The last time I cleaned my daughter's room because I could not stand to see the filth any longer, I got yelled at. My husband, like me, hates the way she doesn't clean her room and will talk and talk and talk about it until I cannot stand listening to him any longer so I go in there and clean it up. It makes both of us feel better. Having the entire house clean except for her room--which is a total disaster--makes us feel like we're keeping a dirty little secret--like we're fake clean people. But when my daughter comes home from work, he will yell at her about how I had to clean her pigpen of a room and then SHE will yell at me for cleaning it because she doesn't want me in her room blah, blah, blah. So I decided that would I resist cleaning it because it feels wrong to be yelled at and sneered at for doing something nice for someone. It's like no one is happy with it dirty and no one is happy with it clean, so why bother? Anyway, I just went into her room to put something away and it's back to being a disaster area. Her trash is overflowing, there is a glass half-filled with orange juice, there are old receipts laying all over the floor, clothes piled all over. I walked out, closed the door and am now trying to pretend that there isn't a mess behind it.
~~~~~~~~~
My husband has to work out of town on Saturday and asked me to go along with him to keep him company. This wouldn't be a problem, but my youngest daughter usually comes home on the weekend and will see this as me slighting her in some way. My life is filled with overly needy people pulling me in opposite directions. I try to stay above the fray by tuning out most of their noise, their pulling, their needing. There is nothing about my life that is how I imagined it would be at this point and I'm trying to forget how I dreamed things would be to make it easier.
~~~~~~~~~
I've been fighting this feeling of envy lately. I'm not jealous, I'm envious. I think jealousy means I want to take something from someone else that they have that I want, and envy means that I don't mind them having something, but that I want what they have for myself as well. Maybe I'm justifying these feelings so they're not so hateful, I don't know. It's just that I'm envious of lots of things lately. Some people would tell me to get off my ass and make things happen for myself, and I would say that's a valid comment to make except I don't know how to make things happen for myself anymore. I'm just lost. Stuck. Trapped.
~~~~~~~~
When I'm out running, I don't feel like I'm part of the world anymore. Everything disappears so it feels like I've popped a magic pill that takes me away from all the things that make me want to scream and scream and never stop screaming. When I'm out running, I sometimes wish I could fly like I can in my dreams. I want to soar above it all--take it all in from a different perspective--clear my head. I want to see what it looks like to be me--what I would think of myself if I could take off then look back to where I am living here on earth.
Showing posts with label ordinary life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ordinary life. Show all posts
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Joke me something awful
I'm sick of shitty people.
Example A. I've lived in this neighborhood for a little over 7 years. I pretty much keep to myself but I always go out of my way to say hello or wave to my neighbors and will engage in small talk if necessary. So there's this guy I always passed when I used to do my run. He doesn't live on my street but a couple of streets over. He's really the unfriendly sort. It took me about two months to get him to respond to me when I would say hello to him when I would pass him. I think part of the problem was that I was onto his scam of walking his dog and allowing it to crap on everyone else's lawn without picking it up and carrying it home to dispose as the rules in our covenants state. We even get reminders written on whiteboards at the beginning of our subdivision so there really is no excuse for this sort of ignorant behavior. I caught him doing it a couple of times but never said anything, I just filed it away and would refer to him as the guy who let his dog crap on everyone's lawn without picking it up.
But after about 2 months of continued HELLO'S on my part, this old fart finally said hello back to me. I considered it a success because this guy is what I call MAD AT THE WORLD. You know the type--mad at everyone for all of life's little hardships and blaming everyone else for the fact that he's a loser. The type that would take his dog out every single day and purposely allow it to crap on a neighbor's lawn without cleaning up after it as a way of sticking it to all of his so-called enemies. I can just picture him chuckling at home about how it's such an awesome thing that he lets his dog crap everywhere. HehHehHehHeh. I can almost hear him. And you KNOW he's the type who would have a complete COW if you allowed your pet to do the same thing he does to everyone else. Typical ass.
Fast forward to today. I pass him walking his dog (he actually took the dog to the backyard of a home that is for sale to take a crap because that's where I saw him exiting and he has no business being on that property). He continues walking down the street and I passed by him and WAVED PLUS SAID HELLO and this freak looked me straight in the eyes and then turned away without saying anything. I was dismissed. That was IT for me. I said "OKAYYYYYYYY" and let out a huge sigh like WTF? and ran by his obnoxious ass. I will NEVER acknowledge him again for the rest of my life. Some people are just beyond any sort of redemption. I am convinced of this. He better stay off the streets, too, because I might be tempted to run him over if he gets in my way.
