She’s living on an inflatable raft in the center of a storm.
The waves are crashing over her as she’s grasping onto whatever is left of the singular thing keeping her afloat. As she looks off into the distance, she spots a light shining through the eerie darkness of the clouds painted across the sky.
She’s found her heart.
Treading across the rough waters, gasping for air, she suddenly takes a breath at ease. The clouds lighten, and the darkness of the sky is now covered in the simplicity of pink and blue beautifully painted above her.
Her heart is good at this.
Her heart is good at rescuing her from whatever darkness the clouds create. She’s found a beacon of hope in the heart in which she rests her head during the longest nights and a feeling of safety in the one that holds her hand through the crowded rooms. She’s gained a sense of security within the serenity her heart has created in the mere hopes of overpowering the chaos she’s made her life out to be.
But above all, she’s found the little girl within her as the heart of the one who first gave her life becomes the heart of herself.
She’s found the one who would willingly take her tears and make them her own, the one who would pull her from the raft in a storm only to sit in it herself, and the one who would breathe in the struggles so she never has to. In the light the heart casts along the dark sky, she has found the one person that she is so proud to call her mom.
She has found her heart.
Although she never realized it before, it makes sense to her now that her heart is the one who created light in the times she most needed it.
It now makes sense that her heart is of the one who sang along to the mischief of the made-up words as the little girl danced shamelessly around the kitchen. It now makes sense that her heart beats perfectly like the one who happily cleans up her messes when she finds every excuse not to. It now makes sense for her heart to be of the one who has spent restless nights beside her as she feared the dreams behind her closed eyes.
The heart that lays behind the cage of her chest is not of herself but of the one who handed her life with open arms and the promise to always walk through it beside her.
She holds her mom close to her because her mom has been the one to keep her above the crashing waves for as long as she can remember. Her life is because of her mom. Because of the heart that once painted over the darkness of the sky with the simplicity of pink and blue shades. And without it, she would be living in a series of never-ending crashing waves.
