Two years ago I remember a day when I was driving..... I think that I was always driving at that time in my life, different kids in different schools, medical appointments where my little girl would stare at the needle entering her arm and not make one single sound. Speech therapy, occupational therapy, physical therapy. All I did was drive and cry. Our house was tiny. The neighborhood was dangerous. We were living paycheck to paycheck. I hated my job. I never saw my husband. I had no support.
Everything in my world seem to be intent upon crushing me and my family. My heart was constantly full of stress and fear. I felt as though there was a huge snowy mountain hovering over our little lives and any loud noise would cause an avalanche that would crush us all. I felt that I wasn't strong enough to stop this from happening. I wasn't brave or smart or daring enough to rescue us from the inevitability of this catastrophe. I felt trapped.
It was Christmas time, and this song came on the radio. I had heard it before... I didn't even LIKE it, but on this day I really, really heard it for the first time. I can see the road that I was on in my mind. I had a car full of cooped up, grouchy kids, who longed to play but seemed to be between school, appointments and minivan all day. What I felt, was hopeless. I listened to this song and knew that it was my truth.
Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on.....
I wish I had a river so long,
I would teach my feet to fly.
Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on.
I wish I had a river so long,
I would teach my feet to fly.
Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on.
But there I was, stuck. I was stuck because I hadn't made the decision to find my river. Sometimes being stuck is easy. Sometimes skating away into uncertainty is the scariest thing you can think of. Sometimes it's hard to break staticity when you DO have so many happy memories attached to the place where you are stuck. Sometimes, even though the familiar things can just break your heart into smithereens... they feel safe. That is where I was.
This song played over and over during Christmas on the radio and at first I cried when I heard it, but then I stopped. I felt a fire growing in my stomach. I realized that I was not a rock. I was a volatile force, a fierce adventurer. I was full of power and capability. Or maybe I wasn't, not quite yet, but I could be. I could change my course. I could skate away holding hands big and a little, and we could bring each other to safety.
I found my river. It's a real river, and it led us all to a new beginning. I drive over it every day on the way to work and thank it for taking us to this place where we are so very happy, where we are free and safe. My river brought me home, and it isn't always perfect, but it is RIGHT, and this melancholy Christmas song means something different now. It reminds me of the power that we all have to find our own rivers, that running away is sometimes the strongest thing to do..... and that skating away doesn't mean you are giving up if you know where you are capable of going.