Exhibit B. I asked my daughter to take her car to get an emissions test so that I can get the yearly car registration sticker. I give her a check to pay for the test, I am paying for the registration, we paid for the car in full and gave it to her and we also pay the insurance each month on the car. Well, she starts giving me attitude about how it's such a bother to go get it inspected! Lots of stomping around and mumbling under her breath. Now if I was the sort of person who made up a huge list each day and asked everyone to complete all the tasks or ELSE, I could understand all the drama, however, I rarely ask anything of anyone. She's 25 and living at home with no plans to leave any time soon. I keep asking my husband if we can just slip away during the night and leave everyone because I am convinced no one will ever leave. They left, found out life was difficult/expensive in the real world and came back.
Part of the reason I've been having a hard time lately is that I see no end to this and I think that a good mother should just go with the flow and welcome everyone back and not feel like I'm losing something important that I feel I've worked towards (my children growing up and moving out). I told my husband that I would not have had children so young if I had known that things would turn out like this. More than half my life has been spent caring for other people and before that I lived at home and was under the thumb of very strict parents. It's like I never got to live and have tons of fun or be in any way selfish. EVER. I know that's dramatic, but it's how I feel sometimes. And when stuff like this emissions test kerfluffle comes up, I want to quietly go into my room, get a suitcase, pack a few things, then hit the road. And here's the thing. I don't think I would look back or be sad because I'm so over all of them. I know in a few hours I'll have cooled off but right this minute I can picture myself by myself forever.
Example A. I've lived in this neighborhood for a little over 7 years. I pretty much keep to myself but I always go out of my way to say hello or wave to my neighbors and will engage in small talk if necessary. So there's this guy I always passed when I used to do my run. He doesn't live on my street but a couple of streets over. He's really the unfriendly sort. It took me about two months to get him to respond to me when I would say hello to him when I would pass him. I think part of the problem was that I was onto his scam of walking his dog and allowing it to crap on everyone else's lawn without picking it up and carrying it home to dispose as the rules in our covenants state. We even get reminders written on whiteboards at the beginning of our subdivision so there really is no excuse for this sort of ignorant behavior. I caught him doing it a couple of times but never said anything, I just filed it away and would refer to him as the guy who let his dog crap on everyone's lawn without picking it up.
But after about 2 months of continued HELLO'S on my part, this old fart finally said hello back to me. I considered it a success because this guy is what I call MAD AT THE WORLD. You know the type--mad at everyone for all of life's little hardships and blaming everyone else for the fact that he's a loser. The type that would take his dog out every single day and purposely allow it to crap on a neighbor's lawn without cleaning up after it as a way of sticking it to all of his so-called enemies. I can just picture him chuckling at home about how it's such an awesome thing that he lets his dog crap everywhere. HehHehHehHeh. I can almost hear him. And you KNOW he's the type who would have a complete COW if you allowed your pet to do the same thing he does to everyone else. Typical ass.
Fast forward to today. I pass him walking his dog (he actually took the dog to the backyard of a home that is for sale to take a crap because that's where I saw him exiting and he has no business being on that property). He continues walking down the street and I passed by him and WAVED PLUS SAID HELLO and this freak looked me straight in the eyes and then turned away without saying anything. I was dismissed. That was IT for me. I said "OKAYYYYYYYY" and let out a huge sigh like WTF? and ran by his obnoxious ass. I will NEVER acknowledge him again for the rest of my life. Some people are just beyond any sort of redemption. I am convinced of this. He better stay off the streets, too, because I might be tempted to run him over if he gets in my way.
Exhibit B. I asked my daughter to take her car to get an emissions test so that I can get the yearly car registration sticker. I give her a check to pay for the test, I am paying for the registration, we paid for the car in full and gave it to her and we also pay the insurance each month on the car. Well, she starts giving me attitude about how it's such a bother to go get it inspected! Lots of stomping around and mumbling under her breath. Now if I was the sort of person who made up a huge list each day and asked everyone to complete all the tasks or ELSE, I could understand all the drama, however, I rarely ask anything of anyone. She's 25 and living at home with no plans to leave any time soon. I keep asking my husband if we can just slip away during the night and leave everyone because I am convinced no one will ever leave. They left, found out life was difficult/expensive in the real world and came back.
