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There is beauty, you know

There is beauty in the world. How come so many can not see that?

There is beauty in the way my depressed mother tries; how her shaky hands reach out to me and my sister and my dad to comfort us.
There is beauty in her tears as they show she has not given up; she still feels something,  even if every tear she sheds seems to fall directly on my aching heart.
There is beauty in my dad’ s softness with her, repeating “It’s gonna be fine, you know” all over without his voice breaking most of the time- and when it does break and he sobs, too, it is so raw and honest, there is beauty there, too.
There is also beauty in our gathered strength, to organise, to deal with the next step, to micromanage by filling out forms and formal requests and insurance stuff, to wait in the helpline, to get a hug while doing so.
There is beauty in the freedom given to us by employers, to be able to deal with what needs to be done instead of what would be my job.
There is beauty in the message of colleagues that missed me.
And there is beauty in a “thank you” of a student I helped out last week; I had totally forgotten about her but read her thank-you note today. Usually, she is one to deliver rage not roses, so it felt special.
There is beauty in the kindness of strangers on the phone, doctors, nurses, caregivers.
There is beauty in our shared tears over a fate that no one chose yet is accepted without casting blame.
There is beauty in the words of my friends letting me know they are there, one way or the other.
There  is beauty in knowing I can actually come back to that offer, with some of them.
There is beauty in the way my fiancée accepts my absence and deals with our cat that now needs an operation -in my absence, in this mess- and somehow it is no drama, just life, and we do what needs to be done affectionately and lovingly.
There is also beauty in the way he worries, about our cat, about me, about my family, and gives me strength at the same time.
Isn’t it also beautiful how much you can grow standing in the center of a storm, once you realize  that there is still hope, you know, you can feel it.

So there is beauty. Thanks for making me see.

Author: carasmelody

daydreamer, hopelessly hopeful, I love the power of words, I love poems, words are soulfood

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