Bonding

Separation, that shouldn't be.  He calls, and the conversations are longer.  We don't see each other.  He looks different in a way I won't see until a time yet to be known.  He may notice I've aged, when that happens.

He called last to tell me I'd be proud of him.  He's into something similar that we've done together in the past, and taken initiative on his own behalf.  I couldn't be prouder, or any less concerned than usual.Quest

It's supposedly not biblical to fear or worry; it shows a lack of faith.  Next to impossible for a mother when scenarios are described where safety is at risk, regardless of whether he's 'having fun', or otherwise.  Knowing what could have gone wrong that didn't, again, is no comfort, only something to be grateful that didn't happen.  The prayers of gratitude are daily.

He likes hearing my voice, for a change, hasn't been frustrated, at least not as we speak, lately.  Something has changed, for the better.  Maybe prayers are being answered.

He could drive to see me or his grandparents now, though he won't, from years of imprinting that will take years more to transform, once he sees the world for what it is, from his own objective perspective, once out in the world long enough: not something I would dare tamper with, and it would be ineffective or not productive if attempted.  It would neither be fair, nor strengthen the bond.

It's nice to feel respected for a change, however fleeting.  He's forgotten how slow I move so that when we walk together it's hard for him to slow down enough, and walking behind is disheartening.  I don't like to ask to walk beside him instead of following, when as fast as I can isn't fast enough.  My mind moves much faster, and can exhaust my body thinking involuntarily of all that I don't know.

I only know what he tells me, and when something comes out it inevitably causes wonder about all of the other times similar things are bound to have happened I didn't know about.  Questioning beyond casual conversation would harm the bond, so I don't. 

Just grateful for each day he's safe, with his confidence as high as possible, one day at a time.  Grateful for the bond, and the years it took to build that can't be taken away.

Answers

I remember dating, and having 'crushes', and speaking on the phone, before cellphones, or computers, or email.  Song lyrics that are now classics include 'waiting by the phone' for some certain someone to call, showing their continued interest.  I don't miss those times, or a time when a call from a 'crush' was all I could think about.  Now it's similar in waiting to hear from a child.  An offspring, adult size; still a child inside.

To know he's alright makes for sounder sleep.  To know there's been minimal trauma from the past few days or so in last getting a text and the contents of the exchange being enough to know he's okay, for the most part, in what is 'normal' to him, with no basis for comparison after so many years in this existence.  He has it better than a lot of children, yet knowing the alternatives has offered no consolation, when every effort was made to provide more, with no result, because others got involved who had no real interest other than common incentives that were nothing about a childhood.

It doesn't get any easier, it just changes.  Variations on a similar theme.  The years coming are less than what has passed, yet one day or moment could define the next, for better or worse.

When grandparents were my age there were 'permanent' homes grandchildren could go to.  As yet there is no permanent home.  I have to remind him to choose a school in a place he might stay past graduation and put down roots, so a future grandmother can finally put down roots and set up a grandma's house that feels as safe and secure as other grandparents', past, present, and future.

Home will be in the same place, sooner rather than later, yet it still seems far away, just out of reach.  Making the most of every day has never been felt more; each day builds upon the next.

It could be years before I ever learn what he may be thinking lately, not having seen me for so long; he has to know or been able to figure it out, if he thinks about it, when he does.  It's nothing I can ask about, now or soon.

Hearing from him and knowing he's okay are answered prayers.  Peace of mind enough to function one more day: all we have at a time anyway.  It makes hearing from a 'crush' many years before he was born seem trivial  and almost insignificant.  There is no real comparison, other than the emotion of communication gone 'well' allows one to sleep in some sort of relevant peace, for a completely different set of reasons.  That I needed to hear the voice of a crush to lift my spirits in the past only speaks to conditioning that is no longer relevant or useful.  Hearing from a child whose world is surreal yet all he's ever known to be able to rest until a tomorrow that is not promised cannot compare to the hollow gratification that fed the insecurity of youth and surroundings.

