Chest and Treasure…

 

Yesterday I learned exactly what my son thinks of me… I also caught a glimpse of the kind of man he will become. And after seeing and learning I feel a sense of gratitude that I’ve never known… I am teaching my children that love, respect, and honor are important, but morals and values have to be the foundation. We simply can’t have one without the other. Little did I know, my Angels are…were listening…

So on yesterday the Prince crawled into my bed, kissed my cheek, smiled, and said Happy Mother’s Day Mama, while handing me a card. On the top he drew an action figure with a caption bubble that read: “I am your Armor!”  Below he wrote: Mom, you are the Great Mom I know and I am so happy to have you. I love you so much. I am the Chest and you are my Treasure, I’m always going to protect you, because I love you. My heart melted and still melts every time I think about it.

All I can say is that they get it! My son is becoming the gentleman my Father taught my brother to be! He is getting the message, he is learning the lessons, and I am blessed beyond Measure!

 

Life is Good, really Good….

the dilemma of waiting...

W

aiting… Is not something I do well,  I’d like to think I have the patience thing down…. but the past events of this week have hindered my patience… while writing this I’m trying to find my way like feeling around through darkness even though the lights are on…

The light of  knowing the full truth of the matters, the darkness of not knowing where the boundary lines lie, how much you can attain within it's perimeters, and how much of it's area you can cover… but in this darkness I know EXACTLY what I want….

movies, dinners, afternoon strolls in the park, weekend getaways, the simple movement of everyday life that alludes to waking up next to each other and knowing that this is the first and last place you’d ever want to be… and although I know I can have these things, I shouldn’t want these things, I should abandon these notions but the deepness of my resolve will not allow it. Somehow I feel like it would be right only if I disengaged, gracefully added a cutesy, and walked away…   BUT my selfishness wants to give in selflessly…

I'm falling,

to a place I've never been...

I wonder if HE 

can

catch

ME ...

before the relapse...

 

The “Mr” I once loved chose to reentered his world of darkness. A world of promised wealth, but complicated with a war that breeds incarcerated causalities.  Now that he’s become a victim of the darkness, every so many weeks I feel a need to write. I haven’t figured out why but I do know that, For three years or and more I wrote everyday….every single fucking day…I wrote, about dreams, aspirations, daily plans and activities, my children, I painted futures and discussed whiting out the past even though I knew it wasn’t possible, but the idea was nice! The point is I wrote every single fucking day….never missed a day…every day I mailed a piece of myself 343 miles away…to be someone else’s sunshine…and he acknowledged it, called me his angel…every fucking single day I wrote…And now that over three years have passed I have learned to exchange the anger for something I have not given a name yet. But within the terms of the exchange I let the old me die, let her drift into a quiet passing, and promised not to mourn her death or shed tears. And although I buried her, the remnants of her resolve still exist flowing and mixing itself with the streams of my blood. And every now and again I hear her scream, cry out for what was lost, then scramble to reach for what is familiar. In these times I restrain her, comfort her, and remind her of the things she forgot. Knowing all the facts doesn’t keep me from wanting to write, but knowing the outcome does. Knowing that I am not the same woman keeps my fingers at bay.

Knowing the part of me that loved him has been cut away and stapled shut keeps me from the relapse!