Things I do not know:
How our money will hold up once my husband begins his program,
How I will handle not being in classes for a whole year,
How to help my best friend heal her broken heart...again,
How to make sure my daughter learns to write and count with her "issues",
How to make the choice to hold her back a grade or send her on,
How to keep the neighbors dogs from using our yard as a potty,
How to relax,
How to breathe deeply,
How not to gain anymore weight with 12 weeks left in pregnancy,
(the cookies are so good),
How to stay out of the yard area at Lowes.
Things I know:
We will be ok, We will be ok, We will be ok...better than ok actually but for now I have to tell myself "ok".
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Monday, January 3, 2011
Thinking about baby
The water as hot as my body can tolerate.
Drops whisk away all.
My children, my husband, my sickness, aches, and pains.
Bubbles hide all the imperfections.
And I think about you, what you will look like,
How your voice will sound, if you will have daddy's freckles,
Boy or girl, I think about the pearls of toes on a newborn.
My newborn, our newborn.
Drops whisk away all.
My children, my husband, my sickness, aches, and pains.
Bubbles hide all the imperfections.
And I think about you, what you will look like,
How your voice will sound, if you will have daddy's freckles,
Boy or girl, I think about the pearls of toes on a newborn.
My newborn, our newborn.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
letter to bob
I dreamed of you the other day and you were the you before all the chaos.
You wore a shirt that I bought you as a gift while we were dating, soft, deep purple.
I had forgotten the shirt until I saw your twenty four year old self wearing it.
You smelled of Grey Flannel.
You were in my home and I was the me now, not the eighteen year old me I would have been with you at twenty four.
Your skin was unblemished, your face full, eyes not wrinkled and puffy.
You came to me and asked why it wouldn't work.
We held each other and wept.
I told you that "you broke me inside."
You pointed to my head and asked "in here?", then my heart and asked "or in here?"
I answered both. and I told you that you had died. I explained to you that you had taken your own life in a way and it was over now.
You evaporated then, into thin air, gone, just gone.
I stood there thinking you voice was gone, your handwriting, your laughter, your yell, your arrogance, your cocky walk.
I woke up beathing heavily and with tears on my face and I wept again for you, for me, for your mother. I did not weep for your children.
And I wept with happiness thinking that it was over, I need to let go now.
You wore a shirt that I bought you as a gift while we were dating, soft, deep purple.
I had forgotten the shirt until I saw your twenty four year old self wearing it.
You smelled of Grey Flannel.
You were in my home and I was the me now, not the eighteen year old me I would have been with you at twenty four.
Your skin was unblemished, your face full, eyes not wrinkled and puffy.
You came to me and asked why it wouldn't work.
We held each other and wept.
I told you that "you broke me inside."
You pointed to my head and asked "in here?", then my heart and asked "or in here?"
I answered both. and I told you that you had died. I explained to you that you had taken your own life in a way and it was over now.
You evaporated then, into thin air, gone, just gone.
I stood there thinking you voice was gone, your handwriting, your laughter, your yell, your arrogance, your cocky walk.
I woke up beathing heavily and with tears on my face and I wept again for you, for me, for your mother. I did not weep for your children.
And I wept with happiness thinking that it was over, I need to let go now.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Future Story
I want to write a story
I'm not sure where to begin.
Do I start with the day I said that I loved you
or the day, years later, you told me the same thing?
Do I go into detail about the chivalry you displayed?
Do I describe having to go to the doctor to fix what you did?
Do I tell about your arrogance and ignorance when you told me there was no God?
Do I talk about your preaching the gospel with relish?
The story would become a book, maybe too much for my mother to read.
She would have to turn away from the pages and gasp
Others would say "No one knows what she lived through."
Or maybe, "There is no way that is all true."
But it is.
I could never make up all the ways you changed me, shaped me into who I am.
There is no fiction like this.
I want to describe it all so I can read myself and then I will know how to feel
about you and life and death and survival.
I'm not sure where to begin.
Do I start with the day I said that I loved you
or the day, years later, you told me the same thing?
Do I go into detail about the chivalry you displayed?
Do I describe having to go to the doctor to fix what you did?
Do I tell about your arrogance and ignorance when you told me there was no God?
Do I talk about your preaching the gospel with relish?
The story would become a book, maybe too much for my mother to read.
She would have to turn away from the pages and gasp
Others would say "No one knows what she lived through."
Or maybe, "There is no way that is all true."
But it is.
I could never make up all the ways you changed me, shaped me into who I am.
There is no fiction like this.
I want to describe it all so I can read myself and then I will know how to feel
about you and life and death and survival.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Troll under the Bridge
Those times you lay on the couch and I on the love seat and our hands would touch and we left them that way because we wanted to.
I thought you'd always be there for the rest of my life.
I didn't know I had more time than you.
The sand in my car there weeks after,
Simpsons every night,
Sundance films,
I'd slap your face even though I knew you'd hit me harder,
It still felt pretty good to slap you.
Jokes always, even not funny ones,
Grey flannel and Polo,
Edisto Island, always Edisto.
Signing that petition like it mattered.
Peaches and boiled peanuts.
I knew you'd never be the same...