Part of the reason I've been having a hard time lately is that I see no end to this and I think that a good mother should just go with the flow and welcome everyone back and not feel like I'm losing something important that I feel I've worked towards (my children growing up and moving out). I told my husband that I would not have had children so young if I had known that things would turn out like this. More than half my life has been spent caring for other people and before that I lived at home and was under the thumb of very strict parents. It's like I never got to live and have tons of fun or be in any way selfish. EVER. I know that's dramatic, but it's how I feel sometimes. And when stuff like this emissions test kerfluffle comes up, I want to quietly go into my room, get a suitcase, pack a few things, then hit the road. And here's the thing. I don't think I would look back or be sad because I'm so over all of them. I know in a few hours I'll have cooled off but right this minute I can picture myself by myself forever.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Close your eyes and sleep to dream
I've been reading a lot of political blogs lately and what I've found is that they tend to depress me and make me lose hope in everything and I think hope is important to have. It makes getting up in the morning worthwhile if you believe that there are positives to counter all the negatives, that there is light somewhere within the darkness. So I decided to stop obsessing over wanting to read everything and know everything because what can one person do with all that knowledge anyway? I want to know what is going on, but I need to continue to have hope that things will be ok. I'm not sure if I'm just fooling myself or what. I've become somewhat jaded about everything and I am not exaggerating when I write this. I'm like the dark cloud over Eyeore's head threatening to rain at any moment and spoil everyone's day. Tell me something wonderful and I'll be able to root out the evil that's lurking beneath the all the wonderfulness. I've turned into quite the killjoy for sure.
I was talking to a friend of mine the other day and we were both lamenting about how our lives did not turn out the way we had dreamed they would--how things happened that we had no control over and how we had to adapt to a different life plan. There isn't a place to go where we can just cry about the losses that probably aren't significant to most of the outside world but still feel huge to us. There's this fear of expressing dissatisfaction when you know that mostly your life is blessed, because the rule is that you count your blessings and you do not ask for more than enough when you have enough. And so we discuss this with each other and tell each other that we're lucky because we are. And the speaking of the words that feel like a betrayal helps for a while. We hang up our phones and get on with the lives we have and we feel less alone knowing there is at least one person walking the earth who feels the same things.
I'm on one of my cleaning binges again. It's always all or nothing with me and I tend to disrespect housecleaning now that I have been doing it more than half of my life. There's nothing rewarding about it but I get to the point where I feel like I need control of something, anything, and so I clean. Even when I know that tomorrow at this time everything I've done will be undone there are at least a few moments when things are in order and that gives me a little peace. My gravestone will probably read something like, She lived, She cleaned, She saw her cleaning come undone, She died.
I'm almost done the Bible and know that I will have to go back and read it all again because there is just so much to take in after just one reading. My mind is filled with all the stories and all the questions I have that I am afraid I will never get the answers to--at least not in this life. I've found some of the most beautiful prose inside the Bible and I wasn't expecting that. And I've also found that while there were things I did not understand, I did get the messages of love that were preached throughout, and the messages of forgiveness. Life is so complicated, and people make it more complicated than it needs to be. The message of loving one another is such a simple thing, yet most of us can't sustain that sort of love long enough to make a difference. There are too many outside annoyances calling our attention away from what is most important and we simply allow those distractions to steal the gift of love away and put it on a back burner. I start off each day swearing to do better and by noon I'm off track. I'm not sure good intentions count for anything when good intentions are all I ever end up having.
Watermelon is great this time of the year...and air conditioning is the greatest invention of all time when it is 100 degrees outside. I feel alive when I go outside and within a minute am covered in sweat. I feel alive when I come inside and am met with a wall of cool air. I am here in this corner of the world struggling to make sense of everything that doesn't make sense. I turn the page and think about all the things I need to put down in words so that I will not be forgotten. I scream inside my head, don't forget me.
