Now The Son

24 years ago, I gave birth to a son. My labor lasted 20 1/2 hours, and every minute was worth the pain, fear and uncertainty that surrounded those hours. As the Doctor placed that warm squirming, weight of my child on my tummy, we became one. Kissing his little cheeks and touching his tiny ears, left me teary eyed with joy, quietly thanking God for his gift, his creation, his love.

Freaky Friday

Pizza
Movies
silly giggles
Mother and Daughter
such a strong chord

Trashed Thursday

The phone is ringing off the wall, no one answers. A Mother's worry leads to a long drive through twisted trees, and up winding hills. Houses along the way banter insults from their trash laden yards.
Upon entering the house we step back with disgust as our eyes race wildly while our voices call out her name. No answer. Again we shout. A small weary voice is heard from the bedroom. Walking over and around mounds of clothing scattered from the front to the back of the house. My breath leaves me as I take in her surroundings. Lying in her bed covers over her head, she peers out with a half smile. I bend in and pull the cover back to kiss her forehead and cheeks a million times. She is my sunshine but her light has dimmed. From the hall her Daddy says, "rise and shine, get this house clean". He rolls up his sleeves and digs in as I wisper in her ear, "you must rise and meet the day for it is about to be gone." With as much effort as she can muster, she rises, dresses and combs her hair. The three of us accomplish much. Will she rise another day?

Wounded Wednesday

One last word. One last inch of energy spent.

Tormented Tuesday

My face was pleasant, my words were honest but few. Around me sat those who's lives were being changed, and re-arranged. Some were happy, some were carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders. A mother held her child to her breast for nurishment, a necessary but tender act.
We sat nervously chattering about nothing, waiting for our name to be called. When the time came we assembled into the ultra sound room. As I looked at my daughters face, my heart fell into the pit of my stomach. Such a young life with so much to live, enjoy, hurt, experience, feel, and dream. Now, put on hold to bring new life into the world. A tough yet tender task for an unprepared girl. Then shifting my eyes to her husband my heart broke into pieces.
Watching the outlines on the screen and listening to the rythm of their childs heart I felt relief, as she seemed to be growing and all was well. I watched her squirm and stretch, mostly staying in the fetal position. I knew she was safe. Safe from living with two people who were unwilling and somewhat unable to become who and what they need to be, in order to raise a well balanced child.
Later tonight spending yet more draining hours of twisted words, tears, and texts. Just listening, waiting, and hoping to hear or read some sign of hope. Nothing yet.

Monday Has Passed

A storm forced it's heavy breath across our quiet little town. No rest for me as I faced my day with one eye open and one eye closed. Elderly voices realing insults at each other and at me left my spirit low. Monday, has passed.

My Daughter Is 18

We helped our daughter celebrate her 18th Birthday today. She and I went for a pedicure before we met up with her Dad for lunch and shopping. The three of us enjoyed our time together. Our time is short these days, she is a married lady. Tonight, she had cake at her house with a couple friends, and her husband. I could not go. Last night her husband and I exchanged angry words concerning yet another display of his dishonesty and lack of moral character. My heart with the weight of a cannon ball is still lodged in my throat. My eyes see the rough road ahead for my child, his wife. My mind is on overload. I cannot rest. My prayers seem as if they hit the ceiling and bounce back. I despise being lied to and cannot control the rage that comes as a result. My whole weekend is a torment. I do not want to face Monday without rest.

Hot Chocolate

with eyes of rich dark chocolate
she wets her sugary lips
tasting her warmth
he is hooked

A Part Of Me

stripped of color
longing for the stroke of brush
on a rough canvas

People From My Past

Recently getting hooked on facebook, has sent me looking for people I've known years ago from my small hometown of Streator, Illinois. Some of which I had bad experiences with but, upon looking at their photos and reflecting on the hurt, I've felt compelled to forgive them of their offenses and to ask forgiveness for mine. Much to my total surprise I've been rejected by a couple of them, and treated in the same ignorant manor of which they used 20 years ago. Do people really not mellow out with age?? Do they still have poison in their veins?? Why do they keep curses going for generations by spilling their lies and hatred into the veins of their children, so that they may never be free??? "Forgive and move on" has always been my mantra. But surely not easy to act on. At the age of 45 and 3/4 I am still trying to find the good in people, and being sadly disappointed. What a waste of precious life to not spread love, friendship and peace, but to be consumed by violence.

Bedtime Thinking

laptop on my lap
pillows behind my back
lights off and doors locked
alarm set for early
clock ticking it's late
box fan blowing for sound

I should be sleeping

my mind is full
news man on the air
children starving and alone
homeless live on the streets
young soldiers dying
leaders that cannot lead

I should be sleeping

listen to the fan hum
feel the softness of my bed
the king is on his throne
angels battle for our souls
eternity waits for all
he never sleeps

I should be sleeping

Little One

As I type, a small miniture weenie pup chews the sandals on my feet all the while whimpering to be held. She's been fed and taken outside. The longer I leave her on the floor without cuddling her, the louder she gets and the more things she finds to chew. Hmmm....I am flooded with several thoughts. One being that in less than six months the sounds we will be hearing will be a baby crying, basically needing the same kind of attention. Secondly, when I personally don't get enough attention I make a lot of noise and I chew!