I keep meaning to, I have been gardening, landscaping my front and back yard, even quilting some. But I haven't the mindset to write about it. I don't even feel the same about it, while I am doing it. I feel I've lacked enthusiasm in most things these days.
I think its because I have stopped dreaming.
I didn't mean to, I tried to keep going, but I just cant. I cannot pretend to have a dream anymore, how can I?
The only person that believed in me and my dream is dead. Gone. Up in the heavens, healed and perfect in her own little federal style house with a wrap around porch, she sits drinking lemonade, awaiting her family. I am down here in this horrible earth waiting for life to start again. Waiting to find myself again, my dreams, my passion, my zest!
It is true when they say, you can never go home again. See my mother was my home. It gave me contentment and stability to know that no matter how much I messed up, I could always go back to my mamma. She always would take me back and love me no matter what. For a while after she died, I would go back to her home, that she poured so much of herself into, and I would feel her, like her heart was beating within the walls and I would feel safe again, just a little bit. SHE WAS STILL THERE. But now I cannot go there to feel her, she isn't there anymore, her heart beat is drowned out by another, squished with piles of mess and random items that remind me my mamma is no longer here. She is gone. So I have no home now.
Two weeks after my mamma passed I moved into a new neighborhood, a new house. I have not felt welcome here, its like living in a huge high school, everyone talks about you behind your back (usually mine) and I am not welcomed in the cool people group. I of course am fine with that. But there is a sense of loneliness to not having neighborly neighbors. Putting the neighborhood aside, the house itself has never felt like home to me. The minute we signed settlement papers my husband lost his job, and we have never been able to fix up the house. So renovating it to feel like home has never happened. I cannot seem to ever get it clean enough, and everywhere I turn I see the touch of another woman, not my own. I feel like a visitor in my own house.
Then back to the neighborhood, its a scream session after the next. I didn't know people could curse and shout at their little three year olds, let alone someone else, until I moved here. And after being here around that example for nearly two years I find myself shouting at my own little blessings. For I am frustrated, and it has become NORMALIZED. Before you get alarmed, I am working on this, seeking therapy, and praying regularly for patience and guidance in these things.
Why am I frustrated? Frustrated enough to shout at my BLESSINGS? my ONLY JOYS? Because I am lost. I don't normally like rap, but 2pac has a song called " Thugz Mansion" and there are lyrics which really touch on how I am feeling, they are quoted
" all I could see was my momma's eyes
No one knows my struggle, they only see the trouble
Not knowin it's hard to carry on when no one loves you
Picture me inside the misery of poverty
No man alive has ever witnessed struggles I survived
Prayin hard for better days, promise to hold on
Me and my dawgs ain't have a choice but to roll on
Its my husband that likes rap, he had this on one day and hearing those lyrics made me nearly burst into tears. Who would have thought that a man like 2pac could speak the words that echo my soul.
See, I can hear some people now say to me "I'm here if you need me" and I think they mean it with love, but they don't MEAN it. Nobody wants to take on the troubles, the commitment, the responsibility of loving and caring and catching of a grown woman with kids of her own. Only a mother would do that!
and mine, who so wanted to, more then anything.....cannot.
So I'm stuck in this abyss of darkness without my mother. Trying to figure out how to move forward in my life without her. Make changes, chase my dreams, DREAM.
Mom and me 1982.
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