I was talking to a friend of mine the other day and we were both lamenting about how our lives did not turn out the way we had dreamed they would--how things happened that we had no control over and how we had to adapt to a different life plan. There isn't a place to go where we can just cry about the losses that probably aren't significant to most of the outside world but still feel huge to us. There's this fear of expressing dissatisfaction when you know that mostly your life is blessed, because the rule is that you count your blessings and you do not ask for more than enough when you have enough. And so we discuss this with each other and tell each other that we're lucky because we are. And the speaking of the words that feel like a betrayal helps for a while. We hang up our phones and get on with the lives we have and we feel less alone knowing there is at least one person walking the earth who feels the same things.
I'm on one of my cleaning binges again. It's always all or nothing with me and I tend to disrespect housecleaning now that I have been doing it more than half of my life. There's nothing rewarding about it but I get to the point where I feel like I need control of something, anything, and so I clean. Even when I know that tomorrow at this time everything I've done will be undone there are at least a few moments when things are in order and that gives me a little peace. My gravestone will probably read something like, She lived, She cleaned, She saw her cleaning come undone, She died.
I'm almost done the Bible and know that I will have to go back and read it all again because there is just so much to take in after just one reading. My mind is filled with all the stories and all the questions I have that I am afraid I will never get the answers to--at least not in this life. I've found some of the most beautiful prose inside the Bible and I wasn't expecting that. And I've also found that while there were things I did not understand, I did get the messages of love that were preached throughout, and the messages of forgiveness. Life is so complicated, and people make it more complicated than it needs to be. The message of loving one another is such a simple thing, yet most of us can't sustain that sort of love long enough to make a difference. There are too many outside annoyances calling our attention away from what is most important and we simply allow those distractions to steal the gift of love away and put it on a back burner. I start off each day swearing to do better and by noon I'm off track. I'm not sure good intentions count for anything when good intentions are all I ever end up having.
Watermelon is great this time of the year...and air conditioning is the greatest invention of all time when it is 100 degrees outside. I feel alive when I go outside and within a minute am covered in sweat. I feel alive when I come inside and am met with a wall of cool air. I am here in this corner of the world struggling to make sense of everything that doesn't make sense. I turn the page and think about all the things I need to put down in words so that I will not be forgotten. I scream inside my head, don't forget me.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
The sacred is in the ordinary
"The great lesson is that the sacred is in the ordinary, that it is to be found in one's daily life, in one's neighbours, friends, and family, in one's backyard." - Abraham Maslow
I was going to write about the reply I got from my daughter's teacher today but I've allowed that woman to take up too much of my time today and so I will write about that another time.
Instead, I will talk about dribbling brightly colored lights among the bushes out front. I love Christmas lights--colored, preferably, but white will do in a pinch and on a mantel decorated with my favorite Christmas things.
I found the star for the top my tree and the tree skirt so I did not have to go out and purchase new ones. The old me would rush out and buy new things without thinking, but the new me wants to live a simpler life--and what could be more simple than taking the time to find things you know you have but can't find because you have so much stuff? I could seriously open some sort of store with all the stuff I've accumulated over the course of my life. I wish I knew then what I know now--that things are just things and the only importance they hold is the importance you assign them yourself.
My son is on his way home from college and we're thinking of decorating his room with Christmas lights to welcome him. I'm so excited to see him again. It feels like years and like just yesterday that he went away...if that makes sense--long and short at the same time.
There are days when it seems the fates are conspiring to drive me crazy and I fight to keep positive. On those days I look for the little things to bring me happiness--like a strand of colored lights, or the thought of my son coming back home to us.
I was going to write about the reply I got from my daughter's teacher today but I've allowed that woman to take up too much of my time today and so I will write about that another time.
Instead, I will talk about dribbling brightly colored lights among the bushes out front. I love Christmas lights--colored, preferably, but white will do in a pinch and on a mantel decorated with my favorite Christmas things.
I found the star for the top my tree and the tree skirt so I did not have to go out and purchase new ones. The old me would rush out and buy new things without thinking, but the new me wants to live a simpler life--and what could be more simple than taking the time to find things you know you have but can't find because you have so much stuff? I could seriously open some sort of store with all the stuff I've accumulated over the course of my life. I wish I knew then what I know now--that things are just things and the only importance they hold is the importance you assign them yourself.
My son is on his way home from college and we're thinking of decorating his room with Christmas lights to welcome him. I'm so excited to see him again. It feels like years and like just yesterday that he went away...if that makes sense--long and short at the same time.
