His face is a blur, body bobbing up and down at lightning speed, shoulders rising slightly and pulling his muscular torso forward with each hop, willing his body higher. Surely his feet are attached to motorized slinkys. As the credits roll, the “juddering” drum phrase is center stage in Hans Zimmer’s Dune score, layered with a cacophony of otherworldly voices, war horns and repetitive musical motifs. Jonathan is transfixed. All in.
It’s what we Moms do. Fix things. Band-aids on skinned knees. An embrace to sooth a tearful child. Comfort food to welcome and cheer. Their trusting faces say “Mommy, you can fix anything.” We believe it, until we don’t. Until we can’t. Can’t fix it.
Read MoreREGRETS AND REDEMPTION Recently, a medication side-effect drove me into a pit that was new territory for me. Sure, I’ve been down before, but this-- being pressed down into an alternate reality that defied reason, blotted out joy, deferred hope-- this….
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