Saturday, December 29, 2012


Last night my husband proved his meddle as Great Husband by simply comforting me as I went through a cycle of PMS tears that just kept repeating, cycling again and again from one thing to the next.

It started with my thinking about how much my kids have grown and how their baby and childhood years are behind us, never to return...  How, oh how, can those days be over already?  I keep dreaming about my little ones.  Sometimes I have a small child in my dreams that switches from The Doctor to Bonobo and back again and I am adoring that child so intensely that I don't want to look away.  Yesterday morning I didn't want to wake up from that dream.

Then my thoughts move on to my daughter that I did not raise.  (Her name is Lindsey.)  I made a plan of adoption for her in the 80's with a great deal of pain and absolutely NO support.  So many aspects of this situation are upsetting, but last night's tears were about how her father's parents never once asked me about her or talked about her or ever mentioned her again in all of the years that he and I were together.  We were together for three years after she was born.  How can people live in such denial?  And, furthermore, what a lovely life to never face the pain, eh?  Their loss.  And hers.  And now, to be living without her...somehow this is our life...our loss...

Then, on to feeling the loss of my wonderful Aunt Elizabeth.  I think of her so often and miss her terribly.

Then, on to missing my grandmas.  I loved them and was very, very close to my mom's mom.

And then on to thinking about how sad and lonely I used to feel as a child, teen, early twenties, feeling so different and always wondering what did people talk to each other about...

Then, moving along in the PMS tears, to how fearful I am that I am messing up my children for life...

And back to my big they have gotten already...those years, never to return...

OH, I was accidentally off of my antidepressant...better now


If you enjoyed this post perhaps you would also enjoy:
My Boy
or this one:
That's My Girl

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