One answer is a change of environment, which can't compare to now, a preoccupation with that future home is enough, even if all there is is today, and his answer, it has to be enough, for now.

Animals

Every morning and evening.  I'm cleaning up after small animals: my son's pets.  Hands are washed many times before all is done or leaving the house.  I never really thought of it as humbling, any more than a farmer would for shoveling up after horses or cows.  It's just what has to be done, no different than changing the diaper of a baby, as many times as necessary.  You don't think about it when they're your own.  You just do it.

It can be done in an hour if there's a need to leave to get somewhere, though I'm not comfortable being out for more than 12 hours; it's not good for them to either have too much waste around or without fresh food or water, not to mention time out of spaces where they sleep or stay during the day when no one is here to pay more attention or let them out.

There's no smell, even when coming back after a long day, so long as the routine is maintained.  I hope they live long enough to be able to enjoy a full fledged sanctuary for rescue animals, where they can come and go as they please in bigger living quarters and plenty of grass to run in outside.  They've experience it before, on vacation; they have to go along.  Not nearly often enough; it should be part of 'life at home'.

They're important, not just for the 'therapy' of having them and interacting with them daily, though for expanding the purpose of why they're here.  When doing the cleaning routine, it's almost impossible to worry or think about anything else than the task at hand, thus the therapeutic or meditative quality of the care process that takes place at least twice daily.

They know they are loved: what makes being in limited quarters bearable when the openings are closed and no one is around for hours.  They are the first and last things checked upon waking and before retiring to sleep.   All of that said, it's clearly not a lifestyle many would envy, though even with abundance and prosperity and the ability to have someone else do the maintenance, I would still want to do as much as one person can, just like now.   When more have a home on a bigger property, their friends will increase, with two legs, and more.

To Create

It's said to be the first verb in the bible.  Opened bins in storage not touched for ten years.  Contents not used nearly ten more.  Five figures of investment, sitting for nearly twenty years, not appreciating, nearly lost on several occasions. 

Survivor's guilt in knowing the hurricane took everything for some not long ago, yet grateful for what we still have.  Some was forgotten or unknown if it survived, as much was lost in other upheavals that compound the impact.  There is still mourning for what can't be replaced, and will be for some time to come.  An evolution began in the process of passing on what others would appreciate more, and what could be moved forward with.

It was therapeutic before.  No different now.  Only a different time, a different series of events in a similar chain.  There are more ideas, though mostly the expression of moving on to something better. 

Compelled to continue.  With many demands on time.  There is no down time.  Only 'what's next', hour by hour. 

There remains life with God's creatures that require attention and care: another form of therapy.  Both the creative and maintenance tasks involving life sustain themselves, which one could not do unless passionately invested in a purpose.

Objectives are not out of sight, though the way is not shown as yet as to how one thing will lead to another.  Having objectives pays the way for the means, though how the means will be utilized has not yet been revealed.

The tasks help in keeping concern at a distance, yet the urgency to complete what must be done does not stop looming.  One day's accomplishments lead to the next hour's task, no moment is ever really guaranteed to be granted, though rewards can come more easily with preparation.

There is joy in solitude, and also pain in uncovering memories of times that will not return.  The opportunity to reflect is a luxury not available to many.  It often feels more like time taken than given, the difference being a choice of action.  Being given the time was not a decision, what was done with it was, and is.

Emotional Material Explosion

Saving $200 a month by emptying a storage unit maintained at significant cost since Hurricane Sandy.  Before digital archiving, before smartphone, before tablets: an emotional minefield.

Each box with contents forgotten or unknown until the aged tape is wrestled off, each one a time capsule able to steal hours of reflection or paralysis in processing or deciding what to do next.

Imagine having a garage full of boxes from the toddlerhood of a now adult-sized child.  They take up most of the space of themselves.  Now unpack each one and decide what to do with what's inside.  In order to sort through the contents of each take up three times the space: why it's called 'unpacking'.  So it looks and feels much worse before it gets better.

When will we be on the other side of the curve is unknown: when there's less to clear and finish from having started, no point of reference for a midpoint - where or when.  It's disorienting, and exhausting, and critical for moving on.

