When I walked outside to see flurries circulating in the wind that March 2012 morning, it was hard to believe that just the day before I was getting sunburned, by a pool in Phoenix. The sun wasn’t up but the excitement of the adventure was enough to repel my non-morning person ways. We got into the chilly car and set out to the Grand Canyon.
As I watched out of the window, the sky began to lighten as sunrise neared. The fog and the flurries swirled in the trees. At first, this seemed really awesome… but upon arrival things went downhill. When we got out of the car, visibility was almost zero. In order to even see the direction signs to the edge of the Grand Canyon, you had to be right in front of them. I, as usual, was in a hurry to get to edge. Everyone else was poking around and I went ahead, too excited to be patient. The closer I got, the more my heart raced in my chest. I had always wanted to see the Grand Canyon! However, my excitement quickly turned sour as I got to the edge and there was NOTHING to see. I mean, look at this picture. All my life I had wanted to see this natural wonder of the world and here I was, standing on the edge of it and I couldn’t see ANYTHING.
Disappointment and bitterness rose up in me as I turned and walked away frustrated. The disappointment was compounded with the fact that I was there with my boyfriend at the time and it had become quite obvious during this trip that we weren’t going to be able to work things out between us. No matter how much you care about someone, sometimes it’s just not meant to be. With all of these thoughts spinning in my head, I trudged back to the car. It was so foggy that I passed my boyfriend on the way to the car as he was on his way to the canyon’s edge and we didn’t even see each other! I was almost back to the car when he called me, wondering where I was.
I said tearfully (and hangrily) “There’s nothing to see. It’s just fog. I just want some freaking breakfast.” He implored me to come back. Though I was feeling embittered and hungry, I turned around and walked back to the edge.
I arrived just in time. As the sun rose up over the Grand Canyon, within 30 seconds, the sun’s rays blasted the fog like lasers and the entire Grand Canyon unveiled itself to me all at once.
It is so hard for me to describe how I felt in that moment. Because, for a moment there was nothing. And then there was EVERYTHING. All. At. Once. It took my breath away. I felt like Nature punched me in the stomach. I sobbed like a grieving widow. Most people can see the Grand Canyon as they approach it but I got to have an incredibly unique experience. It was as if nature put on a show for me. I was standing there looking at a stage, the curtain was drawn, and there I was standing in front of one of the most beautiful, otherworldly spectacles on this planet. My brain short-circuited. My heart pounded in my chest. My eyes erupted with tears and I cried out everything I had within me. It was beautiful and exhausting. It was one of the most amazing things I have ever witnessed in my life and it will eternally be a special moment for me. (And I am also eternally thankful to that boyfriend for bringing me there and making me go back to the Canyon’s edge). I am not exaggerating when I say that it changed me. That day I watched the sun rise over the Grand Canyon and set over the Mojave Desert. It was a special day.
The feelings that I experienced that day are the closest comparison to how I feel when I look at my son sometimes. It’s incredible. It’s exhausting. It’s terrifying. To have so much emotion for another human being… I have never ever felt so vulnerable. When I hear him laugh…subflajsfbjkasdbfjadlb!!! If anything ever happened to him it would be indescribably devastating. He’s the most beautiful thing in the world to me and now that my heart has been transformed into a mama’s heart, I am that much more affected by the world around me. I look at all people differently now. I am suddenly aware that every person I meet has a mom who most likely loves/loved them as best as they could. My heart is softer. I love more deeply. I am forever changed.
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My youngest niece Ashlyn is exactly one year older than Jonah. Her nickname is Triple D: Death, Destruction, D… I’ll leave the last D to your imagination 🙂 She is HILARIOUS. She flings herself off of things, throws things across the room, bangs her head without a tear, crushes everything in her way and is afraid of nothing. Nothing is sacred. That is, until recently. I had heard about The Paper Owl but when I went and visited, I realized how serious the love affair really was. It was the first thing she showed me when I walked in the door and she carried it everywhere, very carefully and lovingly, with her. My sister-in-law had helped her make this very cute little delicate paper owl, assuming it would be destroyed within minutes just like everything else. Only that’s not at all what happened. My brother told me that one day, one of the wings fell off and she was devastated. They taped it back on for her and she continued along, restored, caring for the little Paper Owl. I was giggling to myself about this as I drove home from their house the other night. Little crazy Ashlyn caring so deeply for this delicate little owl. I realized I knew exactly how she felt.
I feel like I’m in charge of taking care for the Grand Canyon but I’m about as equipped as a 2 year old with a paper owl.
I read this quote at some point and it rings so very true. “Making the decision to have a child – it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. ”
― Elizabeth Stone
That’s EXACTLY what it feels like. Not everyone is meant to be be a mom/parent or wants to be a mom/parent and that’s perfectly fine. I honestly thought that’d be me too. But, having Jonah is the best decision I have ever made. Even if I feel like a two year old caring for a paper owl.
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