Full Circle

Most of the time, people cry because they're sad. Sometimes, I cry out of pure happiness and/or gratitude. On perfect and rare occasions, it's just because something is so beautiful, my mind and body are overwhelmed by it.

One such occasion occurred yesterday.

I retrieved the mail like I usually do. I grabbed a fistful of junk mail out of the box and tossed it on the dining room table to deal with later. One of the envelopes had a publisher's name on it I recognized as an Orthodox supplier. I thought, oh, there's their new catalog. I'll take a look later this evening.

So, later, I was clearing off the table when I realized...that's not my Orthodox supplier. Dude. That's a different publisher of the same name. They're the ones running my first feature ever.

I tore it open. It was two copies of my feature entitled, "Losing It," chronicling the early days of my struggle with PPD. Oh, and there was a check in there, too.

Strangely, it wasn't seeing my name in big, bold, and italicized letters at the top of the first page that ended up spilling tears all over my face. It wasn't the fact that mine was the biggest story. It wasn't even the fact that I got paid to do my favorite thing in the world: write. It was a tiny little box I didn't even contribute that had contact information and links for readers to get more information on mental health and PPD.

It was the idea that during the week of October 3, 2010, there are women in the state of Indiana who might get help. Entire families who might not struggle all the way to where we did.

That, my friends, is the purest form of beauty. And I cried.