For Women With Wings
The great British scholar and novelist, C. S. Lewis, said of grief:
"No one ever told me grief felt so like fear." (end quote)
For some women, grief is the simple act of looking in the mirror and realizing the dreaming girl is gone. In her place stands a mature woman whose eyes look like her father's when he grew too old to dream. Or like her mother's when she found herself alone.
What do we say to that woman in the mirror? Does she know fear tastes like envy? Does she know grief mirrors fear? The fear of being forgotten. The fear of being invisible. The fear of growing too old to dream.
Does the caterpillar grieve as it weaves its cocoon?
The ceaseless fingerprints of time weave a cocoon around some women from which they never emerge. Encased in resignation, they wither away, abandoning the dreaming girl they used to be. Grief anchors these women to solid ground when they should be growing wings, reaching for stars, blazing new trails.
For other women, the pupa stage of change, this resilient surge of growth with its accompanying wrinkles and lines and typical little sags, defines a life well lived, a road well traveled, and celebrates other roads, other gallexies yet to be discovered.
Sister, look at the woman in the mirror. Tell her she is beautiful. Tell her stars are never too high to hold the wishes of a dreaming woman. Tell her she has earned her wings.
Tell that woman in the mirror to peel off her cocoon and be radiant.
She is at last a butterfly.
© 2008 Lynn Carney, http://lynncarney.com
Excerpt from Cozy Cabin Journal - See it online now:
http://lynncarney.blogspot.com - Lynn Carney's Blog