Suddenly I allow myself to remember the good things that were overshadowed by your devastation path before.
I forgot so I could survive and now I remember...
Like a troll in my head that only comes out when the town stops trying to crucify him.
That troll is out.
He sits on his bridge and weeps and mumbles
all the things that were good about us.
I thought you'd always be there for the rest of my life.
I didn't know I had more time than you.
The sand in my car there weeks after,
Simpsons every night,
Sundance films,
I'd slap your face even though I knew you'd hit me harder,
It still felt pretty good to slap you.
Jokes always, even not funny ones,
Grey flannel and Polo,
Edisto Island, always Edisto.
Signing that petition like it mattered.
Peaches and boiled peanuts.
I knew you'd never be the same...
Suddenly I allow myself to remember the good things that were overshadowed by your devastation path before.
I forgot so I could survive and now I remember...
Like a troll in my head that only comes out when the town stops trying to crucify him.
That troll is out.
He sits on his bridge and weeps and mumbles
all the things that were good about us.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Definition of Gone
Gone
Wind through the fingers, riding in the car.
Eyelash you wanted to wish on.
Stone you decided to skip.
That one sock.
Book you loaned to the wrong person.
Necklace you dropped in the wave.
On the tip of your tongue.
I am the soul rememberer.
I am all that knows what the picture of the feather means.
I am the survior of you.
I am all the stories now.
Because you are gone.
Wind through the fingers, riding in the car.
Eyelash you wanted to wish on.
Stone you decided to skip.
That one sock.
Book you loaned to the wrong person.
Necklace you dropped in the wave.
On the tip of your tongue.
I am the soul rememberer.
I am all that knows what the picture of the feather means.
I am the survior of you.
I am all the stories now.
Because you are gone.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Drew Eden and how to forgive your attacker
My sweet child has the fifth upper resp. infection this year right now. Her immune system is weak due to paternal drug use prior to conception. It really upsets me hearing her wheeze and cough and be ill all the time. It is really not fair as life too often isn't. I get very upset every time she gets sick because I feel it is not needed.
Which reminds me to insert here that my ex-husband called last week and apologized to me for all that he had done. It has been 4 and a half years since we were together and I have been married one and a half of those to my second husband. I responded badly to the apology.
I knew at some point he would realize that he screwed up. He was explosive and violent when he used drugs. I lived with him for 7 years behaving the way he did. I never knew which end of the spectrum he was on, going up-going down-high-with drawl. And no women who live through this, and God be with the ones that don't, ever speak of the torment they live in. He went through 4 rehabs while we were together and lost 5 jobs. I never really knew him at all. He hid his addict side until absolutely necessary to tell me. He left bruises visible and not, his favorite thing to do when angry with me, because he was convinced I had an affair with anyone that crossed my path, was the choke hold. Never mind the other women he had affairs with. He also adored the spit in the face when she doesn't expect it. I was so afraid of him. The really sad part is he could be wonderful too. He could be so sweet and romantic and just really great. That is the scary thing, it kept me there, waiting for him to notice that I loved him. He never did.
He calls for the first time in 6 months- yes 6 months- he has not even called to check on the kids in that amount of time. So he apologizes and I was very offended. I just ask how do you apologize for all the heartache you put me through? The kids were too young to remember living with him. They only remember their "REAL" Daddy- my second husband- not the biological real but the "REAL" Daddy. To apologize was really upsetting to me. You just can't take that back.
After calming down I called back and I apologized and I told him I was glad that he was a terrible husband/father/man. Because I wouldn't be here now if he'd been good at it, and here is really good. Here is chocolate fudge brownie good. I forgive him if I get to be here.
Which reminds me to insert here that my ex-husband called last week and apologized to me for all that he had done. It has been 4 and a half years since we were together and I have been married one and a half of those to my second husband. I responded badly to the apology.
I knew at some point he would realize that he screwed up. He was explosive and violent when he used drugs. I lived with him for 7 years behaving the way he did. I never knew which end of the spectrum he was on, going up-going down-high-with drawl. And no women who live through this, and God be with the ones that don't, ever speak of the torment they live in. He went through 4 rehabs while we were together and lost 5 jobs. I never really knew him at all. He hid his addict side until absolutely necessary to tell me. He left bruises visible and not, his favorite thing to do when angry with me, because he was convinced I had an affair with anyone that crossed my path, was the choke hold. Never mind the other women he had affairs with. He also adored the spit in the face when she doesn't expect it. I was so afraid of him. The really sad part is he could be wonderful too. He could be so sweet and romantic and just really great. That is the scary thing, it kept me there, waiting for him to notice that I loved him. He never did.
He calls for the first time in 6 months- yes 6 months- he has not even called to check on the kids in that amount of time. So he apologizes and I was very offended. I just ask how do you apologize for all the heartache you put me through? The kids were too young to remember living with him. They only remember their "REAL" Daddy- my second husband- not the biological real but the "REAL" Daddy. To apologize was really upsetting to me. You just can't take that back.
After calming down I called back and I apologized and I told him I was glad that he was a terrible husband/father/man. Because I wouldn't be here now if he'd been good at it, and here is really good. Here is chocolate fudge brownie good. I forgive him if I get to be here.
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