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6. One moon (or Five angels)

Soleia 0.31

We are exhausted.  You won't sleep in a crib.  That would be too easy.  If you aren't in someone's arms, you won't go under.  If you are leaving someone's arms,  you won't stay under.

We went for a walk and it didn't seem to be improving our moods. We were coming home, resolved to the fact that there would be no happy ending to this little journey.  It was there, just a little ways from the house that we saw two women coming in our direction, both of them pushing strollers.

Two Afro-Canadian women, women far younger than us.  In the strollers were two beautiful little girls, friends no doubt by virtue of the friendship between these two young mothers.  

They asked us how we were and your mother was as she always was: honest, to a fault.  She spoke candidly about our travails and was rejuvenated by the cameraderie; the shared struggle.  The mothers told us of things that we'd seen, things that we'd seen and misunderstood, things that we were yet to see.  But even though they said it in words it was their cheer and generosity more than anything which drove home what they were saying and for that moment made us believe what we were then having doubts about: that it would get better.  That this wasn't something we had to get used to - it was something that we had to overcome.

It is hard, said one of the mothers.  But not so hard that she wasn't having another.  She rubbed her belly proudly, comforted by the new life growing again inside of her.  We gave our thanks and said our goodbyes, walking in opposite directions, our spirits buoyed.  I turned back to look at those five angels that visited us when we had needed it most.  And I wondered if there would ever be a moment when my wife and I might serve similarly as angels to someone who faced these challenges for the first time as we do.

I know we'll answer the call.

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