Our Eyes

Last night MTL was teasing me and I was teasing back in a faux-pouty sort of way, when he suddenly pulled back, looked at me askance, and said, Uh, hello there, DramaBoy!

Apparently I was using the exact facial expression, exact words, exact look as the sort that DramaBoy pulls out from time to time.

There's a reason I call him my mini-me. It's not just his physical appearance, though that alone causes commentary everywhere we go. Our temperaments are nearly identical (thus the fulfillment of my mother's curse) (have I apologized lately, Mom and Dad? I AM SO SORRY) and the source of many of our conflicts. Odd how two strong-willed, quick-tempered, ridiculously stubborn people will spark off each other.

I will say this: his eyes are no longer purely mine. They used to be. Now, while they're still hazel, they've become brown-hazel rather than green-grey-hazel. They've become much more like his father's over the last year or so. Still, when I look into his eyes--I see myself.

And it scares the sh*t out of me.

You see, I was broken for so very, very long. I was tormented by my dragons for nearly thirty years, and I lost the battles until I forgot how to fight. And while there were outside forces and trauma that I experienced that I pray God will never be part of DramaBoy's life, still I wonder how much of my life was simply the path I took as the person I am.

And I can't (and won't) "blame" my parents. No parents are perfect, but to this day I place no blame on mine for the broken road I traveled. They were and are amazing people, amazing parents. MTL is already starting to get a certain smile when I reference them, because I do it so very often. We don't agree on everything, my parents and I, but I respect them deeply.

So what does that mean for me? I struggle every day with parenting practice. I feel like I'm trying to catch up from years of being out of touch, correct countless bad habits (both mine and the children's), and piece together the puzzle that is parenting.  MTL helps. He's been doing this longer than I have, including the single parenting gig. But ultimately he can't and won't tell me what decisions I must make for my children.

What if it's too late? What if my son is already heading down a path similar to the one I trod? For all the love and growth and beauty that has come to me at this point in the road, I would never ever wish that journey for my son. I would never desire for him the pain and despair and brokenness I experienced.

I can't live his life for him. I can't protect him from all harm. But I cannot help but feel tremendous fear.

Because when I look into his eyes...

All I can see is that broken road.

Perhaps

I know I've been gone a while, and I know there's plenty I could write about, but plainly put I'm just Too Damn Busy. Papers to grade, paperwork to complete (both for work and the personal life), exams to create, errands to run, a divorce to finalize.

Which is where this quickie post comes in. Tomorrow morning at 8:30 Eastern time, The Ex and I will be entering the court room for what (knockonwoodcrossyourfingerspleasedearGodplease) will hopefully be our final appearance and the finalization of our divorce. We're getting along quite well right now, so there isn't all sorts of tension, but we both just want to be done with all this legal crap and move on. So please hold me/us in your thoughts and prayers, and hopefully tomorrow I'll be able to post a follow-up informing you that I am, in fact, Done With That.

I'll see you...maybe...on the other side.

"my prayer": a mother's day poem

my precious child
you grow so swiftly
so soon beyond what i have known
racing through each day
a brilliant flame of pure and vivid life

i stand
and watch
and since i cannot halt these fleeting moments
i bow my head
and pray

i pray for you strength
of spirit as well as body

i pray for you mercy
for self as well as others

i pray for you friendship
of soul as well as play

i pray for you success
in mind as well as pocket

i pray for you wisdom
in small as well as great

i pray for you joy
in hardship as well as ease

i pray for you faith
in God as well as humanity

i pray for you love
in friends, in family, in future beloved

i pray for you
all the blessings of this life
and eternity in the next

and that you should always know
the depth
the breadth
of my love for you

Twitch

I am limited in options and choices and actions at the moment, and the anxiety wells up in my chest and chokes my breath momentarily. A tell-tale muscle twitches at the corner of an eye. My neck is tense. My hands are shaky. My tongue stumbles and trips over words.

The stress is rising to the surface.

One month from today I appear in court to, hopefully, finalize the termination of a marriage that no longer exists in anything but legality. There are still is to be dotted and ts to be crossed, discussions to have and decisions to make, finances to analyze and a settlement to complete. The unknowing swaths my mind in confusion, uncertainty, indecision. I yearn for the finality, the end to this in-between time, yet blanch at the thought of what must be accomplished in that time.

One month, but in that one month we must determine the pattern of years. We must accommodate the inevitable changes: solidify some areas while including flexibility. We hope for the best and plan for the worst. We navigate the minefield of negotiations, building the fragile scaffold that must sustain us through a lifetime of working together as parents of our beloved sons.

My world is filled with uncertainty these days. Some decisions, like those made while negotiating this settlement, are somewhat within my control. But only somewhat. Others--like those made by the Powers That Be who are even now determining what my economic reality will be in my career, my workplace, my doctor's office, my dentist's office, my retirement--are in the hands of people I do not trust. Those who crave power are rarely those who should have it; those placed in positions of power are too often corrupted by it.

There are so few rocks upon which I can stand. I cling to my God, hold to my beloveds, and trust that some way, somehow, certainty will come in its time.

I twitch, and breathe, and struggle to focus on the next step I must take.

One thing at a time.

Split/Second

On Friday, just after school let out, one of my tenth graders tried to do a backflip in the hallway. He was not successful. His neck was broken in two places. By a true miracle, the bones that should have broken and cut off his airway were flicked back into place when his head bounced.

He should have died.

As it is, he is lying in intensive care, scheduled for surgery today, with no feeling from the neck down. He cannot make sounds, but is awake, alert, and mouthing words. He was able to move a hand, although he could not feel himself doing so, or the sensation of his sister holding that hand.

On Saturday about fifty students showed up to visit him. When his sister told him they were there and asked if he would like to see them, he mouthed to her, Send in the ladies. 

I laughed when I heard that story. That is so him.

My class, the one he's in, cannot send cards or flowers or anything while he is in the ICU. So they scrawled messages of love on the white board, gathered in front of it, and posed for a cell phone picture which is being sent to his family. His sister holds the cell phone up for him to see all the messages and pictures pouring in, the love sent his and their way.

It only takes a split second. One decision made, one moment of youthful exuberance. We pray he will recover fully, but there's no way to know right now. In the meantime, we're left reeling in the wake, struggling to grasp what happened, thanking God for miracles, praying for the doctors who hold his body in their hands, praying to the Master Healer who holds his future in His hands.