We Must Go Boldly into the Darkness and be the Light
At our vet fair last week, Stephen and I wandered around to make introductions and network towards the end. I knew there was a service dog trainer there and I saw the pups under the table. I went over and began to introduce myself. Her face moved in what must have been confusion and she looked over my right shoulder and before I could speak she asked "Who died?" I almost choked up, but didn't. I just said "which one?" because there have been so many. She said that I had an angel and I just pointed at Stephen and said "I think it's him." My angel, that is. She turned to Stephen and asked him about my "good energy." Y'all, I really don't know which one she felt. Nanny? Daddy? Jay? I got me a few angels. She may have just been insane, but I believe she believed what she said because she'd have to be a psycho to train her face to make that exact expression if she really did understand what she was looking at.
I couldn't sleep. I'd hoped maybe for a drive-by distraction. I'm less smart than I ought to be sometimes. I was in the safest place I've ever been last night and I was grateful for that and for being able to share it with the people I could.
I think I'm relieved. I don't want there to be confusion. I can't even write. I remember 2015. I remember 2016. This feels the same because it's another situation where we are fighting for a thing that our Puritan King James roots can't process. Sure, 5,000 years ago, a woman could not be suffered to speak. But she was not permitted scholarship or education or worldliness. She was not us. And the world had made us. God has made us. I'd prefer to be ignorant and quiet. We don't have that luxury anymore.
I am here. I am safe. I am a safe place. I forgot to take my meds until just now. In my heart I knew before I got out of bed this morning. I lingered, waiting for my alarm clock not wanting to look. I knew. I knew and I'm so tired that I couldn't even grieve. This year has been so filled with grief that I'm desensitized.
I went to bed shortly before 1:00 and I knew before I went to bed that they would be the same thing as 2016 when I woke up in the morning and I was afraid. But we survived it once and we will again. My greatest fear is the unknown and this is not the unknown no matter how terrible it is.
I'm so sorry to my international friends. We have let the entire world down. In my head I keep hearing "experience robbed me of hope." I still love America but I do not recognize her this morning.
We had a surprise visitor at the shop. I was on the floor with Stephen while he taught me how to remove a primary cover and replace the stator on a Harley. I had my hair in braided pigtails and my "Nobody's Darling" hat on, grease on my knees, dust all over my jeans, no makeup, trying hard to listen, learn, and do. The he popped around the edge of the bay door. Sunlight and wearing that color of protection, all dimples and a welcome face. I'm sure my face said it all. I'd told Stephen I hadn't heard from him in a few days and there he was. Stephen makes these things happen. I got up and went to him and hugged him hard.
And another surprise visitor. My two "cases" at the shop, unexpected and in the same small window. I've taken on a few more in my tenure, but those were my first that were all to myself. I kind of love that they got to meet each other. One is coming back by the shop today to get some help with paperwork. And honestly, I'd hoped he would. Because my ass needs a hug.
I was given this caution, to be careful not to get too attached. Twice inside a week, the same words differently. Don't be surprised when they leave. I think that's what it means to parent though and I feel that way about them so often. I hope that most of them will do what parenting done well means. I hope they'll spread their little broken wings and finally fly. One I hope stays. We'll see. Hope is my greatest masochism.
This may be another post that sits as draft forever. My very first boyfriend pops into my inbox this evening. Nanny thought he was so good-looking with his black hair and blue eyes, still pale as me: Brazilian. Both of us always had a weakness for a man from closer to the equator. Never weak enough to be stupid.
I'm here in my chair: the replacement because I let my favorite old chair go with the house and the husband and the whole past I knew. This damn thing hurts my butt. Blake called me all the way out when I told him that I did it because if the chair were less comfortable and inviting, I'd be less likely sit on it. And he made the point that it was nuts for someone who's rarely still to deprive myself of an object that makes me feel comfortable and safe because it makes me feel too comfortable and safe. Fine. Okay. But that won't bring my old chair back or make my butt feel less numb. Lessons.
I guess I better go shower and clean up my face. I will continue to do the things that I do in my community every day to make it a better place. And keep doing it. And that's all that any of us can do right now. And I know that you all will each do it.
I couldn't sleep. I'd hoped maybe for a drive-by distraction. I'm less smart than I ought to be sometimes. I was in the safest place I've ever been last night and I was grateful for that and for being able to share it with the people I could.
I think I'm relieved. I don't want there to be confusion. I can't even write. I remember 2015. I remember 2016. This feels the same because it's another situation where we are fighting for a thing that our Puritan King James roots can't process. Sure, 5,000 years ago, a woman could not be suffered to speak. But she was not permitted scholarship or education or worldliness. She was not us. And the world had made us. God has made us. I'd prefer to be ignorant and quiet. We don't have that luxury anymore.
I am here. I am safe. I am a safe place. I forgot to take my meds until just now. In my heart I knew before I got out of bed this morning. I lingered, waiting for my alarm clock not wanting to look. I knew. I knew and I'm so tired that I couldn't even grieve. This year has been so filled with grief that I'm desensitized.
I went to bed shortly before 1:00 and I knew before I went to bed that they would be the same thing as 2016 when I woke up in the morning and I was afraid. But we survived it once and we will again. My greatest fear is the unknown and this is not the unknown no matter how terrible it is.
I'm so sorry to my international friends. We have let the entire world down. In my head I keep hearing "experience robbed me of hope." I still love America but I do not recognize her this morning.
We had a surprise visitor at the shop. I was on the floor with Stephen while he taught me how to remove a primary cover and replace the stator on a Harley. I had my hair in braided pigtails and my "Nobody's Darling" hat on, grease on my knees, dust all over my jeans, no makeup, trying hard to listen, learn, and do. The he popped around the edge of the bay door. Sunlight and wearing that color of protection, all dimples and a welcome face. I'm sure my face said it all. I'd told Stephen I hadn't heard from him in a few days and there he was. Stephen makes these things happen. I got up and went to him and hugged him hard.
And another surprise visitor. My two "cases" at the shop, unexpected and in the same small window. I've taken on a few more in my tenure, but those were my first that were all to myself. I kind of love that they got to meet each other. One is coming back by the shop today to get some help with paperwork. And honestly, I'd hoped he would. Because my ass needs a hug.
I was given this caution, to be careful not to get too attached. Twice inside a week, the same words differently. Don't be surprised when they leave. I think that's what it means to parent though and I feel that way about them so often. I hope that most of them will do what parenting done well means. I hope they'll spread their little broken wings and finally fly. One I hope stays. We'll see. Hope is my greatest masochism.
This may be another post that sits as draft forever. My very first boyfriend pops into my inbox this evening. Nanny thought he was so good-looking with his black hair and blue eyes, still pale as me: Brazilian. Both of us always had a weakness for a man from closer to the equator. Never weak enough to be stupid.
I'm here in my chair: the replacement because I let my favorite old chair go with the house and the husband and the whole past I knew. This damn thing hurts my butt. Blake called me all the way out when I told him that I did it because if the chair were less comfortable and inviting, I'd be less likely sit on it. And he made the point that it was nuts for someone who's rarely still to deprive myself of an object that makes me feel comfortable and safe because it makes me feel too comfortable and safe. Fine. Okay. But that won't bring my old chair back or make my butt feel less numb. Lessons.
I guess I better go shower and clean up my face. I will continue to do the things that I do in my community every day to make it a better place. And keep doing it. And that's all that any of us can do right now. And I know that you all will each do it.
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