Someone To Watch Over Me

Second time this year I’ve had a clear vision in my head but not the visual artistic talent to get it out, and have been unable to find a picture online that’s even a close enough.

So today’s existential crisis that should be summed up in one picture but will take hundreds of words instead:

I keep a protective eye out. I watch over those who need protection, or need comfort but I’m the wrong person to provide it, or just need to rest. I am the Mom. I am your Mom when she isn’t here and you need her. I advocate for you when you can’t for yourself. I search for your Mom when you are lost or stuck on top of the monkey bars. I block the lane in the freeway with my car so yours doesn’t get hit (again). I sit by you and chat supportively as you process your emotions while waiting for your spouse or other family to come rescue you. I gently reach out so you aren’t scared as I lift you up or down from your place of hurt or fear. I keep watch over the home, occasionally checking on you from the doorway while you are sick and quietly making things more condusive to you getting well. I enjoy this role.

Today I realized I do not have a place to go to take my rest under watchful eye. I can not go to my Mom’s house, crawl into a bed, and sleep knowing I am safe because she is there. I can go crawl into my own bed, but I do not have a partner to be there while I rest to watch over the homestead and myself. I have good friends (great friends!), good family (loving family!), wonderful children, a safe warm home… and no one, or place to go, to watch over me as I rest after I have spent all my-ness watching over others.

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