and breathing out, you sank further into the softness that surrounded you. Life was predictably unpredictable… and you, an imperfect porcelain doll, scuffed and tattered, but intact and beautiful in your well-loved way.
All was well. All was still.
And then, from out the darkness, with no sound, no preemptive warning, an unspeakable, crushing blow leapt from out the shadows, striking you… and you felt yourself break into a million pieces.
Disoriented at first…and confused. One plastic eye hanging loose from its socket, staring at the floor in disbelief. There is shit everywhere and you’re standing in the middle of it.
Braving a glance in the mirror, you look just in time to see another piece fall out of place. What you once were, is now a pile of debris scattered on the floor. And you no longer know your name.
A faceless, nameless tragedy….time and space stand still. You are numb.
Simultaneously, pain and reality soak in. Like a laboring woman, reflexively, you rock. The pain in your soul is too much to bear and you feel yourself crumbling further, from the inside out. Surely, it is your heart disintegrating under the pressure.
And then finally, in the whirlwind that is your life, the racing circles of rational thought, feeling and physics unite and your tears are accompanied by heaving sobs. Your chest aches and you starve for air as much as you starve for reprieve. You beg the universe for a different truth. Bargaining, you’d give anything to have been spared this blow. The pillow that once brought you peaceful slumber, now stifles your wails.
Bouncing between horror and emptiness, in one moment your heart races with panic and dread…and in the next, there is an absence of thought and emotion. You awaken to find yourself staring into space… gone from reality… gone from your body. Unable to speak, unable to move, your only task is to fill and then empty your lungs.
Everything that was before, it seems, has been destroyed. Trust, faith, safety and security, like life-long comrades, lie lifeless amongst the list of causalities. Robbed of your former happiness and ease, you are broken. And the life you once knew, is gone.
Two bare legs, thin and pale, dangle off the bed where you sit- speechless and motionless. As the sobs slow and your breathing again regains some sort of rhythm, you gather your energy and your courage. Easing yourself off the edge of the bed, you crouch to the floor. Slowly and intentionally, you begin to pick up the pieces. Gathering them in your bleeding hands, you are sure you will never be whole again.
Alone in your space, depleted simply by standing and holding what your life once was close to your heart… hands trembling, in a weak and cracking voice, you use the slightest wisp of energy to call out for “Help.”
Expecting your voice to merely echo into the darkness, you are surprised when the doorway fills with light.
Silently and floatingly from the other side, angels move in. One by one, carefully selecting piece-by-piece out of your hands, tenderly, they fill each broken space. With their words and their hearts, gluing each piece back. “Tell me I will be whole again” you cry, as silently, they work. As they mend and you surrender, you begin to see your form take shape again. Knowing that you could not rebuild alone, you revel in their aid. Still you resolve, you will never again be the same.
Time passes and still you gasp for words. Exhausted and aching from every joint, you glance once again into the mirror. Relieved to see the pieces of your life put back into place, you can’t ignore your blessings… but neither can you ignore the fracture lines that remain. Whole again, and yet, still so shattered… your voice quivers when you try to speak, so broken you hardly believe where it’s coming from.
Night falls and anxiety erupts, sabotaging the safety you once felt. Your bed is no longer a safety nest and your room, no longer a sanctuary. You breathe and you imagine and you pray, begging to feel the wholeness the rest of the world sees in you, the wholeness you once felt.
Angel voices whisper in your ears and silently, you respond to the figure in your reflection. “You are strong.” “You are brave.” “You are resilient.” And from the light of the angels, a sliver of hope pierces your heart, “goodness can come from tragedy.” Believing those words, you long for the day that you will regain your voice and your strength. You know you are a survivor and your story will one day be told.
Today you will rest, tomorrow you will crawl… and one day, with grit and knowledge and the pain-staking work of healing, you will fly.
For the broken doll, will one day become the angel- called upon in another’s darkest hour, to minister and mend another broken soul. Your light will fill her doorway when she gains the courage to call for help. And when you reach to pick up her broken pieces, she will see on your hands, the fracture lines…and in your eyes and soul, your strength and undying love.
Saviors often wear the deepest scars. Scars are always tougher than uninjured tissue. It takes grace and hard work, not to yield to bitterness and anger. Compassion, wisdom and empathy can be the byproducts of trauma, if instead of shutting the world out, you call for help and accept it… if you work to heal, instead of pushing the pain away.
To every doll standing in the mirror, seeing their missing pieces… broken as you may feel today… if you take the time and do the work, you will one day heal and grow wings.
And to all of the angels, who have at one time or another, answered one’s frail call for help, may you forever know that your pain created a strength that carried them. And the glue that is your love, is ever-lasting.
Perhaps, life is just a series of breaks and mends… some days we are the doll… and if we do it right… some days, we get to be the angel.
