More on forgiveness

This idea and process continues to consume my thoughts.

I am FIERCLEY protective of my daughter.  At the thought of someone abusing her, my immediate response is that I would kill them, no hesitation or thought required.  Because of my experience, I have never left her with a babysitter, or alone with any family or friends.  I worry constantly that she will experience the horrendous things I endured in school.

But I have to realize that things are going to happen to her that I have no control over.  She will have her own lessons to learn.  But her pain is my pain.  Could I forgive people that hurt her?  That is something I am struggling with.  All I can do is help formulate the wonderful person she is, and pass on lessons I have learned.  I can say my experiences at school made me a better person, that I learned compassion and other lessons from it.  But how will I feel if she comes home in tears over someone picking on her, or a boyfriend that treats her badly?

Hmmm

*sigh*

Amazing how emotions can cause actual physical pain.  I’m so frustrated.  I’ve tried everything I can.  I’m REALLY REALLY pissed off at the Universe right now.  Dangling that fucking carrot in front of me for FIFTEEN FUCKING YEARS and then snatching it away right when I thought the time had finally come.  When it seemed the PERFECT fucking time.  Fucking TORTURING me.  Grrr.  Arggh.  I can feel one of my once in a decade monumental destroy the house temper tantrums coming on.

*sigh* But my new favorite quote is “When you make plans, God laughs”  Trust.  Trust trust trust trust in the Universe.  It knows what it’s doing.  Stop struggling.  Surrender.  Things always work out when I just SURRENDER and let the Universe work it’s magic.

But this is the hardest struggle to surrender I’ve ever had.

Universe give me strength.

Maybe it’s intuition
But some things you just don’t question
Like in your eyes
I see my future in an instant
And there it goes
I think I’ve found my best friend
I know that it might sound more than a little crazy
But I believe

I knew I loved you before I met you
I think I dreamed you into life
I knew I loved you before I met you
I have been waiting all my life

There’s just no rhyme or reason
Only this sense of completion
And in your eyes
I see the missing pieces
I’m searching for
I think I’ve found my way home

I know that it might sound more than a little crazy
But I believe

Thankful

My Munchkin ROCKS.  Since she’ll be with Scott’s family for Thanksgiving, we had our own little ritual today.  We sat down, lit a candle between us and held hands.  I spoke about all the things I was thankful for, and then it was her turn.  She said she was thankful for food and houses and the land, and that she had so much when so many people in the world have nothing. (she’s 7!).

I  asked her to say what she was thankful for for each close member of the family.  With her Dad, it was playing lots of video games and watching movies together.  With Caroline, it was all the fun baking they do.  With her little sister, it was lots of hugs. With her grandparents, it was lots of TOYS!  When it was my turn, she said “Mommy there are thousands of things, it would take all night!”  My heart melted and I told her to just say the most important things.  She said she was thankful that I taught her to be a good, loving person, and she was thankful she picked me to be her Mom.

I am so lucky to have her.  She has turned into the most compassionate, loving, kind, smart person I know and as much as I want to keep her young and so close to me, I am in awe watching the beautiful soul that is emerging, and I know it’s going to just keep getting more wondrous.

Thank you, my darling, for choosing me to be your Mom.

Broken

This poem was written in 1991. Going to be rewritten into a song for the album

Lost

I’ve often wondered about the demons
coming in the pale skirts of midnight
I never really paid attention
though I knew they were coming
and it made me sick
to see myself broken down
I couldn’t get a grip
on my dour self
as I slipped into my state of disbelief

Something is broken and I can’t recover

Don’t even think for a second
don’t you put your filthy guilt on me
don’t you put your filthy hands on me
don’t say you ever believed in me
when you did nothing but lead me
into a forest of darkness
with no thought, regardless of my heart
Relentless

Something is broken and I can’t recover

I saw the waves were crashing
my arms were bleeding
my eyes deceived me
my eyes will bleed
to trust is to sleep
to trust is to deceive

Something is broken and I can’t recover

I promised myself never to shed a tear
for you and all that were alike
so I turn away, and I never look back

Something is broken and I can’t recover

So I saved myself from fucking misery
I’m failing to function because of temptation
don’t talk to me about your love

Something is broken and I can’t recover

Memories of you and your final farewell

Begging you to not go out because if you did he would abuse me.  You never listened.  You said I was going through an “attachment phase”.

Running to you after Sarah’s funeral.  You shoved me away and I fell backwards onto the ground.

Spending Christmas with a foster family, missing you, while you went through your hell in the psych ward from losing your other daughter.

Teaching me to read by 3, always impressing the importance of books upon me.

Taking me back to the playground where a boy 5 years older had hit me, and slapping the hell out of him.

Spanking the hell out of ME with a wooden spoon, because I was a little kleptomaniac in Kindergarten and Grade 1.

You always shying away when I tried to cuddle.  You were never comfortable with physical affection.  You said you never had the maternal instinct.

Bleah

Had a long nap and feel marginally better.  I think I’m just mentally and spiritually exhausted.  Been working with massive amounts of Ki and just strained too much.  Need some serious grounding and nature time.

I miss Honey (My Grandma).  She was plump and curvy and I would curl up against her chest and she’d rock with me, circling her thumb around mine.  She was the one who got me into drumming.  She was the coolest Grandma ever.

