Thursday, August 22, 2013

Captain Curly

This is why I have children. Because when I come home after a frustrating day at work; when the mechanic tells me my car is not fixed, when I have to beg another ride to work, when I keep adding and subtracting numbers that never quite come out the way I need, my little boy bolts  across a field ,his blond curly locks boinging off the top of his head ,as he welcomes me home. All I can think about is what i have in the larder  to prepare for dinner that I can prepare with the least amount of effort. I have not been to the grocery store in days. There is no butter, the milk is low and there is just enough cheese for the boys lunch tomorrow. The new laying hens are hungry for laying mash but with no car and no money they are getting left over grains and scrap from the  kitchen. At least they eat.  

I am blessed in ways that I am just, now, trying to understand. I carried a load down the drive. My basket full of hats to sew together and bits and pieces of food that I will use to supplement dinner, my computer ( ever faithful companion ), and this burden of car repair and disconnected means. Evan runs to greet me. 

"mom,mom!" he shouts at me " you've got to see this!"  He leads me down the path to our house and cuts a sharp right, around the fire pit and  into this little shaded patch of grass where there are at least a dozen dragon flies swooping vigorously around. I see what he sees; this small little connection in the food chain enjoying a buffet of mosquitos from my tall unmowed lawn.  All I can do is be grateful that my little guy has found this moment for me. It is truly a gift.

Yesterday I called the crisis hotline.  The last call from the mechanic was not good news. The water pump turned into a radiator repair. Ex showed up to pick up Evan without a word to ask what is going on with the car. He knows that this is a challenging time for me.  I have not asked more of him than what he has offered. But I don't think that he comprehends that what occurs in my life also affects his son. So I find myself always in a position of having to ask for his help instead of accepting his help when it is offered. This doesn't feel good to me and adds to the weight I carry right now. It feels like he has power over my life. This is the work I have to do with myself, I know this, but I feel a great resentment towards him right now, that I am having a hard time moving past.

 And then there is just the grinding weight of all that is happening right now. Just divorced a week ago, panicked that I won't be able to make my ends meet this month, humbled by the generosity and care of people and hoping for just one break in the stress this week. My car needs to be ready to drive today, PLEASE let my car be ready to drive today. I just want to be with my friends tomorrow. I want Evan to see his friends tomorrow Iwant to plant flowers in my 
therapist's garden so I can feel like I have paid for my session. 

so he pulls away with our son in his working truck…and I call the crisis hot line, overwhelmed by my circumstance and the creeping anxiety that comes when it is the 20th of the month ( my wedding anniversary, yay me). Every penny I have earned; including some of  what my ex gives me,  has gone into some sort of car repair.  I have to make my mortgage in 11 days and it is going to be close.  Never mind gas for the car when it finally works and oh..this thing called  food

So I call weeping. I just need this week to be over. I need this moment to be over. The hell with living in the moment. Who wants this moment, this here and now?? Not Me!

the kind man who speaks in validating language just listens, asks if I am going to hurt myself "No, I just need to get beyond this moment.  It can only get better right?" I try to convince myself, but after this string of really rotten luck it is really hard to convince myself of this.

I know what I have to do next. I have to have a plan. What is my plan? My plan is go for a walk. No, my plan is to go for a run. I haven't been for a run in a good year but I am in pretty good shape from all the haying I have done over this past summer so I run. One mile, two miles, up the Glenn Harris Hill no problem…to the pavement, turn around…no keep on going. the running is easy, my body is needing this.. finally 5 miles my body says enough, I walk the last 2 miles home. The tears still come but my body feels released from this grip of stress that has it in knots.

The next afternoon after Evan shows me the dancing dragonflies I  get home and get to work on dinner.  Evan is plinking on the piano. I can tell that he is feeling some anxiety because he is extra cuddly these days. At one point his background chatter gets really quiet . Soon he is in the kitchen and on his face is a paper mask; ringing the mask are his sweet, sweet blond curls.. He wears a white jumpsuit that he has had since he was two and has been the vital element to several homemade Halloween Costumes. The sleeves are up to his elbows at this point. The pants are higher than high waters. Around his neck is a blanket he has had since he was a baby. 

" I am Captain Curly!" 

What can I do? But enjoy this moment. This simple goofy, kind magic that comes and pulls me up for just this moment…