Sunday benediction – the damn I give for you.

I have a mental list of folks I think of during the day and pray for in the mornings (post-coffee, although isn’t everything that gets done in the morning post-coffee?). This morning, every time I pull up my list I feel weepy and tender, like it’s me who needs a hug.

Maybe I needs a hug.

So Ben walks in with the Sunday papers and I schlep up to him to get a hug, he asks if I just got up, but I’ve been up for ages. This morning I can’t break my fog, the just-kicked feeling in my heart, and yet, I’m okay. Nothing’s wrong. It’s all good. Maybe I just need some eggs. Or maybe it’s you.

Hon, maybe it’s you.

Maybe what I’m feeling is the shit nobody gives for you, and I’m giving it? If so, I can do that. I can give a shit for you, a dang for you, instead of the one who matters to you who isn’t giving it. I can do that.

Babe, that would make my morning. I care. For you. I’m going to walk around the rest of the morning thinking of you, reading this, and feeling like nobody gives a shit, about you, about what you’re up against, about the battles you fought, the mountains you climbed. I do.

I know I’m not there. I know you don’t know me. But in this moment, if I close my eyes I can feel those feelings you’re having, because I’ve had them. I know them. The feeling of having cried your eyes out curled up in a fetal position, knowing nobody is coming, nobody noticed. That feeling of having been totally fucking heroic and realising nobody saw you do it, nobody’s world was rocked, nobody clapped or smiled or cared. I know. The greatest things we ever did were done lying on our backs in the dark fighting battles in our head, and writing on the wall of our soul, “I will not come back this way again. I will not come here again. NO MORE.” And it changed everything, didn’t it? But there was no fanfare, no testimony. No congratulations and no promotions. But you and I both know, don’t we, those anonymous moments of colossal shift are the biggest and best of us. They were the victories. And nobody knew. Nobody saw. Nobody cheered.

This morning, in a moment, I’m going to make myself eggs. But before I do, can I do this. Here is me standing back and giving you the slow clap. I know what you did. I know what it took for you to do it. And I believe you. I believe in you. I know you have decided to only go forward now, whatever it takes, and I’m proud of you. You’re not alone. Fear is a liar. Your tribe is out here, baby, and we are cheering you on. I am cheering you on. Well done. Just, well done.

Love you lots,
Jo xx

You've heard my thoughts, now throw me yours...