Take her home, tonight.

I feel like she is leaving tonight. I feel like when I wake up in the morning she will be gone. Tonight I washed her hair. She wanted me, she needed me. She refused all offers of food, a soup, a potato, a can of her prescription diet, a milkshake, a jar of baby food. I managed to get one teaspoon of baby food in her mouth. But she couldn’t swallow it. She wanted nothing of that.

But she was agitated and upset and she needed me. I said yes mommy, what do you need, show me. And she led me to her room, to her bathroom, where she knelt on the floor beside her tub. Inside the tub she had a bucket and a jug. She tried to fill the bucket with water, and as she waited for it to grow warm, she struggled with her shirt, off over her head. I folded it for her, whilst I watched and waited patiently, I too sat on my knees. The water didn’t get warm, and I saw she had the cold tap on, and the warm one was closed. I changed the taps’ direction and warm water gushed into the bucket, where I then realized she didn’t have shampoo ready. She wanted me to wash her hair.

I felt her whispy white hair with my fingers, it was clean. I rubbed my fingers on her scalp and she closed her eyes and smiled. She leant forward and I poured the first jug of warm water over her head. Her hair is so thin, it took three small jugs for it to be totally saturated, to the scalp. Her pink scalp shone through like a delicate slip underneath a silver dress. A smidgeon of shampoo was all that it took to lather her whole head.

She closed her eyes, and I began to pray, aware of this feeling of loss. I felt like she is leaving tonight. I felt as if my fingers could never touch her again in this way, in this intimate way, that she washed my hair as a girl, that I now wash her hair for her. When it was time to rinse it off, she smiled at me, this gaping smile, her sapphires are still so blue, and she covered her eyes with a face cloth.

 I poured warm water and again I prayed. Take her now. Sweet Lord Jesus. Do not allow her to suffer. Take her tonight whilst she sleeps, underneath the cotton sheets of home. Take her before her body wastes away more than it already has. Take her before they give her antibiotics, and medicines, to fight infections. Take her before this winter comes and her chest hurts from the sensation of drowning within her own skin.  Take her before her unsteady gait causes a fall and the break of another bone. Take her before her hunger destroys her will to live. Take her when she is crying, and we’re unable to console her.

 She walks around crying, this howling, like an unhappy baby. Daddy handles it with laughter, he does the best that he can, he jumps to her every need. But he’s frantic. He eats his meals that I put on his plate, like an outlaw, marooned to eat solid food, whilst his wife chokes on water.

I can’t help but feel He will take her tonight.

11-27-15

8:24pm

Things

I don't want the things that are bought
I want the things that are made:
the things that experience unearths, polishes and refines.
I want the plateau of joy that comes only after extreme pain,
the satisfaction after feeling that you could never overcome, yet you did.
The sentiment where you hold my hand in the dark.
Your hot breath on my neck as we sleep.
I want to see the faces of those who overcame.
Who overcame this harshness and were not broken by it.
Who were treated with such brutality and contempt,
yet who somehow grew in depth and humility from it all.
I want to stand by those people who give more than they take.
Who know more than they choose to say.
Who are more than you could ever pretend to be,
Who refuse to be invisible, although you discredit them.

I choose love

I choose love, when others practice fear
I choose similarities, when others practice separation
I choose factual, when others practice hysteria
I choose specific, when others practice generalities,
I choose togetherness, when others practice distance,
I choose understanding, when others practice selfishness
I choose support, when others practice retreat
I choose forgiveness, when others practice hate
I choose transparency, when others practice a guise
I choose the life that I live, I choose to open my eyes.

Paint fume inspired recollection of almost a year spent single.

I try not to fall over the pumpkins as I paint my new front door Mata Hari purple. Look, it seemed like a great idea at the time: strode confidently into the Home Depot and demanded some of Behr's finest indoor/ outdoor glass like finish enamel paint in this aubergine hue. Now I am wondering if perhaps the seasons do influence my colour choices, and if I will be repainting again in the spring. The choice in paint colours really is a problem that I welcome. An entire wall, a palette of scintillating shades to warm and enchant every taste, affordable to every budget, only requirement is a bit of taping, a bit of sanding and a bit of elbow grease. If I were still married I would have a man's tastes to accommodate too when choosing colours. The idea that I don't and I can do what I want is both liberating and terrifying.

I got married when I was 24 and I got divorced when I was 34. I spent twelve years of my life, over a third of my time on this planet, with a person that I no longer see or interact with. It is now the eve of my 35th birthday and mind flows over the year, a blur in some places, a learning curve to say the least. The main place my thoughts keep resting is in the relationships that I have with people, how things have changed, how I have changed, how it feels like everything has changed, yet everything is still the same.

