Wakened by Sadness, Breathing for Joy

It sat on my chest like a ton of bricks. I tried to inhale, but the heaviness made it impossible. Gasping desperately for life giving air, I clawed my way out of sleep. As I opened my eyes and sucked in oxygen, pain shot through my lungs and into my heart. Piercing, agonizing, excruciating... I wondered how long I had gone without air. How long, in my unconsciousness, had I failed to take a breath...because of the heaviness.

I looked at the clock. Three a.m. I knew sleep would not come again this night. Now that the physical pain had wakened me, the sadness that caused it overwhelmed me. It was not bricks on my chest that made it impossible to breathe and sleep, it was sadness.  Once again I am conscious of it. I recognize it as the constant companion that has refused to leave me for weeks on end. And I wonder if I'll have to live with it forever.

I've felt this before...this grief induced sadness. I've survived it, twice. But I'm older now, less resilient, less durable and yes, less spirited. The gradual accumulative effect of years of loss and pain are taking their toll. It's tempting to close my eyes and let the sadness settle in until breathing comes no more.

Then I see them through my tears...pure joy emanates from them. I hear their laughter as it fills the air around me, and I hear their calls. "Gramma! Look at us!" And I know if I stop breathing, if I allow the sadness to overwhelm me, it will cause their little hearts to grieve as mine does today. And I know I cannot do that to them. As long as I have the ability, I must find the strength to inhale, no matter how much it hurts me. I must do it...for them. But first, I'll let the tears come to wash away the sadness, because, as Irving wrote, they are messengers of unspeakable love.

There is a sacredness in tears.
They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.
They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues.
They are messengers of overwhelming grief ...
and unspeakable love.
- Washington Irving