One of my favorites is "I don't know how you do it?" well I am going to let you in on a little secret, neither do I. What I can tell you is I am not super man... or woman.. as this case may be. (I am not all that fond of Wonder Woman.. she is rather girlie if you ask me so I would really like it if Super Girl would just go ahead and grow up already so that my reference to Super Woman makes sense) The day the kids died I didn't gain any super powers to get me through this. I didn't wake up in March of 2010 with some kind of heart of steel that wouldn't break. In April of 2013 powers to not feel the pain were not granted to me. I am not as strong as you think just because I keep going.
I do appreciate your words, I really do. At times I feel pride in knowing that I am doing this in a way that make others see I am doing, that I have not crumbed at the loss of my child as if it were kryptonite. At other times I just want to sit down and cry when they say it because I am so tired on the inside. Just so ready for the strength they think I have to rain down on me in waves and pick me up off of the ground.
Funny thing about the heart, it keeps right on beating regardless of how incredibly broken it is. I suppose if anything that is the super power that all parents who have lost a child have been given, if you can consider it that, sometimes I consider it a curse. Our hearts are in a million pieces yet continue to function as designed keeping our bodies going one beat at a time, even when we beg it to just stop. Our minds no matter how muddled still tell our lungs to breathe in and out, our tummies we need food, our feet to move, our bodies to wake up all out of instinct. We are no stronger than you, look closely we are on autopilot.
The next time you think about telling me I am strong.. do me a favor.. look in my eyes, really look at my smile, really see that the strong isn't as strong as you think.. and give me a hug instead.
Because I am really not Super Woman.