Sometimes I ache.
When I see any kind of stage performance, I ache to be up there. I miss singing my heart out under bright lights and the electric feeling of being on stage.
Sometimes I ache terribly for my family, especially when I realize that, geographically, the nine of us are only bound to get further apart. And that the few-times-yearly visits to my parents' house will likely make up the rest of the memories I will ever have of my mother and father.
Many times I have ached for the man I would marry - the man who now lights up my life with his grin and his schemes (both equally irresistible).
I almost hesitate to write it, but I know I ache for my dead brother. Even though we never met in this life, my heart misses him.
Most of the time, like tonight, I ache to create - to give form or freedom to the heaviness in my heart that yearns to leave a tangible legacy.
And tears spring to my eyes as I realize that he's 11 months old and sleeping in the next room.
12 comments:
On a sweetness scale of 1-10 that is like a "face melting off"
Isn't Matt 20-something?
That definitely should've been in a novel or something. Matt pretty much IS irresistible...
Yeah, what about Matt? This is face-melting-off offensive to him. I guess it's not quite the same kind of creating and molding, though.
And for the past eleven months, I know something else you've been aching for...
me!!!
You make adorable children, that is fo' sho'. Gorgeous post, girl.
Am I too numb or too busy to ache properly? Why can't have profound feelings like you, Brittany?
so sensitive and honest. props for recognizing such a mysterious emotion. I can't believe your "baby" is that old already!
I've been missing my grandma a lot lately - I've been trying to figure out how to put it into words and kinda gave up, but you've re-inspired me to try again!
Okay. This post was lovely.
And, just an interesting note:
A few days ago I was thinking about your family, and about Michael. The thought came to me that you (I didn't think of any of the other kids at that moment) would miss him, and that it would be a sadness to you that he wasn't here.
Then I came on here this evening and saw your post.
Love you.
how many people do you know?
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