Hope Springs

Music has a way of feeding my tired parched soul and reminding me of what's important in life.

A few minutes ago, as I listened to some old songs, 2 miracles happened.

Miracle #1: Falling in love with my husband all over again.

I've been going through so much lately that I've long lost my focus and forgot what really matters. I couldn't see through the cloud of despair hanging over me. Deep within me I've been running scared and was afraid to even hope that this difficult chapter in life will ever come to an end. And rather unfortunately and very much unfairly I've been taking most of my frustration out on the one person who understood and loved me the most, my husband. Our relationship, like all relationships, need a lot of work but because of all the problems that's been testing our strength ours have been falling to pieces little by little for some time now. And no matter what front I put up before other people the truth was that I had given up. But for all his faults, Mark has always been consistent in one thing -- his desire to make things work out between us. He's been wooing me and trying to make me see the positive side of life, wanting me to believe in myself, in us and in life again. And though he tried I kept on vacillating between being too down, too scared and too stubborn to listen to him. This morning, as I listened to an old song I used to like but never really related too, I finally heard what Mark has been trying to say. Even more importantly I finally felt ready to believe that we should and could make it work, not just for Sam but because we do love each other. And as corny as it may seem, love is really the one thing that matters.

The song that spoke to me.

Miracle #2: I felt like dancing the way I used to.

Its been such a long time since I felt like dancing just because I felt happy. A few months back I remember dancing in the shop but it was more because I was feeling a little crazy and idiotic. But to dance because I felt carefree is a thing of the past for me, I've let myself grow old and it shriveled up the part of me I loved -- the part that sees the world with rose colored glasses and loves all mankind, that part that rarely gets to peek out, the part that I miss so much. Right now its five thirty in the morning, usually an ungodly hour for me. I'm in the hospital taking care of my sick little Sam and hearing Mark snore on the other bed but everything is alright. I am not tired. I am not sleepy. I am not sad. For the first time since I can't remember when I feel like dancing again. I feel that for a few minutes at least I found myself again, unstained and whole. I found the child in me.

Music that I can't wait to dance to with Sam when he grows up. I hope that one of the things I'll be able to give to my child is the joy of dancing with oneself.

**blogged using a cellphone, an index card and a pencil borrowed from the nurses' station