Sister Medicine

There are thoughts in my head not fit for sharing publicly. That is just the truth of a loss like this. There is a frank starkness and unbearable weight that no one mentions in polite company– something I would likely not have understood on the outside looking in if I had been anyone else but the mother of this child who left us far too soon. It is, however, my great fortune, in the midst of desolation & despair, to have the love, support & protection of wise women within arms & ear reach of me at a moments notice who I can be brazenly, brokenly honest with, who don’t cringe or pity or try to fix or fade it, who let me be crazy but who don’t let me believe I am…

In addition to my amazing mother and two beautiful souled sisters, I have been blessed with a mother in law and sisters in law whom I adore. Beyond them, I have a very tight circle of girl friends, near & far, who are as dear to me as family and who reciprocate my affection for them without limit or hesitation.

Growing up the middle child and “derelict daughter”, I sought out extrovertedly & very socially, I was a social butterfly, the life of the party. After I became a mother, things changed significantly and I found myself connecting & relating differently & cultivating relationships that were deeper, more nourishing and authentic to my true nature. A by product of maturity, I am sure, but one that was vastly different from how I “saw myself”. I found that I preferred down time, needed to refuel in solitude which, enmeshed as I was with my son, was always inclusive of him & which we called “mama time” or “mama days”. I learned that I was far more introverted than I would have ever guessed and I discovered that the company I kept was a direct reflection of the burgeoning seeker I was becoming.

Before Isaac, I was proudly & robustly stoic, reserved, reckless. Yet despite the earlier mention of being the problem child, over time, I found that I was actually a peace keeper, a good girl, a nice person, patient, kind, a giver, an avoider of conflict, sensitive to stimuli, prone to melancholy & lamenting, deeply intuitive, analytical & very emotional. These were all astonishing to me from the former point of view I had of myself as well as effortlessly embraced from my new perception of my self awareness.

As the dust settles over the loss of Isaac, I have questioned my identity alot. I have wondered, at times, and as aforementioned is not fit for consumption of the masses so here diluted 😉 , if all the best attributes I recognized as “me” were only me as a mama, and not who I am at my core. Am I nice? And what good is nice? I have questioned the myth of the mother, to be of pure heart & thought, I have questioned my ability to give as I had grown accustomed to. And if I cannot give, what good am I? I have agonized over the loss of the title given to me with the pure love & light little (& growing) boys have for their Mamas. I have agonized over feeling selfish, silly, even surly about disclosing MY feelings, “what this has done to me”…. I have wept and I have turned inward, i have closed myself off in an effort to protect others from me, I have gone completely full circle to a place of stoicism and cautious reserve. I seem to run the gauntlet of all possible projections of self in despair…

And yet, through all my changes, these women who hold me close to them, ride my wave, ebb & flow, gently and with utter conviction, accept me wherever I am. What they are teaching me, though their enduring friendship, no matter where Im at within my self, is how to be a good friend, a good mama, to my self, even now as Hurricane Christina….Reminding me of who I am, whoever I am, and nurturing me like herbal balms, like strong medicine.

Published by: christinaryanstoltz

I write to touch the supple center of unguarded ache~ To release myself from the pressure of not knowing how to move forward from the unfathomable loss of my beloved son, my beautiful boy Isaac, to suicide, of not knowing how to release my grip on of the past, both the worshipping of it as well as the beating myself up for it, and letting go of the need to know what I could’ve done or what on earth I will do now. I write to heal.


4 thoughts on “Sister Medicine”

  1. My heart goes out to you and all your family. I’m six years older than you and all through the time Christina and I were in massage school, I always felt she was wiser than me. I see where she gets her depth and soul.


    1. Yes, Christina. I always have trouble leaving comments on wordpress and I kept trying to remember my password and scrolling through the posts and somehow got mixed up. Thanks for passing it along. I can’t believe how much you look like her in that picture.


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