Fractures of our hearts

How do you do it?
I'm asking you mothers. The ones who have babies, and children, and husbands, and pets...People you care for. Animals you care about. How do you?

You have dinners to make, clothes to fold, children to soothe at night and sometimes it's in the middle of the night. Nights of disrupted sleep where you can't sleep, or they can't sleep, or someone can't sleep, and you're up doing the things that mothers do. Being present with those strong and capable laps that holds and unfolds every single care in the world and files them in folders marked:

"Times when mom was a superhero."
Or
"Times when mom said the right thing"
Or
"Times when mom listened and didn't talk"
Or
"Times when mom just held me."

 This deep commitment alone should win awards.

There should be awards given to those parents who mend chubby toddler knees, toes from bee stings, damaged feelings from toys not shared, or when friends words come out too honest. Far too many times, these little essential things are over looked, but they shape our lives. They matter deep inside the innermost fractures of our hearts.
Our parents nurture us. They accept us broken and whole at the same time.

I don't know how you do it. How you care so deep and still exist in other forms to other people. How you exist outside of all that you do inside the four walls of a home.
Where does this energy come from?
I thought hard about this recently, and I mean hard. I recall all those times I pined for my life to be a certain way, and now I know.
In my nursing class there are many parents.

Lets be realistic here, I feel as if my time is so limited that I am ready to give parent of the year awards to those people who are in my class (or are in any college atmosphere for that matter) and still are able to be actively present in their families lives.

I'm almost invisible to mine. I have books upon books open every day, papers strewn everywhere, and I'm typing, or reading, or highlighting, or scattering, and organizing messes. There's hellos and goodbyes, and I'm off to study.

I find time when I can to reach out to people I love and care for, but it's few and far between.
The kind of commitment raising children implores would be entirely unimaginable to me in my current circumstances.

I pray to God on the way to school, and on the way home from school, thankful. He knew what he was doing with me when He made me wait for things I previously prayed so much for. I pray for those people who have the same school commitments and families at home too.  I've become thankful for my near 40 minute commute to school everyday, because it gives me time to be thankful and prayerful.

Here's the weekly glimpse into my life:

Love,

Amber

Dear coffee,

I'd like to thank you officially and formally for seeing me through awkward meetings, and of course, the less awkward, down-to-earth moments of life as well.

You never judge me if It's 11 am, and I am only barley gracing the world with my presence. You never mind my primal grunts that form before more intelligent language can construct itself inside my brain, because I can never truly wake up unless I've consumed at least one cup of your delicious, smooth, and aromatic brew.

Even if you're of the decaf kind, the effect is the same. The warmth of the cup I'm holding is enough to do the trick.

To others, it might seem like I am awake, but in reality, I really am not. I can't be held accountable for not recalling conversations that have transpired before said coffee has been consumed. Sorry guys.

Thank you also for your flexibility in being served cold in the summer and warm all year round. You really are great in every season.

Thank you for the early church mornings, (awkward) blind dates, where I usually call my sister right before hand to make sure she knows where I am going, and to also have her encourage me a little, and of course the many game nights with friends, family, and strangers that through sips of coffee, became friends. 

You've been a faithful friend, coffee. 

Many thanks,

Yours truly, 

a faithful coffee drinker,

Amber