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Bittersweet~

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It’s so rainy , grey and cold here today. The boys got up feeling under the weather , grey and cold too. They grabbed their big soft comforters and and rolled themselves up like hedgehogs on the sofa with me. Not long after the dogs decided that we looked warm and comfy also. I am left with a tiny corner perched with my laptop . It is so very quiet. Only the sound of the rain on the tin roof, and two little ( not really so little anymore) boys breathing,soft as fairies’ breath, interspersed with a tiny dogs snores. The boys are 15 and 13 now and I can’t help but think , I must grab this moment to myself . For how much longer will they lay with me on the sofa in the mornings? Bittersweet, and magical , two dark heads, once both tiny enough to lay on my breast at the same time , now hang off the sofa , at all angles. They still hug me , and give kisses. And aren’t so absorbed with girls that I am a side note already. I know it is coming.
I see the glances my 15 year old gives the sweet young things at church. They smile at him with that look that only a teenage girl can have. Knowing . Even if I weren’t his mother , I would know he were handsome. Raven-haired and crystal green eyes , with just the right amount of cleft in his chin. And oh, his smile. But he doesn’t know he attracts them. He sees only friends who “happen” to be girls. I smile to myself.
My 13 year old , curls of black, with eyes so blue you could touch the ocean in them, finds solace in quiet places . He is not a social butterfly, and wishes nothing more than for girls to be on another planet somewhere at this point in his life. But they secretly smile for him too. They see that he is shy, so they don’t invade his space , but they watch him from afar , and whisper behind their hands to one another. The rumors get back to me. I gently tease him , and he rolls those beautiful eyes at me.
But this morning I shall soak up every precious , beautiful moment , while they are here, and belong wholly to me. Even though as I lay here typing , my legs are totally asleep from the combined weight of boy and dog . I have never had a happier moment.

About Me~, Poetry, Uncategorized

Twisted~

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I wonder if you see me ,
if you really care,
If I’ve become some spirit ,
just passing through you there.
A will’o’wisp with no real form,
to tie me to your sphere,
I am just a haint to you ,
with naught to hold me here.
We used to be lovers bold,
and cared naught who saw,
held tight with bands of brightened gold,
without a taint or flaw.
But you have found another,
who’s caught your soul from thee,
torn it like a paper mask,
worn on Hallow’s eve.
So tis not I , the haint,
but you my dear,
and you don’t realize,
the spider caught you in her web ,
and drained you with her lies.

About Me~

29 Days~

Today is the first day of February.  I know the 14th is Valentine’s Day, and that is the “traditional” day to give gifts , cards, and sentiments.  But in case you haven’t noticed, I ‘m not much for tradition just for the sake of it.  I like to do things differently, so I’ve decided for every day in February I would write about something that I love or appreciate in those I have in my life.

I’m going to start off with my husband of 15 years.  I guess the first thing I want to say is when he said in sickness and in health, the poor man definitely did NOT know what he was getting himself in for!  In our 15 year together, I have had 5 surgeries, spent many , many weeks in the hospital, had literally HUNDREDS of doctor’s visits, been in a wheelchair, used a walker, been unable to drive or care for myself for weeks at a time, unable to cook, clean, do laundry , and basically just been of no physical use to anyone for long periods. I ‘ve ballooned up to nearly 200 pounds and temporarily lost a lot of my hair.  Without complaint he has held my hand while I was in tremendous pain, held my head while I vomited, and just held me while I cried.  He has pushed me in a wheelchair up and down the hallways and sidewalks of Children’s Hospital, when our son was hospitalized there after his premature birth.  He has worked at crummy jobs just so we have money to eat, and pay bills.

All this from a man who never set out to get married, or have children of his own.  When the going got tough, he didn’t give in, give up , or give out.  He never said once that he was sorry for marrying me, or that this was not what he signed up for.  He has never said that anything was too hard, or been anything less than supportive.  He never tells me “Why can’t you just get over this?”, or  “This is your fault.”

So for anyone who says that there is no real love left in this world, I would have to say you’re wrong.  I have seen real love.  I have had the privilege of living with it every day , in every moment, for the last 15 years of my life.

And even though these words would never be enough to show it, I want to say them anyway.  “I love you .  And for all you ‘ve done, thanks , babe.”