Blow Your House Down

Some days are just more of the same. A repeat of yesterday’s troubles. The same challenges. The same let downs. The same uncertainty you can’t seem to sequester. Some days are so damn hard you can’t muster the strength to face the next one without a trace of apathy and misanthropy. Some days, most days lately, I wonder at the tragedy of it all. I wonder how it is that anyone could ever feel hopeful about the world. Not when life for so many is at the expense of someone else’s happiness. Not when the choices some people make are motivated by fear and hatred. And not when all that fear and all that anger hits so close to home. Right in your home. It is then when you can feel the walls splintering all that surrounds you, the air twisting and twirling every last bit of innocence into oblivion. It is then when you just wish the world would stop. Disappear. Fade away to nothing, along with everything but what you know of love. Not what has merely disguised itself as love. But, rather, pure love.

And this I have known only with my kids. They are everything to me and I will stop at nothing to protect them. I recognize a wolf when I see one and I’ve even been forced to share a roof with some. No huffing and puffing required. These wolves have just walked right in, done as they pleased, and stolen what wasn’t theirs for the taking. Those evil, self-serving bastards. What right do they have to lure away someone else’s innocence? What right have they to convince a child to do grown up things while cloaked in sheepskin? If, by some miracle, there is a firey pit called hell where transgressors go to be punished once they leave this world, it would please me to know that these miscreants, members of my own family, will be getting what they deserve. And if, more than likely in my opinion, such a place does not exist, then I do like to think that the Universe has a way of evening the score while teaching us all the lessons we’ve yet to master. Sometimes I think sudden death would be the best anecdote yet for such troubled individuals. What purpose have they in this world anyway? Could any of the good they do possibly outweigh all of the harmful, despicable things they do too? Furthermore, how is it possible that I could be related to such scum of the Earth? People who could even think about taking advantage of a child and using them to fulfill some perverse fantasy. What the fuck is wrong with the world that this could even be a reality? And why must I be a part of it?

I guess I’m just feeling a little unsettled about things today.

The Devil Wears a Pinstripe Suit

The devil wears a pinstripe suit.
He watches us through the window
of our room.
The devil’s in me
The devil’s in you
The devil’s in the dirty deeds
that we do.

He’s the grin on a
lustful stranger,
A baby born to a virgin
in a manger.
He feeds on lies and hypocrisy,
He’s mirrored in your stare when
you don’t like what you see.

He’s the man
lending a helpful hand,
The maître d’ offering comfort
in a foreign land.
Behind your eyes
after saying goodnight,
He will be waiting.

He will wait outside your doorstep,
He will wait in the back of your car.
He will wait while you go back in to get
that thing
that you couldn’t forget
because you swear
you wouldn’t go far.

He’s the angel
hovering above you,
Watching you closely through the glass
that was smashed
after you crashed
what was left
of all you thought mattered.

Now the devil
is all but a
of a most beautiful,

Not by Chance, but by Love

This evening I was sitting and chatting with my son, who is 6-years old. He was counting all of my moles and decided that I must have over a hundred. Then he told me about all six of his, the “cutest” one being on his pinky finger. I insisted that the one on his face right below his left eye is my personal favorite. Then I asked him how he got to be so cute. He pointed at me, explaining that I’m the reason he’s so adorable. That makes sense, I agreed, “I did, after all, make you.” Holy shit! I then reflected. I made him!! That shit is crazy! (Not that I wasn’t already aware of this.) He’s so big and so smart and so delightful and fun. And I’m responsible for bringing all of that into the world. I’ve always wanted to make the world a better place. And through my children, I already have. They certainly make my world much more fulfilling and enjoyable. I can’t imagine life without them. So here’s a little story of how their journey into this chaotic world began.

Their dad and I met when we were in the 8th grade. I was 13-years old. I can remember the first day I ever laid eyes on him. We were in the same science class together with Mr. E. It sounds unbelievable, I’m sure, to anyone who’s never experienced anything like this, but it was in that moment that I heard a calm, low voice say, “That’s the man you’re going to marry”. I wasn’t entirely convinced at the time. I mean, what the hell did I know?!  We were YEARS away from being at that point in our lives and plus I didn’t even know the kid!  But as time went on and I did begin to get acquainted with him, I fell pretty hard for the jock who managed to go for a nerd like me.

Throughout high school and then college we went on to have our share of ups and downs. I can’t tell you how many times I broke up with him.  I would often fall for other guys because I didn’t feel like he understood me. But then, we were so young, I think I was also still trying to understand myself.  He was jealous and insecure, which I thought was just an implication of how much he really loved me (wrong). And so I’d go back to him, assured that no one else could love me the way he did (again, wrong). Because here’s what I learned 16 years later: we were both perhaps too young and dumb to know what true love is all about.

When it comes to true love, the kind that is deep and eternal, you have to be willing and able to see your partner for all that they are and embrace them, flaws and all.  You also have to be willing to be honest and able to grow together.  While I did go on to marry the boy I met that day in the 8th grade, after all our years together, he never really seemed to take the time to get to know me fully.  He wasn’t interested in the totality of me, just the parts of me he approved of, denying that there was so much more below the surface incomprehensible to his depthless mind.  But I could not be who he wanted me to be and he couldn’t be anything more than who he was.

So alas, after 7 years, our marriage met its end. But not before creating two beautiful children who have convinced me that destiny is, in fact, what brought their father and I together. Because were it not for him and all of the choices and strong emotional ties that kept bringing us back together, our children wouldn’t be here. We made them, but it feels more like they were made for me. I don’t know if the voice I heard was “real”, meaning that it came from an alternate source. But I do know how real it felt. I’m not sure whether our love was ever real, meaning void of ego, but surely we had our moments. One thing I do know is how real my love is for my kids and how incredibly lucky I am to be able to say that I’m their mom and yes, I made them.

miss you

I miss you in the morning
I miss you in the day
I miss you in the quiet
when there are no words to say.

I miss you in the springtime
I miss you in the fall
I miss you in the sleep of winter
and when I wake most of all.