Be

I’m trying, trying to demonstrate how I want my own boys to be

How I hope they will treat others…

But I am pushed back, not by them

I am not allowed to provide them the example I wish for them to witness

I have done all I feel I can, and then I try more

And my heart starts to ache, my breathing increases, but shallow

Don’t they deserve more?

Who are their role models?

How will they be better fathers and husbands if they haven’t witnessed a better example?

My purpose in my life was without a doubt to be a mom

And I will always work to be better at my purpose

 

Be kind, be considerate, be unselfish, be giving

Be love, be happiness, be compassionate, be alive

Be nurturing, be supportive, be forgiving, be strong

Be a hero in your future children’s eyes

….and do not allow a moment to slip by when you can be everything to them

 

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Pain

As my oldest son D looked at me crying and yelling “It’s not funny mom when you joke you may have a boyfriend! Dad’s house is NOT my house. Stop telling me to keep some clothes there!” my heart was breaking. It quite literally felt like I was being smashed into tiny little pieces. I had no words in that moment. Just pain. This burst was apparently building inside of D. His pain glaring at me as his tears quickly slid down his beautiful cheeks. He yelled at me to “fix it.” His reference – the divorce, the two homes. As a mom, that’s what you do right? You fix it. But this I can not. So I walked heavily to the hallway that leads to his room and with a cracked voice flooded with emotion and so full of tears, I spoke the truth…”I believe your father and I have provided you with a wonderful life. And continue to give you a wonderful life. This (situation) is not what I wanted. But I have done and am doing everything I can to make this the best situation for T and you. I would like to think you’d feel I am deserving of happiness.” I just did not have the strength to look at him as I spoke. The hallway was dark and I knew he was tucked in his bed listening. His response was a sincere “I know.” Walking back to my own room, I cried myself to sleep.

My mother had given me a mug she had won for her dad at a carnival about 50 years ago. He passed away several years prior to my birth but many have said he is so much a part of me. Someone about two years ago accidentally broke the handle. I was able to superglue it back together….it continues to sit on my bureau holding miscellaneous items. Even though it was cracked, it was put back together with love and thoughtfulness. Just as it had  been presented to my grandfather from my mom so long ago – with love and thoughtfulness. It’s obviously not the same. When you look closely, you can see the crack. But it’s whole. And it’s perfect. And it represents so much.

Sometimes it’s more about how the pieces are put back together.

Passing of Time

As I reached for my green tea bag, I sensed a routine. For a moment, it felt like that movie Groundhog Day. When the day continues to repeat itself. And then I suddenly felt a sadness. Time is passing by. The days, they go by so very quickly. There was a moment, a moment in time about a week ago. My oldest son was walking out of the kitchen as I was moving about – probably putting dishes away or cleaning off the counter. My head was down, focused on something else other than him. He called to me “Mom,” and I continued to move about but responded “what.” “I love you,” he said. That was a moment. I looked up immediately then and stopped. If only I could bottle that moment. Save it forever.

Isn’t it funny how music, music can just bring you to a place in time? A song can all at once send tears down your face or create a smile or a thought or a memory. A song can change your mood, your direction. This morning it brought me back to my childhood. And suddenly, I just felt sad. Sad because my life is passing by and there is nothing, absolutely nothing I can do to slow it down.

Options are: becoming aware of those “moments,” physically and mentally slowing down, to breathe, and more than anything, living each and every moment completely. Becoming aware.

Broken

Have you ever felt broken? When you can’t peacefully sleep, when your chest tightens, when you put all your strength into holding back tears, when your stomach is in constant turmoil, when you walk through your day speaking with people acting as though you are fine but not truly hearing anything they are saying. Your responses are just on auto pilot. Have you felt this way? The most torturous part of it all? That moment, the one that broke me, is on repeat in my mind, in my thoughts. I fill with anger, with hurt, with pain. It consumes me. It’s like I was running along a path cautiously but happy and then next thing I know I am lying on the hard, rocky ground because someone stuck out their foot and tripped me. It happened so fast I had no time to see it coming. I was not prepared. And just like that I feel hollow, without words, and yes, broken.