Life is not Pass or Fail: A Mother’s Day Remembrance

I have always seen “weakness” as a defect and here on this blog I say a lot about what I consider to be my own weaknesses – the narrative playing in my head and here on these pages for years has been a fear that I am too broken and weak to be useful at all….

A Bad Poem About My Sobriety

SOBER. Antonyms: alcoholic, drinker, drunk, lush, souse, wino I’m Sober today. But I’m clutching at it. And not contentedly. Control is an illusion. I’m powerless, that I can confess. Today, when the whole thing, my duct-taped heart, feels like it’s falling apart and I’m heart racing tired, knowing I should never get.this.way. I think, “If I could I’d smoke then, … What?” But the broken down lungs no longer cooperate. I want…

Calm Down and Breathe

I’ve learned something profoundly important about myself.  I thrive off difficulties. It’s a tendency of addictive persons. And though it’s not all bad to have this penchant, it can be bad.  There’s good too, to be into problem solving, endlessly considering three steps ahead, to be that type of person that is wondering about the…

I’m Already Drowning

The noise of him rising wakes me, suddenly aware of morning.  I must have slept, for I am now fully awake. Before any awareness of the day a familiar dread pounds inside, stomach lurching. Life’s burdens stream in, pooling around as the bed floats. A Swelling river of tears, and fear and heartache.  I’m already…

Waiting to be Born

What is waiting to be born inside me, hope and delicate, childlike faith and courage.  I am wrecked, at the moment.  Empty, consumed, used up and useful to no one. This life is too much to bear. I’m waiting for it. I’m wavering, it is flickering within enough to burn. Bright and on, or out….

[I Asked God for More] than Motherhood

I woke up on Sunday full of lament. The depression that had been crushing me was now a throttling choke. I woke up straining. Strangled and gasping for air, for truth, for relief; I woke up. I woke up on Sunday already giving up. Begging for it, the answer to the question depression always asks:…

Starting Again, Come Monday

  “Any idiot can face a crisis; it’s the day-to-day living that wears you out…”  — Chekov It is the today, yesterday, and tomorrow; the calamities converging into a sucker punch, so that my ears are ringing, bumping and bashing back and forth, I’m wobbly. I’m done.   My heart hurts, my body even hurts from the…

The not quite believable Miracle: there is Power to Change

I have a big problem with trust.  It’s as if I’m expecting a colossal smack down from Life. The question I’m always asking myself is do I make it happen, with my fear and negativity? This existential question cannot be decided simply, not today. I do know that I often withdraw from life. I’m afraid of things,…

{Life and Death in 25 Lines}

His homework was to write a poem. Tell us a childhood memory. He wrote, The Week my Grandpa Died in 25 lines. Over two sautéing onions, tears.  I’m choking on them and the meat and spices, Mom, is this too hard? Mom, do you need a hug? Mom, I need to give you a hug he says coming…

{Nightmares and Day Dreams: For Our Children}

bad dreams we free fall together. an enormous wall, grows looming. the waves rise and fall the pull of the tide, a wall in the distance threatens drowning. i grab for her, shouting “raise your head.” and still, it comes. “Childhood: that happy period when nightmares occur only during sleep.” (Unknown) I have always believed…

{Apart and Away}

I’m worn-out; tired as I’ve never been before. Weary in a not sleepy frantic hungry and hysterically wild frightened, nothing-is-working, everything is falling Apart and away. Restless and abysmal [unable to talk because some problems are not for public consumption.] I lay arrested, in the midnight hours, whispering Jesus, what are we going to do?  Some…

(On Being Human — A Prayerful Poem)

We will go soon, and I’m afraid. I laid awake last night, wondering.  And in the meantime, since. I thought and thought.  My brain hurt for thinking so hard. When does rationality belay trust in God? Our souls churn, the crushing Weight of heart ache. We are sore from it.  Sleep won’t come And it’s 3:30 in the…