Cherished items attached to concrete memories still kept.  Compounded loss trauma from what could not be salvaged before now.  What we know he won't remember or care about goes to other children.  The rest will await his decision and approval.  Meanwhile the process of purging remains painful, in the energy required and what it stirs up.

Time stands still, though not really.  The day feels over as soon as it started, with the exhaustion of having harvested a cornfield, only it isn't just physical.  It's mourning for time gone that can't be recovered, and what might have been that wasn't.

Technology

It was inevitable.  Sooner or later, it would only be a matter of time before the dogged late adopter that I am would be the recipient of the update that replaces what the system will no longer support.

It could no longer be avoided.  I am now tethered to email via phone.  I look differently now at others who once were annoying by constantly looking at their devices.

It's no longer necessary to take the tablet everywhere when the phone will do the job most of the time now.  Anyone else with a computer in Starbucks now looks as though they are working on important projects.

It can save money with apps, where I used to download coupons and schlep the computer into the store and up to the cash register.  Now the barcode is on the phone.

This is probably amusing to read for anyone on a smartphone for years now.  I still am painfully aware how many on the planet struggle to get to school, and, as it was when I was growing up, no access to a phone until returning home, if then.  Landlines in impoverished areas are not likely in every home.   We don't think about how they communicate where they are.  Television in public places provide news.  Parents have no communication until they are home again from school, provided there's a real home.

We still take too much for granted, when all we have for sure is the present.  What we do today paves the way for tomorrow, almost always.  Our minds go from thought to material manifestation in minutes, or years, if we have the inspiration and tenacity to follow through.  Technology, when used wisely, can also help us help others to get to their next 'upgrade', as well.  One way or another, that might just be the purpose behind the purpose.

This post is being written on a phone for the first time.  The computer has timed out, and has to be restarted, again...

Bambi

I still can't watch the movie without crying; he lost his mother in the beginning.  It's not a cute name to be made fun of, let alone be adopted by a misogyny victim playboy bunny. 

I just watched a video of a doctor giving a baby deer CPR for nearly ten minutes, until it became conscious again to join his mother who was watching in the woods nearby.  I cried again.  Some would call her crazy, a doctor, with a pool the deer fell into; I don't think so.

We can't minimize the value of life, for any creature.  Did the Garden of Gethsemane compare to the duration of a term in a concentration camp where faith will not waiver there will be deliverance?  How did Nelson Mandela get through 27 years of hard labor without losing his mind enough to become the president of a country?  Miracles do happen every day.  We take too many of them for granted. 

And sometimes, when we may be given the opportunity to be part of a miracle, we don't know it when we see it.  I leave church late on a sunny day stopping to watch the geese graze on the property.  I don't take them for granted; they're as much a part of the sanctuary as the church itself.  I know everyone wouldn't agree with me. 

Every time I see a deer or cat walking across the field or near the parking area I feel as if I'm a stranger in someone's home.  I slow down or stop to take in the beauty of nature that only a higher power could have created.  They all exist for a reason, and sometimes it's to remind us what we can't take for granted, whether we're paying attention or not.  The truth is unwavering, whether we are aware of it or not. 

Words do not change facts simply by 'virtue' of being words, that can be used as much as weapons as vehicles for peace, which is not the absence of tension, but rather the presence of justice.  MLK was inspired to create a quote he originally found in scripture.  He didn't rely on what others said was written in the book.  He read it himself.  That knowledge was part of what set him apart.  It's easy now for some of us to take for granted the times he and those before him came through.  We can't.  None of us are guaranteed anything beyond the gift that is called the present.

The End Before the Beginning

It’s over.  The ‘showing up’ is over.  There will be things that require our presence, just not where we’ve been, likely ever again.  99% of the struggle and battles happened outside of the courtroom.  What remains of that now is a decision, after 12 childhood-stealing years, intended to preserve or salvage the same.  It was made worse from day one, only different than what was anticipated, according to what was written, according to what was taught and learned.  It's not the same in 'real life'.  And few would believe it unless it happened to them.

