How many days? Ambitions unfulfilled amongst the tide of repetitive failures. Beginning is the easy part- following through however, is an ability I’m still striving to acquire.
Pray tell, what were the excuses on the wind? The year anniversary of a step-daughters abandonment? Her birthday and the reminder of seven years of unrequited love.
An infection of winter in the bones that tethers one to bed with dis/ease and restlessness. Rain. Rain. Rain. Pain. Disillusionment- a sacrificial effigy of spirit and spunk that sunk with the ship of the second week in a promising new year. I continue to trip over the feet I trained to walk with the year of 2017. This is not the time to give in and give up. Rather it’s the time to realize I will continue to fall into old old habits until I carve new grooves in the stone to walk, skip, run, and dance with ease. Chisel to hard stone, chip, chip, chipping away at a substance harder than bone. Earth carved in concrete of an American Suburban CityScape. Practice is the magic behind every success. But I’ve yet to play this melody more than two fingers time.
From what I have learned I am the only one of this house that can withstand the cold. And wakes to comfort or tend to the needs of the remaining bodies when necessary. When the toddler woke from nightmare for the second time last night I brought her to bed. She slept as a princess, while the hubby and I were absolutely miserable. I awoke many times after the 32 pound octopus kicked or slapped me in my sleep (I was not alone. He complained as such.) When the hubby is sick or hurt I rise up to treat his malaise. And when I suffer similar circumstance I hear the mutterings of “Mothers don’t get days off.”
But what of the Non-Mother who has no say in court ordered appointments. Who was willing to adopt non-child of seven years of love from child to teenage years. Who was never shown true love from the fear it would harm her biologically-abusive-DNA-Contributor that used her as a weapon to attempt to destroy ex…
There was so much more I wanted to say. A list of topics ran through my head as I rocked to toddler to sleep. But this was the outcome- One of the many that coalesced my thoughts.
A part of me is annoyed at every depressing post that has bleed from my fingertips since I begun this blog. Another part has realized it’s therapeutic effect on my life. With “Sleeping with His Smell” I’ve gained the ability to stay in bed each time I wake. I am healing(?) There is a release from sharing my words. Resolutions and healing elements ebb from the tides of tapp-tapp-tapping on the keyboard.
It’s just the beginning. It’s full of tears and sorrow. I could question the title of this blog… But stick with me and I’m sure you will witness the smile that emerges with time. Forgive me if the image I currently focus upon is that of the ocean breaking upon rocks. One day we may see that girl who runs freely through wet sand as waves climb to greet her toes.