When he closed his eyes; I went to sleep...

This time of  year, since the death of my lil' son Zachary; I feel him so strongly, as today is the eve of his death so many years ago. Though, somehow, not so long ago. I find myself patting my own chest, as if I'm holding him, the beating of his heart on mine, arms around my neck,  head resting on my shoulder, sweet breath on my cheek, in his own darlin' way...patting his lil' back as I used to do almost daily. I feel him. He was 'bigger' then, and didn't need "mom-mom" so much. I miss that little guy. He would run, fall down ten times, and get up eleven! See, he had mild cerebral palsy on the left side of his body. More than likely why; he couldn't get away from those rolling logs in time, before they pinned him to the earth, under they're enormous weight. He was a spunky little fella, and quadruple the spirit of any other boy. He had to try much harder to physically accomplish things, though he didn't seem to notice. He didn't cry much,... even that day; just one tear on the rim of his lashes. Just a low whisper: "mom-mom", as he looked up to see me, just knowing that "mom-mom" could fix this too! Both of us losing hope; as his innocent blue eyes were becoming fixed. I do hope he felt some comfort knowing I was at least; there with him, as we both struggled for his life. I kissed every boo-boo, wiped every tear, slept by his side as I wiped his fevered brow. But, I couldn't fix this one..... The day his 'loving tree': hugged him; to a breath away from death. Held him so long and hard; that he was in a vegetative state from September 15 through October 26. I brought him home from Children's Hospital on October 21st, so that he would breathe his last breath where he belonged: at home. With us. His family. With me.  "Mom-mom".
I can still hear him say "Mom-mom, myyyy love you", and I would answer; saying that I loved him too.Though  I would also correct him and say: "Zacha, say: I love you, not MY love you". He would hold up the tops of his hands for me to kiss, to leave my lipstick print, and say "myyy am"! I kissed his hands in just that same way, before we laid him to rest in his final earthly bed with his favorite Spider Man p.j.'s on. Remembering how he would lift his leg (in a karate kind of way), trying to balance, with his arms outstretched, laughing ... "kowa bunga dude". Wondering if he was warm enough, tucking his blanket about him. This time of year brought the Canadian Geese, which he delighted in especially; calling out with upturned face to the sky "honk honk", while running to try to keep pace. Zacha especially LOVED his brothers and sisters. This is where he found his truest comfort as he was getting 'bigger'. 
Today I turn my face to the sky above The Chesapeake Bay, which was his most favorite place to be,  his home, put on my favorite lipstick, and blow a kiss to our beloved. 
 He was 4 years old. Casket's shouldn't come so small. 

I believe in monsters now

I never did believe in monster's. Only fairies, good witches, happy leprechauns, and such. Now, I know the truth is: there are monster's. Human form, whom  freeze one's soul with deliberate harm. Nothing freezes the heart as hard and fast as the horrors folks intentionally inflict upon one another. Whether it be physical, emotional, and/or financial. I trusted someone whom never deserved my trust. He snicker's, feeling he got me, hurt me...and it is true. He has/are doing these things. Why? Raise his sticks and cry? I suppose stirring the pot suits him. He is putting forth a great deal of effort to continue to cause pain. Sheesh...hasn't he done enough? When will he be satisfied? What will it take? Is my living a good life eating him up inside? Take some more pills Ed, or drink another 18 pack, you'll feel normal again. I just don't know. It is a tortured path to choose to take. Is he angry that he shook the whore tree, and a housewife didn't fall out? Lol!
I lost my own reflection, for many a year. Became a lifeless shell of a woman based on fear alone. Terror, illness, deliberate sabotage of me financially, kept me still and silent for so very long. Though it is still misty, and veiled... I'm beginning to see myself again. I so wish that he would simply stop. Leave me alone. Just stop.
I am grateful for the folks that have fallen into my lap, since I walked out of hell. I leave Ed; and tons (well not tons), of decent, thoughtful, helpful, understanding people have been becoming part of my life. I think to myself; and I wasted all those years believing a lewd, malicious liar. My god, how stupid could I be? Can ya tell? I'm not feeling so positive right now. I feel as though I am being pushed to fight back. The fight has left me. I am happy with who I am, and whom I'm not. I don't want to be any part of hurting anyone, no matter what they've done to me. I know the pain far too well, which makes me cringe at pushing back. Yet, its survival at this point. So be it. Damn.

