The Unbreakable has Shattered

This is unedited

A Diner opens it’s doors
and stays open day and night.
They feed food to all,
and coffee where conversation was bright.
The customer’s are loyal.
Morning, noon, night and even when the world is alseep.
The food is decent,
Conversation is better, laughter and even times to weep.
A small family forms,
We watch the others, to laugh, to cry, even to poke fun.
The door that lets them in,
Strong ‘unbreakable’ glass
(as all resteraunt doors should be!)
This door is the key to the fellowship,
It lets people in and keeps out the weather,
It allows the last wave
Till we can once again be together.
The winter wind freezes it
The summer heat bakes it
The spring and fall winds blow it
And it stands strong.
A drunk, or 2 or 10 or more
Tumble into it. A toddler bangs it’s cup on it.
A strong door, the entry to the place where
We all share our lives … and loves .. and disapppointment.
One day, a young 6 year old boy
His 8 year old brother tuants.
And the 6 year old boy goes to the parking lot
Picks up a pebble, the size of a pencil eraser
Or smaller
And he, in his anger … chuncks with all his might
This tiny pebble at his brother’s head
And the door shatters
Glass
Every where
Tiny shards
What once protected from the elements
What once allowed hello’s and good byes
Was now a pile of junk on the floor ..
The unbreakable …
it broke.
No. It shattered.
My heart felt that way …
Letting people in and out.
Sometimes frozen
Sometimes baking in the heat of
Pain that comes only from hell
Bumped into
Pushed into
Abused at times
But functional … and secure and unbreakable
But someone threw a pebble
With just the right force
With just the right ambient temperature
With just the right spot on the vunerability of my soul
And now I’m
Broken
Shattered
In pieces a shocking pile of broken unbreakables
And unable to fix myself.

World Suicide Prevention Day

So today is World Suicide Prevention Day.

I've already seen a comment on twitter that it is 'just another day' the implication being that it's akin to "draw a flower day" (a silly day made up for purposes of this post)

The reality is ... for people like me .. we wish that this day had existed when suicide hit our family. We wish that more people understood the implications of suicide. We wish that things were different than they are.

I've blogged about my step dad on many occassions. If you've read this blog for any amount of time, you know that my step dad was my "Daddy". You know that the bond between him and I was stronger than any blood tie. You know that my world revolved around him.

He was 1 of 2 people in my life who I *knew* gave me unconditional love. (the other being my step mother)

When my world collided with suicide, I learned my world would never be the same.

One of my memories from childhood, well, several of my memories from childhood but I'll focus on this one, is of me coming home from school after a day of being bullied.

Dad was in the garden, so I changed clothes and went out to help him, something I did more often than not. I walked out to the garden and went to what was 'my' radishes. I bent down and started to pull the weeds out.

As I progressed, I realized tears were falling down my face. I wiped them away ... and my face became not only tear stained, but mud stained as well.
Daddy called me to the end of the radish row and then gave me a hug. He just stood there and let me cry. When I stopped crying, he pulled back a bit and sat down. I sat in his lap ...out there in the garden with all those plants that he and I tended to so carefully. The weed piles here and there ...ugly reminders that no matter how beautiful something is, there is something waiting to crowd it out if it's not carefully tended to.

He looked me straight in the eye and without blinking said "Darling, what is wrong?" Darling .. a word he used sparingly ... it meant "I'm focused on you, and only you. You, for this moment in time are the center of my world" (I was an adult before I realized that)

I told him about that days bullying episode. I still remember it, but it's not germaine to this story.

As I told him, the saddness on his face became apparent. When I finished, he hugged me again. He told me how sorry he was, and that he knew that his love didn't change the insults hurled at me by children who were my peers. But that his love was forever ...and their insults would fade ..some day. He was right. I still feel his love, but the insults ... they stay in the back of my mind, in a box ... where they belong. I no longer feel the impact of those insults.


When I was 14, his depression crowded out the love that we, as a family, had for him. His great tenderness ...the thing that made him such a wonderful father ... is the same thing that allowed him to feel the depression to such great depths. In his depression, he felt that we would be better off without him. He was oh so wrong. To this day, there are things that I wish I could tell him. Things I NEED him to do for me. Things I wish I could share with him. Not a day in my life has gone by that I haven't wished for a hug from him.

If you're considering suicide ... please know, that no matter how desperate you're feeling, no matter how alone, no matter how much you think that those around you would be better off ... they won't be. There will be a hole that nothing can fill in your absence. The world would NOT be better off without you. The pain and chaos left behind can only be prevented by your continuing presence in this world. Reach out. Accept the love offered. Let those reaching to you reach you.

No one exists in a vaccum. You matter ... to someone ... to me.

(the link is a poem I wrote to my Daddy on the 25th anniversary of his death)

What a Difference a Day Makes

My life has entered a new phase.
My parenting has entered a new phase.
My marriage has entered a new phase.

My oldest son has left the nest. For those that have been reading my blog for years, you may be wondering how he got old enough to do such a thing? Apparently the same way I got to be the age I am .. one day at a time.

I'm, to be honest, ready. Maybe the key is that he brought his best friend to live with us 8 months ago, and then 4 months ago, Benjamin's best friend came to live with us. Maybe the key to being ready for your child to leave is them bringing home extra's .. to LIVE.

I was ready to have my bathroom back.
Ready to know how many I was cooking for. (who will be here? None of us, we've got ABC to do. Cook for 3, and they come home and say "where's dinner?" Or : who will be here? All of us, we're all off. Cook for 6 and 5 minutes before dinner was done ... they go trampsing out the door "oh, we decided to go get Buffalo Wings" ARGH!! that, was truly mind boggling, and aggrivating ..not to mention felt quite disrespectful at times)
I was ready to have my driveway back ...yes, my driveway. It is a 3 car driveway .. but all in length .. it's 1 car wide, 3 cars long. So if it rained, someone would have to move car so that I could get out, or I'd have to move car so they could get out.
Ready to know who was in my house at any given time.
I was ready to not have to worry about the washing machine and who had stuff in there when I needed it.
Ready to have some sense of privacy back.
Most importantly
I was ready for my youngest son to not have the intellectual competition around all the time. My sons friends are every bit as smart as Samuel ... my husband and I are not exactly lacking in the area of intelligence and that, is a lot, of intelligence in my son's face at all times. I was watching him feel like he had something to prove ... he has to face that at school, is it really fair to have to face it at home? He was becoming increasingly frustrated and his need to PROVE was increasing as the days went on. He is ready to not have to be anything but who he is, at least at home where it's always been safe to be so.

I have the normal concerns "will he be ok?"
Will he call ? Will he forget that he has a family? Will he behave? Will he act in a way that is not in keeping with the way he was raised? Will he get evicted for one reason or another? Will he pay his bills? Will he wind up right back in our house?

We've told him that we're proud of him (we are) and that we're excited for him ... but he needs to come back and call ..do not turn me into a "stalker mom" from a "soccer mom" who has to stalk her child to get a glimpse of what was once a huge part of her day ... and will always be a huge part of her heart.

We're proud of the choices he's making. They are smart ...but more importantly, they are wise.

We're proud of the friends he's chosen. We love them. The 2 that lived here, long before they lived here, had become known as son #3 and son # 4.

We're proud of who he is as a person but we're ready (more me than Don) for them to LAUNCH!

A week ago this morning, I didn't know they were moving out. Today, they are waking up in their own apartment.

And we have gone from 4 to 5 to 6 ... and then there were 3. *smile*