Imagine your life like a stained glass window. You have things that center the image – for me, it was Jason and my family. There are other things that make up the image – pets, hobbies, work, friends, passions. There are probably parts that are less pretty, too, because we all have them. The whole thing sits inside a frame. That frame emcompasses your life, but there are spaces filled with plain glass, places that have yet to be explored and discovered. It is a thing of beauty.
On April 30th, my stained glass shattered. It shattered from the center out, like a gunshot. As the center dissolved into dust, the rest of the pieces fell and broke into shards until even the frame is warped beyond recognition.
Now, I have to pick up each one of those shards. They are sharp. I’m trying to fit the broken shards back into a picture, but the center is gone and the frame is twisted out of recognition. I still have to pick up each of the pieces and put it someplace and try to rebuild. I don’t get to not do this work, but it is slow, painful work.