Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on support.
It actually means to bear the weight of something, to hold it up and enable it to function.
That's the actual definition of the word.
And that's our role, this entire time with you.
That's why the weight of family is so heavy because we are bearing your weight, we are holding you up.
We are your support.
It starts from day one, we can feel how heavy something, someone, so small is.
We felt it when you were pressed up against us, kicking your way into the world.
We felt it when you were here, and you would lay on our chest.
We felt it when we fed you, realizing how delicate you were, but at the same time, full of force.
We felt it with each milestone you had, the ones that made you more independent but still caused us work.
We felt it when you would propel forward, and we had to follow.
We are your support, here to bear your weight and hold you up.
We are your foundation, your rock.
We are your home-base.
Which is why, we too need support, now more than ever.
Because while we hold you up, we too need others to lean on.
We need comfort and someone that enables us to function.
We need support too.
Because we feel weighted down when we don't.
We no longer feel graceful, instead, we feel the heavy pressed on our chest.
Unable to breathe, unable to think, unable to function.
We need people who love and accept and propel us too.
We need comfort and the ability to unleash our crazy and someone that gets us.
We are always and will always be there for you.
We will keep you upright, we will ground you to rise.
And we thank and love our support systems for their comfort, their calm, their ability to carry us.