Tall

He was/is a tall man, though short on integrity. I kept insisting he was a good man, and minimizing the horror. He loved me. As much as he was capable; which was quite shallow in the end. I adored him, I thought. In truth, though; I was in fear. I always took such good care of him, while he sabotaged my life in it's entirety for twenty some years. He is lost and sick with tremendous amounts of drugs and alcohol. I went crazy from anguish and despair. Enormous amounts! Now he appears, old and bent. Devil spent. Clearly running out of time. Nothing, but nothing took priority above drugs, beer and whiskey. He feels that he's riding high...but from here; it looks like he's sinking. Not swimming. I am not at all gloating, for I loved this man at one time, and I shall probably love him in some form for the remaining of my days. It's a full moon on this October night. I guess I'm a tad melancholy. For my lil' Zachary, and my lost man. Think I'll go sway in the moonbeams tonight. Breathe in the night....

Dancin' and dancin'

I so love to dance! Though I'm much older now...I still love to dance. Dance in the streets (except when I'm on 'house arrest' *lol*), driveway, grocery stores, gas stations (though in the grocery stores & gas stations; many times it is a pee-pee dance *giggle*), on the bulkhead, in fields, beaches, forests, piers, at home all by myself and just everywhere. It is good. Not necessarily the dancing itself, by younger standards. Yet, it is good. Dancing makes me smile (especially if looking in the mirror hehehe). It's not that I don't care what others may think of me. I do. It's just the way I see life in general, I suppose. This IS me and my life, and I desire to enjoy as much as I am able. This is the opposite of my sorrow. Do I veil my sorrow with laughter? You betcha! And so what if I do? Truly. So what if I do? I don't think I need to 'fix' it. To relive or pour out my sorrow (although I partake on occasion). On the contrary...I need to pour out my joy in equal amounts. I flow with the earth's music. I hear it and I sway. I listen to music on electronic devices as well. Rather than trembling in anguish.  I am a grateful woman. I have lost so very much, and yet I find that it's okay too. I am still learning. Sometimes I feel as though I've been left behind; on the loading dock of life. I think, well I'll get tap dancing shoes to take advantage of the space and echoes! A whole new adventure. I am a goof. I know it only too well. I forgive myself. N'est pas?

"Suffer not my eyes to hunger for your face"

I was sitting on the bulkhead yesterday and saw a tall ship off in the distance, and I pretended for just an instant; that I was a native...and how frightening and glorious that must have been to see. Because I knew what it was, I found it to be a lovely sight. Much like what I've been going through these past twelve months. Frightening and glorious simultaneously. I walked out on my twenty year marriage. Jumped into the void; empty handed. I have no regrets. I disappeared into the person I was in love with. I lost me in him. I took vows: until death do us part, in sickness and in health. I broke these vows in order to save my own life. This is my guilt. I had been grieving because this is a death. The death of our life together. "Suffer not my eyes to hunger for your face". It was not a garment I cast off, but my skin; that I tore off with my own hands. Nor was it a thought I left behind me; but a heart. Only one loving look cast backward. The day of my parting; has also been my day of gathering. That eve, was in truth: my dawn.

The waves of the sea have separated us now, and the years you have spent in my midst became a memory. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by my own understanding of love......

LOL! I just now found my old blog today....So, much has happened since January 4, 2011. So very much...and I am finally reasonably at peace for the first time in ...let's say 30 some years. Game over. I am no longer imprisoned in an abusive marriage of 20 years.  Yay! I walked out October 25, 2012. I am so grateful. Gee, I walk out on Ed, and SO many amazing folks drop into my lap. Amazing.

I love October. I love it. It makes me want to cook all the time. I'm getting ready to cook some glazed carrots, leftover chicken with horseradish sauce, and colcannon (cabbage, potatoes, onion & bacon all mashed up together) for my son Tre, and grandson; Jayden. Oh, Jayden and I made pear oatmeal cookies yesterday.

Well, I'm fairly boring today...so, I'm off for now. Poof!