Tag Archives: sadness

Wallowing

I desire to be with people

but just want to sit by myself.

/

The air breezy and light,

my heart still and heavy.

/

I don’t know what I want or need,

only that I need to be wanted.

Solid edges

Your first cries were soothed with my milk and heartbeat.

Hugs and kisses calmed most else.

Band-aids and bacitracin covered your childhood.

But now you’ve graduated to anguish…

and I cannot stop your tears –

even if I went to the ends of the earth.

The love you’ve lost wasn’t mine to control.

You can only heal yourself now.

I pray that time

and good memories

help you to live with the hurt.

Drive-In

An August night in the seventies with no breeze or air conditioning. The thermometer still reads 88 just before sundown. A heat wave is not a great time to watch a movie outside. Too hot and heavy. It weighs on you.

There’s a lot of nothing going on in this section of the nearest city and this drive-in is like an active junk yard. Living room afghans have thrown up over the asphalt and a crowd of little kids are lucky enough to prevent injury one broken down swing set.

A camera finally reveals itself from the little cement house in the rear of the parking lot. Cartoon advertisements start to play on the  mammoth screen behind an old warehouse. Dusk and the stifling haze make it hard to make-out the images. Night falls as the dancing popcorn and candy-shaped characters struggle for my attention.

Instead, I focus on the couple making out in the pick-up truck in front of us. The projector has back lit their every movement. Only one movie is playing but this scene makes it a double-feature. I am not sure what else they are doing but I decide it’s unfair that there is only two of them and 14 of us in one vehicle.

It’s 1979 but we arrived in a Ford Country Squire station wagon from the sixties. Our driver is my former babysitter that packed her sisters, me, and half the neighborhood into this vehicle for the bargain price of $4 a carload. I don’t know how there was any room left for their two garbage bags full of homemade popcorn.

This escapade was a celebration. That’s what I was told anyway. An event to mark entry  into my teen years. I was naive but I knew it wasn’t  necessarily for me, or about me. I was just an observer watching everyone else’s craziness.

In that way, the outdoor movie theatre was a relevant inauguration to my teenage years. I developed no passion for either of them.  Nor was I was ever really present in the footage of my life.  Both my teens and the drive-ins were dark pits.

In fact, my father’s tag name for the drive-ins was “The Passion Pit” and he never took the family there.  I agreed with his terminology on that hot August night I turned 13. Nothing will ever change my opinion. It wasn’t on the reel but I saw that girls expression when she climbed out of the pick-up truck.  It was real. It was too much weight for a young hot me to bear.

Riddle Me This

The man cleaning your septic tank.

The tinfoiled woman under the hot dryer.

The toddler falling down for the 100th time.

The man being screened by his proctologist.

The 10-inch dilated woman.

The first-grader climbing into a yellow bus for the 1st time.

The man at his own funeral.

The woman at her in-laws.

The introverted tween giving a classroom speech.

The man getting fired from the job he hates.

The woman insomniac blogger.

The high-schooler in the principal’s office.

The male politician debating politics and religion.

The single Mom working two jobs for her kids.

The wayward youth being matched with a mentor.

….when you’re in a bad place but for a really good reason.

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Broken.”

I try to find beauty in the moments I am broken.

My ugly feelings are translated into prettier words.

Many times these pieces end up in my “Nothing and Everything” category.

That page title, and the posts from today, probably illustrate that:

https://mstoywhisperer.wordpress.com/about/nothing-and-everything-blogs/

A more dated post in particular made me think about one of my sister’s whom has been creating self-portraits since we were children:

https://mstoywhisperer.wordpress.com/2015/03/08/self-portrait-2/

Thanks for reading!

Tomorrow is a new day.

D-Day

IMG_20150228_202843_kindlephoto-57575017

This morning I was trying to change the world and asking everyone to post about a time of need. I’d originally wanted to post tonight about my Big Sister experience. After dropping my daughter off at her college campus, I prefer to tell you another story instead.

I was running on empty and selfishly sad because the holidays were truly over and my daughter wouldn’t be at the house for more than a month again. My husband stopped at Dunkin’s and I slowly emerged to get a couple of hot drinks. I trudged in barely aware of my surroundings. I heard the person behind the counter ask how my night was and realized I was the only customer.

That never happens to me at Dunks.

At first I wondered if he saw my unhappy face and then figured he was just bored. So, I gave a vague answer and he seemed interested. We talked as he made my drinks. In those couple minutes he tried to assure me that he had friends that had attended that personable school and that she was in good hands. I chuckled and told him that deep down I knew all that but I was just being a Mom. I told the young man he cheered me up. I left a nice tip.

I never do that at Dunk’s.

When I least expected it my barista had changed my world.