There are just a few moments of peace between the time when I am first lured from the comfort of my dreams and that moment when I am plunged back into the reality of a new day. Today the realities of yesterday, the ones I tucked away from my consciousness during my sleep, come back to me with a familiar ache.
My daughters are both facing personal injustices right now. One daughterś injustice is, in my mind, wrongly perceived as an injustice. Instead, I see it as a minor life setback. The other daughter is facing an injustice that is very real and incredibly unfair. And, while she recognizes the unfairness of the situation for what it truly is, that daughter is facing her own injustice with an acceptance that I do not understand.
In the early morning, as the light just begins to fade into my bedroom window, I realize that I am not my daughters. They will weather these parts of their lives on their own terms. In the end, they will come through any injustice, large or small, fair or unfair, with a knowledge and strength they did not have before facing it. And that, of course, is the way it is supposed to be.
And then I get up to face the day.