Reece is running around getting ready for school this morning, eating his cereal while I get my medicine and coffee prepped, having no idea where his Mommy’s heavy heart is struggling. How big her headache is. How vulnerable she feels.
He starts singing this over his Cheerios;
“Oh, my soul
You are not alone
There’s a place where fear has to face the God you know
One more day, He will make a way
Let Him show you how, you can lay this down
‘Cause you’re not alone”
Oh, my Soul, you are not alone...
I am a Harrington. The Cool Granddaughter of an amazing, ferocious, survived decades of an alcoholics rage and abuse, red headed speaker of truth. A witty loud mouth. I have her brain. Her intellect. And I can feel her zooming all around me with her ever constant guard and strength right now. Just sobbed out the sob I needed to let go yesterday and kept choking back in.
Oh, my soul, you are not alone...
I’m the great great great niece of my Uncle Jule.... who, even though he himself was living on the streets, felt so much love and charity, that he gave his nephew, my daddy, $20 he needed to feed his own body, as an I love you and I like you to wish him well in his spiritual quest to North Carolina.
Oh, my soul, you are not alone....
I know I must stand in the hurt. Twist uncomfortably in the exposure. I know I must stand for my words and this book as clearly as I knew I must stand for my son 13 years ago, born into this world in an emergency surgery, and his first cries mixed with his struggle to breathe.
I know, I am not alone...
I am a Harrington.
(And Harringtons rock. ~KST)