A change of some kind is going on inside me. My mind is moving slowly away from old dreams and embracing a new reality. I am learning to let go.
I have been in a constant mental state of rewind since last Thursday digging back into my memory bank, pouring through old journals. At first, I resisted and tried to shake it from my brain. By Friday afternoon, there was no more hiding, no more denying, no more pretending. Then, Friday night, the past came strolling casually into Pizza Hut.
At first, like I said, I was scared. Then something happened and the fear gave way to anger.
Something happened that I can't explain. A door of some kind has opened inside me. It is almost as if I can feel the past slowly pouring out from the dark hidden vault and washing away all the lies. Lies that I have told to myself, been told by others,lies I have lived. This must mean the truth, MY TRUTH will come to the surface.
The tears come freely, and often. I can't stop them. They arrive like an uninvited, yet welcome guest. I don't know what kind of tears they are. They aren't angry, depressed, or even happy. They are just tears.
I can't talk about it. Not just yet. The thoughts and feelings are still new to me and something inside refuses to embrace them. But they are there, alive inside me, painting a picture I don't want to see. But, see it I must.
Sometimes they roll slow and gentle down my cheek and it seems to comfort me, soft as a lovers touch. Other times they erupt from my eyes quickly as if trying to escape, they are hot and warm my cheeks.
In the minutes before drifting off to sleep, I pictured the woman that I am now, taking the hand of the teenager I was then. We stood looking into one anothers eyes. I knew I was looking into the past, and she knew she was looking into the future. I put my arm around her, told her that it wasn't her fault. She had no reason to be ashamed.
"Come with me", I told her and we walked off together. Was it a dream or were those my conscious thoughts....? I don't know.
Early Sunday morning I woke to discover my pillow wet. Can you cry in your sleep?
I arrived at my daughter's home Sunday for a big, down home Father's Day lunch. On impulse, I bought a couple of bottles of bubbles for Trooper Junior.
I took his tiny little hand in mine and walked out to the front porch. He stood watching with those big,blue eyes, open wide with anticipation as I opened the bottle, inserted the wand,pulled it out then softly blew. He gasped in excitement as bubbles of all shapes and sizes floated around him.
"Oh.....wow.....", he said, while trying to catch one in his hand.
When they were gone, "Mo....MeMa.....mo...."
He looked at me as if I had done something so grand, his face alive with wonder and amazement.
A bubble floated down, landing on his nose, then popped.
"MeMaaaaa", he said in awe.
The look on his face was so very precious, that, MeMa felt tears of joy roll down her cheek as I looked down into that sweet angel face.
"O....MeMa....boo-boo?"
He thought MeMa had a boo-boo. His cure for a boo-boo is to kiss it and make it better. Reaching his little arms for me to pick him up, he wiped a tear from MeMa's eye.
"Boo-boo", he said, then kissed my cheek, adding with concern, "Okay...?"
"Okay", I said.
"I wove you", he replied pressing his nose to mine, then was ready to get down for more bubble blowing fun.
I gave him the wand, and after several tries, he was finally able to blow his own bubbles, and rewarded himself by clapping his chubby hands together for a round of applause.
This was one of those moments I wanted to file away and keep forever. Something I will think about when he is no longer a little boy, but a man.
I have opened a Pandora's box, and there will be some rough days ahead, mentally and emotionally. But, for a short while today,I found a slice of heaven while blowing bubbles.
Later Ya'll...^Belle^
