The Day My World Crashed to Smithereens
It can happen to anyone.
It happened to me. One normal, beautiful day.
I was given a devastating diagnosis about someone I love, and the world just came crashing down.
I walked out of the building where I had just heard those scary words, and in one instant, the sky, the sun, the trees, the playground, looked completely different.
I knew that THEY hadn’t changed. But to me nothing would be the same anymore.
It was a long drive home.
The sun was shining brightly. But inside I felt broken.
No, not broken. I felt shattered.
A million little pieces, with sharp, jagged ends were piercing my heart.
And while crawling through the endless traffic, my mind tried to make some sense of it all.
Did I say it was a long drive home? No, it was a very long drive home.
But as I got closer and closer, I knew I must collect myself.
One cannot just walk into a home with children at this hour, in such a state, and then happily answer all their questions, help them with their homework, prepare and feed them supper, while giving out instructions, encouragement and advice simultaneously.
Not unless you happen to be their Mother.
Then you don’t really have a choice.
Even if your life just shattered, and all you have are a bunch of broken pieces.
And then I remembered that toy.
We used to play with it when we were kids.
It had lots of different colored smithereens, a mirror, and a peephole.
We would shake it, and then we held it up to the light. And when we peeked into that peephole, we saw a beautiful picture.
We didn’t see any smithereens. We didn’t see any shattered pieces.
We only saw the magic.
I think it’s called a kaleidoscope.
And it makes a bunch of broken pieces look exquisite.
By making them look into the mirror.
And by holding them up to the light.
It doesn’t add any new elements, nor does it delete any pieces.
They are still the exact same broken pieces! But look how beautiful they are now!
I turn right and drive into my neighborhood. I am getting closer to home.
My heart is still full of smithereens.
But when I look inwards, I know I can find the strength.
And when I look upwards, I know that I am not alone.
And now when I will look into that peephole, I will see a magnificent and unique picture.
And with that, I turn off the ignition, and enter my home with a smile.