My family

It is late, very late at night. Infact, it would be more appropriate to call it very early hours of the next morning. It is pitch dark outside. No stars and a small, tiny sliver of the moon is reflecting just about sufficient light to be just seen. No more. It illuminates itself. It does not light up the dark night. The air is cold and thick. Like a blanket that may be held in your hands. It requires only that we rise to the next level of consciousness.

Everyone around me is sleeping. And watching my family in this room- all of us together, is something I would not trade for anything else in the world. Call me old fashioned- but here I am. Watching. Contented. Somewhat pained but mostly at peace.

We all have our moments of love- and of despair. Of peace- and of war. However, each moment passes into the next. And into eternity. We come into this world alone. We will depart alone. We know not where we came from. We know not where we will go henceforth. We do know that we fill the interim between the so called birth and death with love and hate, friendships and enmities, peace and war, and with relationships. Most of all- relationships.

It is only in reference to our world and those around us that we express our emotions.

We are what we are. However, we manifest a persona that interacts and emotes. The real us is deep within and we keep looking without. Yet the superficial manifest self consumes us passionately.

Tonight watching my husband in deep sleep, while I sit awake, reading and writing, I catch my thoughts mid stream.

I love this man.

One foot just peeping out from the edge of the blanket appears strangely beautiful. I do not want him to give me love, or time, or money even. I donot want him to feel limited by my presence in his life. I only want him by my side.

I only want him by my side.

I can deak with anything. I can play any hand dealt to me. But I want only that this man I call my husband be beside me.

My sleeping children only serve to strengthen my resolve.

I am not a saint nor a sage. Only a normal human being. I have my moments of turmoil and of attachment. I want to be attached. I an not ready to look at the world God has put around me with detachment.

I want my children to grow up into fine human beings. I want to be able to impart to them the wisdom to discriminate between good and bad and to be able to hold on to what is vital to the fabric of life. Being who they are, they will learn anyway. But I want to be the one playing this role in their lives. God gave me the role- it is my duty to make sure I do this well.

No sacrifice is big enough for this role. For this duty. For this life.

Infact, nothing can be called a sacrifice when compared to this value system and belief in life's sacred thread.

And yet, there are moments when I begin to doubt myself... when I ask myself whether I am doing the right thing? Whether I have so far been doing the right thing? Why do I sometimes feel so helpless, angry and alone? Why must I carry all the burden alone? And then... I withdraw from the scene and watch myself. Objectively. Then, I tell myself, I'm OK. It will only get better and better. It has to!