An only child no less, and it happens to those with multiple children.  The pain for all who care cannot be imagined.  Some don't make it.  Some can't endure.  It's just too much, and understandably so, only for those who've been there.  We wouldn't wish the same on an enemy; it could mean death: wrong to wish on anyone.

Can't look at the baby photos, or all that we had before it happened.  We have our memories, now fragmented and bittersweet.  Those that we cherished, none that can be taken for granted.  It hurts so much more when we see children who are not cherished, not wanted, or treated poorly.  Why are they with those who don't love them and do so much harm, and those who moved to do something to save their childhoods had their children taken away?  For many, they were 'sold'.

Losing the equivalent of a lifetime during a lifetime is indescribable.  Our losses were someone else's gain; there were several from the other beginning, none of whom really understood or seemed to care.  It was just another day 'at the office'.  One of many, not much different from any other in particular.  Just 'another case'.

There is no real 'winning'.  We've all already lost things we can't get back.  Some will realize it much later.  Too many of us already know.  There is no 'adjustment', only picking up what pieces are left to create a new mosaic.  All broken, creating a new picture nonetheless.  Some would say the cracks make us stronger, though we may not be as pretty on the outside.  They're vessels that can hold the nurturing waters for the future, so that no childhood is ever lost again.

Reunion at the Rainbow Bridge

Our family menagerie awaits us just over the Rainbow Bridge.  Smandie and Elvis went to join Charlie last week.  Elvis was unexpected, and Smandie followed just over a day later.  It was almost too much, especially with the original owner out of town.

Our remaining healthy younger flirtatious boy, Jack, went to Elvis' adoptive home, with their consent.  They had fallen in love with Elvis as we had.  He tended to nip occasionally, which kept him at pet status, as opposed to being qualified as an emotional therapy pet.  Jack is, and is already bringing love and smiles to his new family, including their dog.

It's sad suddenly with most of our guinea pigs having gone to play over The Bridge, and the last gone to a new home, since they had lost Elvis after only having had him three weeks.  We knew he was old, though not that he would begin to fade so soon and pass just days later.

The boy a guinea pig saved had wanted to keep our oldest remaining: Smandie.  She had brought many smiles in a hotel room after Hurricane Sandy.  Now we have her in our hearts, memories, and photos.  Same for Elvis; he was so easy to love by all who met him, whether he nipped or not.  All of them went to the other side having been in loving arms; none went alone while anyone was away or not with them.  We are especially blessed for that.  It was as if they held on until we were home for them to say 'goodbye'.

Charlie has her two playmates back, as Peaches and Lucy look down from their heavenly perches, singing new songs that all of their pet family friends now understand.  They're all happy and healthy again and playmates as well with the children who skip blissfully among them.

There was little time to cry, and so much the better.  The sooner we move on as our friends now on the other side look on, the sooner the little boy who now almost looks like a man can be at a place to pick the next furry friend in his own time, giving holding such a creature a new and renewed meaning.

Au Revoir, Chuchi; Bon Voyage, Elvis (until we meet again)

Parting is such sweet sorrow.  You are loved very much.  So much that we want you to be with families that want to make you the center of their love for a long and healthy life, with other playmates just like you, and extra time and attention for play and happiness.

There's much going on now that may not allow for much fun in the present or near future, so we had to decide what was best for you.  We will miss you very much, though by now you may realize there's more fun to be had where you are, and you may be missing us less than we miss you already.

You are close by enough for us to visit, and we look forward to hearing about all of the news of your new friends and families.  We wish you plenty of extra treats, smiles, and snuggles by your new friends and humans.

You are both beautiful and special: the reasons we found you.  Taking care of you until your forever families could welcome you may have been part of the plan, as they could not have found you on their own.  We were brought together for your safety, love, and comfort until a place where you could thrive even more wanted you very much, a place that only we could take you to.

Until later, we will have our memories and visit again in our dreams.  You deserve only the best.