Here

drifting in and out

seeing, only briefly

feeling, minutes

there’s hope..look

it passes by

i reach, but too late

or maybe it was just a shadow

the pain festers

it holds tight..and maybe it needs to

the salty ocean in my eyes

creates waves down my face

and my breath, i catch it sometimes

it helps to plant my feet..on the cold ground

and the dreams, the dreams mock me

i wish

for not too much right?

i hold a present, of love

and it sits waiting, waiting for you

to open

my heart patiently beats

while my lungs hold so much air

and my body tightens

that open field?

yes, that one

please meet me there

Just Me

So many people tell me I need to find a boyfriend. That’s their “fix” for me. “You need a guy.” And I do. I want someone in my life. But not as a bandaid for the pain. Not as a distraction. I’m so settled in this place of needing to feel and process. And at times I even question this thought process. Am I thinking too much? Am I being too hard on myself? Am I purposefully denying myself? Do you know how sometimes you try to explain something but it never sounds right? Well I came across this article yesterday and it so resonated, feeling like THIS is what I have been feeling really but have failed to explain in a way that makes sense.

Even T has asked to help create a profile for me on an online dating site. And I see him feeling like he somehow needs to take care of me. He watches his father with his girlfriend and though notices how completely different his father acts when in her presence, he also feels love and a togetherness. I want that. But not just because people are telling me I need that or because I need someone to fix me or my pain. I want someone who wants to be by my side sometimes pulling me forward to bigger adventures. Someone who carries hope on their shoulder. Someone who seeks opportunities. Someone who is not afraid. Someone who is strong and makes me feel just as empowered. Someone who is not afraid to laugh at themselves. Who can speak the truth and whose actions emulate truth. Someone who can make me laugh. Someone who respects all of me – not just sometimes, when it’s convenient, but always.

Until then I am learning to be okay. With me. Just me. I use to live a life where I was distant from myself. Slowly that is changing.

To Be…Not

Sometimes when you are in pain, in that moment, in that timeframe, you think it could not hurt anymore. But I discovered that is so wrong. Like being kicked when you are down. This is what I have felt for the past week. It has been a wave of constant hurt continuously smacking me against the rocky, sharp, unforgiving wall. I am left in-between this blockade and the thrashing, intensity of the waves…waiting for it all to stop.

Feelings of being overwhelmed followed by shock and sadness.

Strength found to be challenged again but with great force.

Some panic, some weakness, some all out craziness.

Again pure shock.

And then deep sadness and hurt and disbelief.

And I sat in this. All of it.

So twisted and surreal almost.

How ironic.

I lose myself from time to time. I get lost in the complexity and many paths. This past week, I lost all harmony.  Any sense of balance and peace was gone.

Maybe all these twists and turns is how I actually will find myself…….

 

Cautiously Happy

My whole life I was told I was unhappy. And to this day my mom defends this by saying “I wanted to know what I could do to make you happy.” She even went so far as to say “You misinterpreted things (I said) as a kid.” Umm no….telling me I was unhappy, telling other people in front of me I was unhappy is pretty straightforward.

So now I look back and think was I unhappy? Or was I just living out what she placed on me, much like a self-fulfilling prophecy? I do know I was unhappy she would say this. I was unhappy hearing it. But was the core of me unhappy? I believe I was heavily unbalanced and seeking. Seeking someone or something to sit on the other side of the see-saw so that our legs would dangle as we sat perfectly balanced. Do you remember sitting on see-saws as a kid? It was no fun if the other person weighed that much more than you because you were left stuck in the air. And if the other person weighed that much less, well your legs would hit the ground so hard and your knees would bend to an uncomfortable angle. But when you found the perfect match, it was, well, perfect. And fun.

As I am trying to move forward to a healthier place in my life, I struggle with being wholeheartedly happy. Understand there are countless moments that bring me happiness. But…I proceed with caution. Divorce hurts. And I was hurt by others during this time. As a result, my heart doesn’t want to feel any more pain. It has become afraid. And timid. It has cracks and holes and bruised parts that are so desperately afraid of someone else taking it and not respecting all of it’s broken pieces. Or not even considering my heart at all.

Yes I am happy, but only cautiously so. Wholeheartedly?…..one day.

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.

My Heart

Do you know what it feels like when your child is hurt or sad or scared? It shreds my heart. The moment my boys’ health, whether it be emotional health, physical health, or psychological health, is compromised in any way, my whole existence becomes awakened to the fragility of our lives. As their mother I want nothing more than for the both of them to live a fulfilling life with as little pain as possible. But I do realize pain in many shapes is inevitable, a part of growing and learning and experiencing.
I was running with a neighborhood friend last weekend and she started to talk about when her daughter is feeling sad, she too feels it as well. It’s an interconnectedness we share with our children. It’s an invisible cord that forever connects us.
Although my oldest son is in his teenage years and has little desire to spend much time with me unless he needs something, I still tell him I love him every time he leaves for school, at night before I go to bed, and now and again will send a text message “I love you.” I’m learning as I go how to be a mom, a better mom, to a teenage son. I have already faltered. But hopefully have recovered enough to have sustained little damage. As he “drifts” away into his own new unchartered territory, that invisible cord is still present.
My youngest son will always be my baby. I love his hugs, the fact that he still runs and jumps into my arms, and the sweet kisses goodnight. So the moment they are in pain, my love for them becomes that much more overwhelmingly strong and apparent.
After all, they are my heart.

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.