Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Memory

A vague memory, half-submerged in the tributaries of my unconscious, bobbing up now and again to feel the warmth of sunlight, always incapable of finding its way back to the ocean.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Long time, no post...

Haven't posted here in a long, long time.

Haven't written in a long time, either.

Want to change that.

Anyway...

"Forgive and forget" may be the popular, or at least the accepted, 'right thing to do', but I refuse.

Just because someone cannot see the problem, or the hurt, does not mean it is not there.

Just because it was a long time ago, or one has aged, or is blood - whatever the reason or excuse - does not mean I automatically have to just let it go, does not mean I have to forget, or move on or forgive.

And just because you refuse to acknowledge or even - just once - ponder what the issue could be does not mean there is no problem.

Sometimes, cliches and platitudes are useless, the chasm too wide and the ability to cross it lost.

At last, the only path to follow is away, step by step.

So, I walk.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Distance is Relative

Distance is Relative

If you grow up in the same house,
separated by rooms,
does that make you friends for life?
Not always.

If you share DNA,
separated by age,
are you bonded and close?
Not always.

If you live in the same town,
separated by streets,
do you partake in each others lives?
Not always.

If you live on the same planet,
separated by a call,
do you talk often?
Not always.

If you are both alive,
separated by anger,
do you forgive?
Not always.

If one of you is gone,
separated by death,
do you mourn?
Not always.


This is a submission on the theme "Distance"
for The Tenth Daughter of Memory

Saturday, September 5, 2009

You and Me

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Life has so many obstacles,
so many chores, so many excuses.
It's easy to forget what made us us,
and get too comfortable.

We adjust to the status quo,
because we assume we will always be.
It's easy to take what was important
and relegate it to tomorrow.

But we won't always be us,
if we can't survive neglect.
It's easy to let the act of love
become a chore itself.

What got us to where we are today,
is as important as the air we breath.
It's easy to take it all for granted,
yet life is far too short.

And suddenly it can all change,
when we open our eyes to see the truth.
It's easy to find that love is not forgotten,
just waiting to be rekindled.

We can be whole once more,
and happiness can be ours again.
It's easy if we take the time for us,
and make you and me our priority.

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Thursday, August 20, 2009

Shadow

A life lived in shadow.

My father has always been a dominating, overbearing personality. When he is nearby, the sunlight is only allowed to shine on him and him alone. The rest of us exist in his shadow.

As I grew, I knew no better than to try and survive in that shadow. And while I wasn't alone, there comes a time when you realize something about this life is wrong.

Aren't parents supposed to move aside and let their children have their time to thrive in the light? I think so. But to do so, the child sometimes has to get away from the ever present shadow themselves. Waiting for the shadow to move might just doom you to a life in the dark.

The sun rises and sets, nothing we do will change that. And the shadows are always there. Eventually, where we choose to stand is up to us.

I chose to stand outside of my father's shadow.

And I choose to let my children stand beside me. Growing, thriving, sometimes for the better, sometimes not, but always in the light.

Theme Thursday

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Dress Rehearsals

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Often when you are anticipating, or dreading, a future moment in your life, you act out the coming scenes in your head. Usually over and over again.

And in these scenes, you want to be the hero, the person doing the right thing, for the right reasons, with perfect ease and no errors.

But in reality life doesn't work that way.

This world is made up of many actors, all trying to be the stars of our own dramas. Yet we are also the co-stars, character actors and bit players in the stories of others.

And as we get older, and wiser, we slowly learn this fact. So when we start doing dress rehearsals in our heads, we begin to play them in a more realistic light.

We won't always be the hero. More often than not, we will just be 'that guy'.

We won't always say what we want to say, because other people get in the way, with either their words or their emotions.

Each time, over the years, the scenes we play out beforehand resemble the eventual truth ever more.

We become jaded, or cynical. Practical or accepting, for more positive terms.

I suppose, when we have it almost perfected, the credits roll.

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Monday, August 3, 2009

Guilt

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I could act, but I don't want to. What I want to do is feel, and what I feel is guilt. And I shouldn't. But there it is.

Guilt is not one of those emotions we welcome, but it is one that visits often, or at least more often then we would like.

The main source of it for me right now are my ambivalent feelings in regards to my father and his diagnosis. Even though he talks positively and realistically, he apparently is getting worse instead of better.

And yet I am not afraid or depressed over the news. I hope for the best, but accept the truth.

Why then do I feel guilty?

We have never had a typical father/son relationship. But that isn't anything new. I have always been a minor player in the saga that has been his life. Truthfully, there was really only room for one major star there, anyway.

And I don't feel a pressing need to rush down to be by his side. Guilt there, too. But I honestly don't see what I could offer that he isn't already getting from my sister, his neighbor or the doctors.

That said, I would go in a second if my younger brother decided to head down. He would need the support, even if he won't ever admit it.

A quote I heard recently sticks with me and seems to have come at a serendipitous time. It is from a television show, and was spoken between two brothers about their father.

One asked the other, "Do you ever feel bad about not calling Dad?"

His brother answered, "No. I wish I had a Dad I wanted to call."

I am paraphrasing, but that is the gist of the conversation. Two short lines in a quick scene, but they said so much to me.

If I want to just be completely honest, I guess I am feeling guilty for trying to stay true to my own emotions and feelings about it all, about him.

I feel like there are scenes I am expected to be playing out, and I don't want to act in a role that has never been mine.

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