Showing posts with label imperfect prose. Show all posts
Showing posts with label imperfect prose. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

The Moon

   "The moon"
you say,
   was magnificent...


but I was too scared
to look it in the eye
for falling into your heart
and never turning back

I am vulnerable
to her advances
my delicate moonshadow
- have been before

Ethereal ebb and flow that
connects distant ends
of this small world
and maybe even you and I


You talk of words
caring, sharing and more
with a tear
- mine or yours?
Certainly my fears

now the rain delicately drips
washes away this first sweet moment
that could have been
should have been
and was



Thursday, April 28, 2011

April Showers

river is swollen
sky refuses to stop crying
gray skies match my eyes
~

Just needed a reminder today.



Thursday, March 31, 2011

It's 3 o'clock and Daddy's Nowhere to be Found

It’s 3 o’clock in the morning and you are wrenched from sleep by the distinct sound of your child whimpering from their room. You dash down the hall, only to find you’re too late and not only have a child to soothe, but a mess to clean up. This is the start of a potentially long day. We’ve all been there, and it doesn’t shape up into anything pleasant, but what about if Daddy is nowhere to be found?
If you are a single parent with another child to tend to, and start your day like this, then life might be a wee bit miserable for the day. And while it might not bring much comfort, you are not alone. According to Statistics Canada’s 2006 records, 15.9 % of all families in Canada were lone-parent families. That’s 1,414,060 single-parent families within our borders[1]. There’s a lot of potential for a logistical nightmare, if those families tending to an ailing child, also have to provide for other children as well. With brains racing through the previously planned activities of the day, such as shuttling children to school, or getting to that big game, what do you do with your sick child that has their head hung in the toilet?


[1] 2006 Census – Statistics Canada



Well in my case, I hold the garbage can for my little girl's head, and pray that the bug doesn't spread beyond her. It is one thing to have an ill child, but to follow one sick child with another, or even to fall pray to illness myself, makes life more than tricky. I don't want to go down that road. I am hoping for blue skies in my tomorrow, but we shall see.

Today I begged a favour from a neighbour to watch the poor pasty girl and ran the other to school, then hunkered down for the day. I managed to still be productive between bouts of dry heaves, by working on this article (see beginning of it above) for the class that I had to cancel this evening. Laundry got done, but the icky smells in the house made that a priority, so I don't claim to be a superhero there. I kept a water glass filled and held hair out of the line of fire. I was here to help, but was mostly helpless to stop the ills of the day. It had to run its course.

Now I am tired. My sleep was interrupted and the flow of my day was far from ideal. My child was ill and I sat back and watched, offering what little support I could. I feel melancholy and alone at the end of this day. I have supports, but these are the days when I miss the normal that "you" have. You two parent families. You single parent families that can call the missing parent back into the fold for crisis. You are blessed and I hope you cherish that. I survived, but am reminded of my loss again. Damn lonely day.

I am going to lay my weary body to bed. Kiss your children. Tell your partner you love them. Let's all hold the world a little closer in our hearts today.Tomorrow is a new day.





Wednesday, February 16, 2011

survive

Wednesday.
Esoteric music plays in my ear.
A child has a hard time settling.
(Remember that in the morning when she does not want to rise)
Breathe. Be.
Sigh...

fingers let the trembling of the drum fade out of them
a hurting soul soaked in our healing rhythms.
well, more than one.
but one with pain writ in eyes, skin
and tremor that only those that know
can see.

Beats continue to heal me, but
most days I am strong enough to give back.
tonight's hurts were for the physical pain of new visitor
the emotional strain of a caregiver,
and another,
and another...

My offerings are of love
compassion that flows from pores
and sparkles with tender remembrances.
I taste their strain
and wish to blow those days
away on wings of tomorrow's sunrise

Away
on wings of a journey spent
A path trod rough and broken
with tertiary gardens askance
sown with bitter tears
of love's tragedy.

