Raising children is not for the faint of heart. I feel like a complete and utter failure right now. And this is really something small. The proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. I’m not sure why I decided to dig in my heels on this one. But I did.
Now she’s 175 miles away and angry. Not picking up the phone. The last time she was this angry, the event from the painful anniversary occurred.
I’m spinning out of control myself. I can’t fix this. I’m sick with worry wanting to change. To start over. To go all the way back to the day she was born. To be better this time so painful events do not happen.
There’s a bright light. I’m giving my child to a higher power. In His name I pray, help and keep safe my baby girl.
As always more to come.
That’s my natural state. What a curse! Have you heard about the hole in the ozone? Well, that’s my fault. I single-handedly destroyed it using Aquanet in the 1970’s. Woe is me! No one else to blame. Drama much?!?!? You know it.
As ridiculous as I sound, I feel like this daily. MyfaultMyfaultMyfaultMyfault. Pray for her. What a litany and not a litany of the saints.
Today as I walked to the post office to send a package to LuLu, I decided to be not guilty. Inside the care package was a little something with a note that reads “sometimes the best gift is giving to someone else. Pass this along”. I’m trying to make up for past failings in showing her the way. I hope she appreciates my gesture.
As I strolled along, I was in a state of contentment dammit because I’m turning over a new leaf. I decided I’d smile and say hello to whoever I encountered. As I passed a guy on his bike I smiled and said “good morning” Despite his going the opposite direction, he circled back. “You don’t happen to have $1, do you? It’s about to rain and I’d rather take the bus” Me “I don’t carry cash” and this is true. I’m a plastic girl in a plastic world. He replies “me too, all I have is my card”
Ah, sure and I’m the Queen of Sheba. He had the DTs. I knew so in an instant. Despite how he glided past me as he rode by the first time. His eyes had the look of my brother’s. My Jimbo Pete. The guy was jonesing as they say. And damn if I don’t feel guilty again. Just like that.
As always, more to come.