There’s always something to howl about.

The Part You Give Away

Waits sings about The Part You Throw Away, and I did plenty of that once, but today, it’s about the part you give away.

For many reasons, I’ve been hesitant to discuss this except in the most general terms. It feels both invasive and self-indulgent to discuss my personal life here, but this post is about the part you give away.

I have a child who has been in and out of the hospital most of the summer, and she’s back there again. I’m not sure which is more strange- having a child in the hospital or, knowing exactly what to pack for the stay, and getting it packed in 20 minutes.

Things happen. We deal. And we deal. And we deal. And each time we deal, we grow stronger.

A mother becomes tempered steel, because she’s given away so much of herself that what is left, perhaps all that is left, is the very best. She’s dumped all the baggage, everything worthless, useless. What’s left is her essence.

I am now inside out. Stronger than I was two months ago, reduced and forged to my very essence.

I don’t want pity. I don’t want anything really, except to show you, and myself, that the part you give away is the part that creates the most strength and beauty in life.