15 Years Ago Today

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I was lying face down in my own vomit in cardiac arrest, moments from death. In a little while they would be cutting open my stomach to remove the 7 month old infant that was living inside of me. The body that had been her sanctuary for 7 months was failing and if she wasn't removed, she would certainly die. All 2 lbs of her was taken from me within seconds, but it would be six more weeks before I even knew. 

Six more weeks of she and I both fighting for our lives.

Six more weeks of waiting and uncertainty.

Six more weeks of my 1 yr old son asking, "When Mommy was going to wake up?"

Six long weeks. 

Summer is rough for me. Lots of memories. My son was born in June and my daughter in August. Today. It makes me wonder what type of young adults they have become. No longer are they the little beings that live in my memories. They have thoughts and opinions all their own and I wonder what they are.

It's been almost six years since I last spoke to her. Since I last heard her laughter. Since I last wiped her tears. I don't write about them to gain your sympathy or to make you feel sorry for me. I accept the consequences of my actions and I wait for the day when she is a mother herself and maybe a bit more understanding. I write so they know I didn't forget them. I never stopped loving them. I write so one day they'll have something tangible to look at and know that even though miles and oceans separated us, they never left my heart.

Road Traveled Upon

The glow of the computer monitor is the only light in the house. Every one is fast asleep. The only sound is the crickets who are singing their nighttime lullabies. In the silence and the darkness, I take a moment to look back. To look at where I have come from, where I am now, and how far I have traveled. Not just distance but within myself. While I have many regrets, I have learned so much.

I have learned an inner strength that I didn't know I had. I have learned about universes and planets that I never knew existed. Visited alien worlds and learnt what it means to be humbled. However as the days pass the pain of regret dulls. It stops twisting within. Stops turning and rumbling. Stops raging and clawing and I become complacent within myself.

Until the shock comes. And it always comes in those moments when the darkness is darkest and the night is quietest. Moments when I least expect it. Moments when I begin to feel that I am almost whole. They jump out from the dark corners and grab me. They pull me back down into the pits of the abyss. Throwing me here and there. Tearing at me. Clawing, biting, riping. Leaving me naked and exposed. When I finally reach the bottom, I lie there and silent tears find their way into existance.

As I lie there, I wonder if the abyss will ever let go of me or if it will forever have a hand on me. Grabbing me, using me when its bored and then tossing me aside when another shiny plaything comes along. The abyss is unforgiving. Its silence deafening. If only it were bottomless then I could fall forever and never have to worry about it spitting me back out only to drag me back into it once again.

I walk the earth wearing invisible chains. Some days they are heavy. Others they seem lighter. Their constant metal clang is a reminder that at any moment the pit could open and into the darkness I will plunge.

Culture Shock

no this is not me

I often wonder about what it will be like that first moment. So many years have passed and living overseas has changed me so much. I wonder if there will be that connection between us. If the things I taught to them when they were little will still be buried away somewhere within theirselves or if it has simply disappeared. 

Days like today make me very contemplative in regards to my children. So much time has passed and there is so much that I wish for them to know, but they have been raised in that backwoods redneck small town mindset. I know because that is how I was raised, but the fact that I was able to see beyond that gives me hope that maybe some day they will too. 

Days like today make me regretful for the time that I have lost with them but also thankful for the lessons that I learned during my journey. I have gained so much understanding not only about the world and its people, but more importantly about myself. However that brings about extreme guilt. How can I feel any happiness about the journey that has taken me far from my children? Yet the journey is what has made me a better person. A person that I hope they will one day be proud of. A person that someday they will at least consider a friend if nothing else. 

Days like today are bittersweet. They should be joyous, but they are tainted with the sourness of knowing that it is a sweetness my children have yet to taste. I hope someday I will be able to share it with them.

13th Rajab