A new day,
new sunrise
sprinkled with dust
from fairy's hopeful wand
and filled life of dry gardens
with new, unbeknownst, yet mystical flowers

Spring blooms
on seeds of belief
and life's delight
as my dark night,
dim determinations and
stubborn blossoms survive


*I linked in to the very tale end of One Show Wednesday 
& think I just might throw in a link to Imperfect Prose

Thursday, January 27, 2011

My Shield

"Just take it!" I begged. "It will make you feel better."

She turned her head with a scowl. Slightly feverish lids still had the will power to clamp down and resist. 

"I want dis," she stated. A different bottle was clenched tightly in her fist and she shoved it towards me.

Probiotics. T'would seem I have created a  monster. Telling her that the probiotics would help her body, has suddenly turned on me, when the antibiotics are now refused. I sighed and quickly tried to turn on a different tactic that would not disallow either formula.  

BLAM, BLAM, BLAM, BLAM!!

I jumped and turned towards the front door. I could barely see a dark shadow hunched there. 


BLAM, BLAM, BLAM, BLAM!!

Again, the insistent hammering came. I cautiously approached the front door, forgetting all about medicine battles. I flicked on the light on the porch and a man emerged from the darkness. 

"Let me in!" he hollered. 

His eyes were wide and had a wild glint to them. A thousand TV detective shows flashed through my mind, as I hesitated and backed away a step. The door was my defense and protector for myself and my children.

"Let me IN!" he yelled again. "Please!"

He looked over his shoulder and squeezed himself towards the door even more. I took a step forward to see what he was shrinking from and saw a dog. Only then did I hear it's insistent barking and see it lunging back and forth in my front yard. 

Now I was torn again. One side of me wanted to save this poor man being attacked by a vicious animal, but another side of my brain whispered caution. Why was the dog barking? Had this young man been trying to break into someone's home? Had he been up to some mischief and the dog knew and was protecting his space? 

The young man again turned to me and flashed a panicked look.

"Please, let me in," he begged as he pulled on the company logo of his coat trying to make me understand that truly he was in trouble and needed help. 

Hesitant, but unwilling to allow more carnage than necessary, I cracked the door open. With panting breath, the poor soul edged into the protection of my home. He explained that he had just been leaving a customer's house a few doors down, when he heard barking. Turning, he had seen a large black shape racing towards him in the dark of night. Not usually one to be afraid of dogs, this time was different. This dog was vicious in its menace and was aimed straight at him. Without another thought, he ran. Mine was the first house he came to. His eyes still focused on the big, black dog that barked and spun mere meters from us.  

He looked at me and said, "I'm sorry I scared you, but I was in a panic."

I nodded and watched the dog snarl and dance. "I would be afraid too", I thought.

"My name's Nathan," he stated. 

I could still see him trembling through his thick overcoat. A shape in the distance drew our attention though. A man was moving up the street towards us, calling as he came. The dog paused to look at the approaching man, but was not yet willing to release his quarry. 

"I have a dog at home," he stated,  "but it's not vicious like that! It would not chase anyone like that."

The other man reached the dog and talked quietly to it, trying to calm it down. 

"Sorry about that, " he yelled towards us. "Hope he didn't scare you."

The dog had scared Nathan, and me through association plenty, but the tension was diffused. The dog jumped and twisted, but finally allowed itself to be leashed by its owner. Only then did Nathan visibly relax some. We watched the dog get led away, then Nathan turned and apologized once more. 

"I am headed straight to my car and not getting out," he declared. 

With that, he was gone. I closed the front door and turned back to the room. My daughter still waited for her medicine where I had left her. Neither she, nor her sister seemed fazed at all by the explosive outbreak that had rocked the house. I went back to my nurse's duties, but my mind dwelt on the incident long after the house was silent for the night. I felt my singleness and vulnerability close around me.  Life was heavy in my hands. A prayer went out to my guardian angels, as I drifted off to sleep with the night wrapped close around me for a shield.



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