There are days when it seems the fates are conspiring to drive me crazy and I fight to keep positive. On those days I look for the little things to bring me happiness--like a strand of colored lights, or the thought of my son coming back home to us.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
When they aren't soothing my soul, vacations make me tired
"Laughter is an instant vacation." ~Milton Berle
They fight over the radio station, where we will go to eat, what TV show we will watch, how long it takes to get there, how long it takes us to get back, who is carrying the heaviest bags, whether the AC in the room is too hot or too cold, whether the ocean is miracle or just a body of water with a lot of annoying sand all around, DH driving too slow and taking corners too sharply and causing her to shift in her seat, politics, tattoos and body piercing and DH's sexist views of both, whether we should take a sightseeing cruise, DH's horrible snoring which he claims he doesn't do! They argue and fight about everything.
I fight the losing battle to keep the peace.
I bring along novels to escape their histrionics because they are relentless in their need to be right about everything and they seem to enjoy the sparring. I bring my IPOD along as well. It is filled with songs that will tell you a lot about who I am. I feel myself shrinking around them because I just want everyone to be happy and don't understand this need to create friction all the damn time. I plead with them to stop, to be kind to each other. I know I have a purpose here with them, I'm just not certain what it is yet or if I'll ever be successful.
But the ocean? The ocean was peaceful and healing. It was emerald green and blue, and sometimes it was a beautiful mix of both colors. The sun looked like it was dancing on top of the water and I wished I could float on top of it forever. On the horizon, not too far from shore, we could see dolphins swimming and jumping. The sand was the purest white, soft and cool. There weren't enough shells but the ones I found were bright white and shaped perfectly. I brought them home and placed them in my jar of shells. I love the sound of the ocean. I love the sun setting on top of the water. I love thinking about all the life contained within it.
I came home and did laundry, emptied the dishwasher, and stored the luggage away in my closet. I know this routine by heart. I am happy this routine gets interrupted every once in a while, that I get to live away from it, even if only for a week.
When I walk, I can still feel some sand in my shoes. It secretly makes me happy knowing I still have a part of that world so close to me, helping me remember.
They fight over the radio station, where we will go to eat, what TV show we will watch, how long it takes to get there, how long it takes us to get back, who is carrying the heaviest bags, whether the AC in the room is too hot or too cold, whether the ocean is miracle or just a body of water with a lot of annoying sand all around, DH driving too slow and taking corners too sharply and causing her to shift in her seat, politics, tattoos and body piercing and DH's sexist views of both, whether we should take a sightseeing cruise, DH's horrible snoring which he claims he doesn't do! They argue and fight about everything.
I fight the losing battle to keep the peace.
I bring along novels to escape their histrionics because they are relentless in their need to be right about everything and they seem to enjoy the sparring. I bring my IPOD along as well. It is filled with songs that will tell you a lot about who I am. I feel myself shrinking around them because I just want everyone to be happy and don't understand this need to create friction all the damn time. I plead with them to stop, to be kind to each other. I know I have a purpose here with them, I'm just not certain what it is yet or if I'll ever be successful.
But the ocean? The ocean was peaceful and healing. It was emerald green and blue, and sometimes it was a beautiful mix of both colors. The sun looked like it was dancing on top of the water and I wished I could float on top of it forever. On the horizon, not too far from shore, we could see dolphins swimming and jumping. The sand was the purest white, soft and cool. There weren't enough shells but the ones I found were bright white and shaped perfectly. I brought them home and placed them in my jar of shells. I love the sound of the ocean. I love the sun setting on top of the water. I love thinking about all the life contained within it.
I came home and did laundry, emptied the dishwasher, and stored the luggage away in my closet. I know this routine by heart. I am happy this routine gets interrupted every once in a while, that I get to live away from it, even if only for a week.
When I walk, I can still feel some sand in my shoes. It secretly makes me happy knowing I still have a part of that world so close to me, helping me remember.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Ordinary - Scenes From Her Life - Story #2
When she knows everyone is sleeping, when it is quiet everywhere but inside her head, she is thinking that maybe the best thing she will ever do with her life is make sure that her daughter is not anything like her.
It is something she thinks about constantly, how much she wants so very much for her daughter. And if you were on the outside looking in, you might think that she isn't the best one to make this happen, but you would be wrong.
