Have been visiting the very Dear Lovelies in the bush this weekend, the rains came down, there was much puddle diving and admiring of view and heavy skies, and talking and eating good food as well as exhaustion and a fired up little guy and a bad cough and a head full of thoughts... clouds of vulnerability have been gathering over my head lately and the storm broke loose when I went to retire to our 'bootiful little cottage" to find my little guy screaming for me at the door with a puddle of wee at his feet "I didn't know where you were mama". I don't know how long he had been standing there like that because it had been a while since I'd come from the other side of the house to peek a look at him. I felt so terrible and even though he is remains unscathed, it was just enough distress to bring up a well of emotion in me, ranging from guilt to my own childhood fears to missing K, to the need the next morning to flee straight back to the warmth of the cave wherein I can gather the bearings of my psyche and have a damn good cry. A damn good cry here and there is the best tension release i can imagine.
Luckily we were in the company of seasoned criers with enormous hearts. I'm glad I followed the urge to come home. Beau and I made muffins (another part of my own personal therapy) and went for a really nice walk with Flash the Dog, picking flowers, laughing, running, observing the minimal activity of an overcast Sunday in the Suburbs, and with Beau cooing every 5 minutes "I LOVE Flash".
