Thursday, May 15, 2008

Tomorrow I Will Fly

Last night I was awake until 3 a.m. Nothing seemed to help me relax enough to sleep. I read the few letters I wrote to Sage during the 9 months of his life. It was such a whirlwind of a year. So much change. I remember trying consciously to enjoy and appreciate each step of his development, each moment I was able to share with him. Often I succeeded in this, but there were times that my primary feeling was fatigue. I put so much worry and energy into trying to get more sleep. I agonized over whether or not to co-sleep, how to get Sage to fall asleep other ways than just nursing, how to get a good nap schedule during the day so I would have a bit of time to relax or get my work done, or whatever . . .

I know that I did the best I could as a new mother, and that I never held back when it came to nurturing Sage. Yet, I would give anything, anything, to be awake in the middle of the night nursing him, or changing his diaper, or rocking him, singing to him, holding his little body. I would trade all my sleep for that.

I want to share this
song with you. It took my breath away the first time I heard it. It is from the soundtrack to Winged Migration. You can listen to it at
It is such a beautiful expression of impermanence. If we are wise, we put every ounce of our energy into love, and we do so knowing that nothing in life can be held forever.

To Be By Your Side

Across the oceans across the seas,
Over forests of blackened trees.
Through valleys so still we dare not breathe,
To be by your side.

Over the shifting desert plains,
Across mountains all in flames.
Through howling winds and driving rains,
To be by your side.

Every mile and every year,
For every one a little tear.
I cannot explain this, dear,
I will not even try.

Into the night as the stars collide,
Across the borders that divide
Forests of stone standing petrified,
To be by your side.

For I know one thing,
Love comes on a wing,
For tonight I will be by your side,
But tomorrow I will fly.

From the deepest ocean to the highest peak,
Through the frontiers of your sleep.
Into the valley where we dare not speak,
To be by your side.

Across the endless wilderness,
Where all the beasts bow down their heads.
Darling, I will never rest
Till I am by your side.

Every mile and every year,
Time and distance disappear
I cannot explain this, dear no,
I will not even try.

And I know just one thing,
Love comes on a wing
And tonight I will be by your side.
But tomorrow I will fly away,
Love rises with the day
And tonight I may be by your side.
But tomorrow I will fly, tomorrow I will fly,
Tomorrow I will fly.


Anonymous said...


Sometimes sleep seems like the one thing that we simply cannot will ourselves to do, the more we want/need it the harder it is to find. I remember one time you told me that love was like a butterfly, the more you chase it the harder it is to catch but if you just sit still it will come and land on your shoulder. It is much the same way with sleep. When I work these long graveyard shifts I know I need to sleep, but even more than that I need rest. Try this: when you find yourself unable to sleep recognize that it is rest that you need the most and try to relax, deep relaxation, get used to being there, settle into it, no worries. If you do not find sleep you will find peace, and the greatest surprise is that if you really find the peace then most of the time you fall asleep.

A big piece of the lesson that many of us have taken away from your recent teachings to us is the realization that the little things that used to seem like such burdens are really little blessings. I can only imagine the depth of your longing to lie awake with Sage in your arms, a friend of ours (yours) told me that when her baby woke early the morning after the news she wept in thanksgiving that he was pestering her for attention. How blessed she felt to have him crying and needing her, a blessing that most of us parents simply do not take the time to recognize. I ache for you this morning and send a long distance embrace.

It is late for me (early for you) and I need to go to bed. Feel free to call if you want to...


Julie said...

Oh, what a beautiful song. I found your blog on the Miss site and came to see what you had to say, and that song and video were so beautiful and sad. My little boy drowned in a wooded lake that looked a lot like that - the images and music were very moving to me. Thank you for your lovely posts. I look forward to reading your blog. I'm so sorry that you are missing your precious Sage.

Julie, Ward's mama