She is sweeping up Cheerios, guiding them into a corner where she will vacuum them up later. She is carrying warm laundry from the dryer to dump on a chair in the family room, and she is thinking how much she hates the folding and the putting away, so much so that there is a mountain of clean, dry clothes waiting for her to tend to that never gets any smaller. She is walking the aisles at the grocery store trying to figure out "what's for dinner" tonight, and she is thinking quietly to herself, "this is what I am doing with my life."
And even though she swears she would never undo anything or anyone, she can't seem to forget the forgotten dreams that nobody knows exist. She knows this for sure: That dreams do not die. They live somewhere inside waiting patiently to be found again.
What she needed more than anything in her life was for someone to tell her that she could do anything, be anything, but she did not have that. Something inside her wasn't strong enough or smart enough or confident enough to do great things, and so she did small things marginally. She never made waves. The stars did not shine for her or on her. Sometimes, many times, she felt wholly invisible.
She knows this for sure as well: She dreams much bigger than she lives and that leaves her wanting more for herself than this, than this.
She tells her daughter the things she never heard herself, things she knows would have made all the difference: that she can do anything, that she should never be so afraid that she becomes paralyzed and does nothing at all, that the world is hers, that she is smart and kind and good and has so much to offer. She tells her daughter to keep her voice loud and unwavering, and to never lose it or let it be drowned out by people who cannot know the huge potential that lives inside her. She tells her daughter that she believes in her with her heart. She tells her to reach for more and to settle for nothing but the best. She tells her daughter that she is loved immeasurably, unconditionally, forever.
She is putting silverware away in their proper places thinking that someone has to do it so it might as well be her. She is wiping down mirrors she knows will be smeared by mid-afternoon but she loves the smell of Windex so this doesn't bother her too much. She is counting the minutes until her children go to bed so she can have some semblance of peace at the end of a day where she keeps feeling her spirit being crushed by people who look past her, in search of something more.
At night, she counts her blessings in groups of five because it is good to remember the many things she has been told she should be grateful for. Now when she closes her eyes, she dreams big for her daughter. She resolves once again to do the best she can do with the ordinary life she hadn't planned on.
It is something she thinks about constantly, how much she wants so very much for her daughter. And if you were on the outside looking in, you might think that she isn't the best one to make this happen, but you would be wrong.
She is sweeping up Cheerios, guiding them into a corner where she will vacuum them up later. She is carrying warm laundry from the dryer to dump on a chair in the family room, and she is thinking how much she hates the folding and the putting away, so much so that there is a mountain of clean, dry clothes waiting for her to tend to that never gets any smaller. She is walking the aisles at the grocery store trying to figure out "what's for dinner" tonight, and she is thinking quietly to herself, "this is what I am doing with my life."
And even though she swears she would never undo anything or anyone, she can't seem to forget the forgotten dreams that nobody knows exist. She knows this for sure: That dreams do not die. They live somewhere inside waiting patiently to be found again.
What she needed more than anything in her life was for someone to tell her that she could do anything, be anything, but she did not have that. Something inside her wasn't strong enough or smart enough or confident enough to do great things, and so she did small things marginally. She never made waves. The stars did not shine for her or on her. Sometimes, many times, she felt wholly invisible.
She knows this for sure as well: She dreams much bigger than she lives and that leaves her wanting more for herself than this, than this.
She tells her daughter the things she never heard herself, things she knows would have made all the difference: that she can do anything, that she should never be so afraid that she becomes paralyzed and does nothing at all, that the world is hers, that she is smart and kind and good and has so much to offer. She tells her daughter to keep her voice loud and unwavering, and to never lose it or let it be drowned out by people who cannot know the huge potential that lives inside her. She tells her daughter that she believes in her with her heart. She tells her to reach for more and to settle for nothing but the best. She tells her daughter that she is loved immeasurably, unconditionally, forever.
She is putting silverware away in their proper places thinking that someone has to do it so it might as well be her. She is wiping down mirrors she knows will be smeared by mid-afternoon but she loves the smell of Windex so this doesn't bother her too much. She is counting the minutes until her children go to bed so she can have some semblance of peace at the end of a day where she keeps feeling her spirit being crushed by people who look past her, in search of something more.
At night, she counts her blessings in groups of five because it is good to remember the many things she has been told she should be grateful for. Now when she closes her eyes, she dreams big for her daughter. She resolves once again to do the best she can do with the ordinary life she hadn't planned on.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
