It's Mother's Day.
I'll be spending my first Mother's Day as a single mom at work without my Marble's. I am making it a point to get up earlier than normal, drive to his condo and go to lunch with them. I am going to bask in those few hours I have with each one of them because they are what keep me waking up every day. I know that there is no way I could ever leave my Blue Marble without me. I know that there is no one else who can scoop up Yellow Marble and baby talk her and still to this day, nine years later, convince her that she is still a "tiny baby". I've referred to her as a tiny baby ever since the day she was born. I could never leave Pink Marble because I am her biggest cheerleader. There is no one else on this planet who has the faith in her that I do. No one else who believes in her ability to accomplish great things like I do. She is so incredibly gifted and I wake up each day wondering what amazing thing she will accomplish in the the world.
But, they're the only thing that keeps me going right now. I feel like a big engine on a steam train that has been screeching to a halt for months and metal on metal is piercing my ear drums but I can't stop. I want to stop. Everything in me is telling me to give up; to press the breaks a little bit harder and just stop. But I keep chugging along. It's by no means fun. In fact, it's been quite depressing. Sometimes I think I am fooling those around me but I get the messages that say, "I'm worried about you." or "Go talk to someone." I am fielding questions and looking for answers that I have no idea about. I get asked how I'm doing and I lie because does it even matter? The person who has made me feel like this doesn't care how I'm feeling so explaining to anyone how I feel on any given day will just be the same redundant crap that I have been saying for months. Honestly, I feel like shit. I feel like I am a walking open wound. An infected one. That's all pussy and crusty around the edges. I feel like I look like that too. So, it's difficult to conduct myself in a way that is pleasant and fun to be around when I have this gaping hole dead center in my chest.
The other night I was sitting on the couch talking to Pink Marble. She told me she misses me when she is at his condo. It was the first time she expressed an emotion like that to me in a long time. I started crying and told her how much I missed her when she is gone. She was consoling me. My 12 year old was telling me it was going to be ok. Somehow, she already knows that it's going to be ok and I don't. She has somehow seen into the future and can tell me that I am going to be ok even though I am convinced I will never be ok. It's amazing to me how my Marble's have handled this divorce. They have gone through a lot of changes in their lives. But they hang on. They look for the good in situations. They look for the good in other people. People they shouldn't look for the good in they do. Is that a reflection on how I've raised them? That even though that woman has so painfully and mercilessly driven a wedge between our family, these Marble's (well two of them) can find good in her??
When the Marble's were younger and we lived in Michigan and we had the influence of family around I was always doted on for my creative ways for redirecting bad behavior and being able to use words to express what I wanted my Marble's to do instead of actions. And, I would tell the Marble's the same things. "Use your words," I'd tell them when they'd come to me whining about something "Put on your listening ears." I'd say and with a smug look on their face they'd reach their hands to their ears and twist as if they were putting on "listening" ears. When they would hit each other I'd take their little chubby hands and brush it over their sisters arm and say, "Nice touches." Those little things I did with them when they were little were seen as great alternatives to spanking or time outs. I never agreed with spanking and time outs weren't anything that I was a fan of, so I always tried to redirect the behavior. Even when the Marble's would fall, they'd look at me about to cry and I'd start clapping my hands and act all happy and immediately their demeanor would change and the tears would disappear and they'd get right back up and press on.
I need to press on, too, don't I? I want to but my thinking is the person who was my cheerleader, the man who stood up and clapped for me when I fell has left and I'm laying here on the ground listening for that positive energy and it's not coming.
Whenever my friend ends her messages with me she writes, "You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have." Somehow I have managed to be strong enough to get me through this far and my Marble's have shown tremendous strength. Because, she's right. Right now, being strong IS the only choice I have.
Fuck.
No comments:
Post a Comment