Loving fiercely, but not fearlessly

I no longer know how to love gently. The only love I know is fierce. Visceral. I love fiercely, but fearfully, not fearlessly; because it’s driven by fear.

I have come so close to losing my baby girl that I have a tendency to hold too tight to those I love. My children, my family, my friends, my partner.

My love is unyielding support and loyalty. It’s utter dedication and surrender. It’s all in. All consuming. Intense.

We face life and death situations weekly, if not daily. And we never know when they will occur.

So, I live every day acutely aware of the risk of losing my sweet girl. That hyper awareness of the fragility of life makes me fear losing anyone I love.

My hugs are too tight and too long. The words spill over, bubble out. I do too much. I care too much. I ask for too much. I am too much.

Haley may have epilepsy, but we all live with effects of it. For me that translates to a hyper awareness of time as our most valuable commodity and a commitment to grasping the most out of every moment.