It’s been 3 years now since Mom killed herself.  For the majority of that time I’ve felt nothing but fury towards her, but lately there have been times I miss my MOM, the real Mom who came out sometimes.  The Mom I could tell anything to.  When I was sick she would run me a hot bath and make my bed up for me, and both were never so perfect as when she did them.

I just need a Maternal figure, a broad squishy chest to curl up into, plump arms folded around me and just breathing in her heartbeat as we rock, wrapped in the arms of the Mother.

Today I feel….

Vulnerable.

A rabbit frozen on the meadow watching the hawks circle overhead

Raw

Like my skin is being peeled away layer by layer, leaving the flesh and vessels exposed.  Even my eyelids are taken, so that I cannot hide from what I do not wish to see.

Sadness

The tears prick behind my eyes but for what? No tears for you…no one gets to see me cry

Grief

Again, for what?  A nameless hole I curl around, desperately trying to keep it from escaping

Tired

Always the strong one, always the rock.  Never fear, Shanti’s here!  Giving so much and receiving so little my reservoirs are empty

Lonely

I grasp around me and feel only empty air.  I am a form of mist, I can hold nothing and no one can hold me

I want to go home.

*sigh*

Assorted stuff

I went to bed at 4AM Friday night and woke up at 7 *grumble*  I’m normally an early riser, it’s annoying (especially when your hungover) to wake up no matter how late you stay up, and I can never get back to sleep afterwards.  I was strangley energetic though, so I turned the music up full blast (sorry downstairs neighbor!), cleaned my house from top to bottom, did my cardio dance routine and weights, performed Abyhanga, and had a loooooong cool shower, scrubbing and exfoliating and deep moisturizing and tweezing and facials.

Then talked to my baby girl for 1/2 hour over at her Dad’s.  She likes it when I read/sing  to her over the phone.  She was excited because her Nanny was  coming for a sleepover.  That child is soooooooo loved.  No doubts for her as there were for me.  She’s told she’s loved and hugged and kisses and adored every day.  And the beautiful thing is she isn’t spoiled from all this attention.  She loves back just as fiercely and is so compassionate and thoughtful.  We saw a tiny spider on the floor of the Quay and she demanded we take it outside and find a good home for it.  As much as I miss her, having her at her Dad’s every second week is good for me.  Let’s me get my groove on and relax and just take care of myself.  Plus he and I have such opposite parenting techniques that it’s good for her to get a balance.

Then I went for a nap at 1PM, and woke up this morning at 9AM.  Guess I needed it

I bought a 10 CD collection on learning to sing.  It’s REALLY good.  I’ve already learned a lot from it.  I’m most DEFINATELY not a soprano though, my natural range is tenor/alto.  Part of it is increasing your range properly thought, so we’ll see.  Tenor/Alto is good for the blues though!

Alright I’m going down to the Quay for some gelato and to relax in the sun on my floating dock.  The movement of it from the waves is very soothing.  Rocked in the arms of Kali Ma.

The Madeline Saga: Ode to the Strawberry

Strawberry’s were my one craving when I was pregnant with Madeline.  It hit at about 6 months.  Cravings are all consuming when you are pregnant, it’s all you can think about and your body feels like it’s going through withdrawal.

It being the middle of winter, alas, no luscious strawberry’s were to be found.  (Frozen just wouldn’t do).

Every week I would trudge to the grocery store, praying to see that splash of red, that nectar of the Gods.  Every week I would trudge home defeated.

And then…finally.  We walked into the store and “HALLELUJAH” resounded throughout the store.  I stood in front of the objects of my desire…..and started hysterically crying.  Scott walked to the other side of the produce section so he could pretend he didn’t know the crazy pregnant lady.

They filled my vision, green and red, hearts calling to me.  With a trembling hand I reached out to grasp one.  Every pore was visible, every curve and line.  The smell filled my nose, every part of me screaming in desire.

I brought it slowly to my lips, quivering in anticipation, and closing my lips lightly around it I bit down.  The mix of sweet and tart flooded my taste buds, the juice staining my lips as I sucked at this ambrosia.

I was interrupted from my sensual revelry by a man clearing his throat behind me, wanting to purchase some.  Like an animal I almost bared my teeth at him. “MINE!” screamed my body.  Some semblance of sanity reasserted itself and I backed away.

We bought a flat of berries, and I gorged myself until lips and face and fingers were stained red.  Ahhh…sweet relief.

LONG LIVE  STRAWBERRY’S!

Mom

Little 15

Little fifteen
You help her forget
The world outside
You’re not part of it yet
And if you could drive
You could drive her away
To a happier place
To a happier day
That exists in your mind
And in your smile
She could escape there
Just for a while
Little fifteen

Little fifteen
Why take the smooth with the rough
When things run smooth
It’s already more than enough
She knows your mind
Is not yet in league
With the rest of the world
And its little intrigues
Do you understand
Do you know what she means
As time goes by
And when you’ve seen what she’s seen… you will
Little fifteen

Little fifteen
Why does she have to defend
Her feelings inside
Why pretend
She’s not had a life
A life of near misses
Now all that she wants
Is three little wishes
She wants to see with your eyes
She wants to smile with your smile
She wants a nice surprise
Every once in a while
She wants to see with your eyes
She wants to smile with your smile
She wants a nice surprise
Every once in a while
Little fifteen

© 1987 Martin Lee Gore – Depeche Mode