I tried to come up with an unorthodox guide to divorce, you know the part that everybody fails to tell you, the part that you learn alone at night, mostly between the hours of 11pm and 4am, just that exact time period, enough to leave you feeling shattered for the day that follows.

1)    You will simultaneously rejoice and mourn your new status. Some days you will be thrilled to be a singleton, thrilled with the possibility of doing all of these new wonderful things and not having to think of anybody but yourself. And then that joy will be overshadowed with the other side of the coin, the not belonging to anyone, the being so free that you could disappear and only your dog would miss you, the lack of belonging to someone. The lack of belonging can be like a hole in your chest. It is eerie and it is palpable. Just breathe. It diminishes.

2)    Your friends who are couples are going to take a side. It is only natural. In sports, everybody takes a side. Everybody has an opinion. And just like you are entitled to yours, they are entitled to theirs. Just let them ride it out. They too will mourn and suffer the loss of your marriage. Truthfully your relationships will never be quite the same. They will never understand the intricacies of your marriage or your divorce. It is pointless to explain it all. You can try to tell a couple of your best friends. But in all honesty, your best bet is to just conserve your energy. You are going to need it.

3)    Your friends who are couples may also exhibit a new behavior. Men are natural “rescuers”. They see a poor lonely woman in need, and they are going to want to fix everything for you. This is because most men are good, uncomplicated people. Their wives who are secure are going to let them, this is because they are uncomplicated people too. Their wives who are insecure are going to shadow their every single move, and are going to leave you feeling like “wow my friend doesn’t trust me, am I crazy to feel that way?”. And the answer is no, she doesn’t trust you, she doesn’t trust him, she doesn’t trust anybody, least of all not herself. Whatever you do, minimize the contact with your friends’ husbands. Communicate only with the wives. Until the ladies put their claws away. There is nothing that says “hiss” like a newly divorced female. I had no idea I could ever be a threat. If you suddenly are not invited to be a part of the group just know it’s not them, it’s totally you. You wear a scarlet letter.

4)    Which leads me on to guy friends. Guy friends can be a really interesting territory to navigate. My true guy friends, I love you. The ones who send me mothers’ day messages and sincerely compliment me on being a great mom. You know the way to my heart. The ones who give me genuine support, and invite me to dinner with their wives, a month in advance, to make sure everybody is accommodated. The ones who tell me they will be there like a bear with a moving truck and the offer to lift heavy things and that their girlfriends will watch my kids. The ones who show up with a blowtorch and some copper and change out my water heater. The ones who answer strange biological questions about men, even if I do make them spit their drink out or if I use anatomically correct terminology and its TMI. The ones who share their birthdays with me. The ones who offer to drive three hours away to rescue me if need be. The ones who invite me to hang out with their best buddies, and tell me to calm down, because I am not going to die if I have a little bit of fun. Those guys who know how I truly am (stalker), how I have always been (psycho), who tease me about it (weirdo), and who are always there (because they love me). Those guys, I thank you.

5)    The guy who sends you dick pictures or who suddenly thinks he’s moving in and you’re doing his laundry, that’s not a friend. That’s a lurker. Fortunately there is a block function on your iPhone for those creeps. Also I have found if you look someone right in the eye and say “Get out of my house!” (even if he’s taller than you) there is this great sense of accomplishment that is totally indescribable. I suggest you do it. Find your voice.

6)    You may spend a lot of money on clothing. And that actually is okay. I mean just identify the behavior for what it is, i.e. you have lost something of huge significance and you are trying to fill that void with all the pretty things. Another sweet friend told me that my shopping is cheaper than therapy. And actually I got some really nice pieces. And I feel satisfied and beautiful and able to dress for any occasion. Now if only I had someone to take me to a black tie event. J

7)    You are going to actually love this time in your life. If you have lived with conflict or turmoil, there is a re-cooperation and rejuvenation of yourself. You will get to decompress. And have candle lit baths. And in my case, buy frilly girl curtains for every window.

8)    You may find somebody else to be with. Or you may not. You may find Prince Charming. Or you may find a frog. Just make sure that you choose wisely. But, savor this time where you get to date yourself. Be the best stinkin’ parent that you have ever been. Give extra long hugs. Allow silliness and nonsense and shrieks of laughter to fill the house.

9)    And then last but not least, choose a man who loves your cat.