dont for a moment think that because i didnt raise my son i dont know motherhood. i do. i know motherhood. i know how often i thought of my son, and wondered how he was doing. i know how i tried to picture what he might be involved in, if he had siblings, where he was in the order of things, what his questions were, what he thought of God. what his personality was like.
now that he is grown, i am proud. he has become a man. he has values, and aspirations. he has a call on his life, that when he answers he will be quite the man of God. he has ethics. he has faced his struggles with help unseen, and as yet unrecognised. but someday he will know . . .
i have been his mother from afar. and have never stopped trusting God for his well being, and his soul. i have been, and always will be, his mother. no matter how much in the shadows i have been.
my son. the marine. the law enforcer. the light of my life. the man of God beloved. my son.
on other trains of thought… i have taken the dragon quiz three times. and have been the bronze dragon all three times. i guess the descrition fits, except i dont like green and yellow together. but yo will have to take the test for your self, and find your own inner dragon. fun, really.
the beau was first an emerald dragon, then a mist dragon. hmmm
some one egged our car this afternoon. not our newer car, the ’01 nissan altima. but old blue, the ford probe that died in an intersection a year ago april, and now sits quietly in front of the house. but there were egg shells on several cars along our street, so it was most likely kids thinking to be cool, while only accomplishing dumb. youth is not wasted on the young in my book. ‘tho tis often wasted.
still, today was a gainful day. i successfully expressed a grievance and was heard. i chose not to fly off the handle of reason, and in spite of raging hormones (oh when will it ever end?) i still was able to choose and deliver my feelings, and be heard AND listeded to.
a victory sweet. cosidering how out of sorts i was today, and how musch i felt left out. and a prisoner of my own body. holy crap!!!! what a wretched day. and mother’s day no less.
still, i managed a few civil words to my own mother, all the while feeling quite forlorn in my own stew. poor mom. still reeling from the death of her husband of twnety some odd year . . .or was it thirty? long time i know for sure, the most of which was spent in the shadow of his drunken haze, and only a few years of happy sobriety and retirement together. still, a victory for her . . .
and now she is alone. my step brother – one of four and the oldest, also once in the same stupor and now sober some years – has got his own home on washington now. the house warming was today. my mother could not yet bring herself to go to a gathering of the flock. but my heart was there for the both of us. glad i am he is sober now. three more to go. and a sister in the grip of hatred. harder to break than alcohol that.
happy mother’s day to all who enter here. through love lost, and love remembered. to have loved is good.