August
WEEK 77 Thursday 11 - Wednesday 17
WEEK 78 Thursday 18 - Wednesday 24
Have you ever felt broken? I hope you never do. It’s a horrible feeling. I hope life
spares you from it. It hasn’t me. And so I will be honest, because I don’t want to
pretend that all is well. What is the point of writing if you lie to everyone, including
yourself? I feel broken. And I have the right to feel that way, as you have the
right to stop reading this very moment. At least I think so.
WEEK 77 & WEEK 78 STINK.
I HATE THE OUTCOME OF THESE PAST TWO WEEKS.
YES, I DO!!! I HATE IT. I HATE IT. I HATE IT!!!!!!!
These past weeks were so promising. I was working on FOOD STORIES and
getting ready to visit my sister, Hilda, in Florida. I was thrilled because I needed a
change from this dreadful Auburn-Winder monotony. Yes, a little Florida sunshine,
a little sisterly talk at the beach, and we were even going to Rob Deck’s book
signing in Orlando on Friday so I could meet him personally and thank him for
reviewing my book.
However, while preparing for my mini-vacation, my world is turned around after
an argument with my daughter, Sandra, leads to: No beach, no sisterly talk
and no book signing. What I got instead was: Lots of anger, tons of hurt, and
an ocean of tears.
Today is Alonso’s birthday. I should have been celebrating it. I should have been
able to say Happy Birthday to my grandson. I should have been able to hug and
kiss a child I have helped raise. Instead, I have re-played a vivid dream I had last
night, over and over again, as the day went along to feel him close to me.
I saw him so clearly in my dream. It went like this… I got home from work. Parked
in the driveway. I look up to my house thinking about how awful it was not to be
even able to wish him a Happy Birthday because I feared stirring things again
between my daughter and I. Then I get out of my car and walk up the stairs to
the door. I look for the right key and I opened my door. I find my house empty. I
find my house lonely. I stand in the foyer and think about how much my house
and I have in common. We've certainly seen better days.
I go upstairs and close the white children’s safety rail behind me. At the sound it
made, Alonso, peeks his head out from my bedroom's door fram. I see him
come out of my room and run toward me, dressed in blue jeans and a red t-shirt,
full throttle down the hallway with a big smile that said how much he missed me.
Can you feel your heart beating fast in a dream? I could. And I felt his warmth
as I bent down and those little arms wrapped around my neck. Then, I saw myself
grabbing his hands and separating him from me for a brief moment so Icould
look into his precious face. His big brown eyes were filled with light, and he was
smiling in that way that makes my heart melt. We hugged again and I caressed
his soft dark hair. I swear I could smell the baby shampoo scent as I kissed his
head. That moment lingered. I remember wanting to say so many things to
him... but instead we just hugged in silence. And that's all I remember.
I know... things will get better. But for now, allow me to feel the way I do. Broken.
