The girl who was once from NYC unintentionally transplanted to the sticky trap of the CT countryside. Teacher, singer, writer. Dancer along the path through the dark.
~May words and music and laughter light the way to kindred spirits, kind of heart~
Also a Mommy. That's the most important thing that's happened along the way, but not what this blog will be about.
Words and music and more brought to you by merisongbird.
Some things too sad for poems (even)
When loss but ties remain
And cannot take a longest leap to far away from everything
To have to stay and find a way to live with too much pain
Probably one of the hardest holiday seasons for me ever, one where I find myself questioning every thing that brought me to where I am now in my life. As always, it’s my kids who anchor me these years, and the validation I get from the occasional parent of a student who is so thankful I am here to advocate for their child, make the small inroads in small but important ways which makes a difference in their child’s life. And, of course, there are the few incredibly loyal friends who let me know here and there I am needed/I am loved. And I am grateful to still have some family left, who do love me, and tell me so. But the rest of my life is something of an empty shell. I remind myself that I used to have to walk on eggshells every day because i never knew what would make my husband snap at me, or throw a remote control at me, or greet me with the constant silence that was our communication after a while. But, by the same token, my life is no picnic now. The loneliness and worry pervades so much of my every day. I cannot just pick my life up and move and change it, and where I am I have known for a while is a lovely spot but far too small for a single woman from NYC. Little dreams keep me afloat, like the thought that maybe I can buy a small but sweet home in upstate NY after the kids are through or nearly through with HS and can decide for themselves where they want to live; near their Dad or near their Mom. And even that is so sad. My daughter tells me she’s glad I left their father because he wasn’t very nice to me most of the time.
I have grown so weary of unkind and selfish people in my life, and I don’t want to think of myself as a victim, but really, being a kind and warm person doesn’t get you much in this life, at least not in my experience. It seems to attract people initially, but there is always something far more alluring than kind and warm even if the kind and warm comes with decent packaging, albeit in an aging frame. I am so sorry to have never met anyone who loved me enough to put me first, put me on top. And as my brother tells me not to blame myself, and to try to stay positive, being a kind person doesn’t seem to garner that kind of love, or admiration. And I cannot be a person other than the one I am.
Just words and nothing more,
is all they ever were,
I see that now so clear
just smoke, beribboned air,
it drifted off so soon—
that hollow place below your chin, to rest my head and breathe your skin
and feel your neck with tender lips
imagine just the scent of what was for a whispered second
lost but not forgotten
and the wake of such destruction only fills the cup again.
Middle of the night and mornings can be the hardest times of all. I remind myself of all the reasons, the condescending, and dismissal, the cold and indifferent. But then I also think of all the warmer moments…
A life alone is a hard thing. And yet I cannot any longer imagine it any other way. I wake up with songs in my head, the coffee helps me make my way through the early fog, and i dream a bit of being truly free.
the deepest empty
passes through me
so regularly now
but since there are still tears
I know I am alive
and just as so much of the same
I can survive once again
someday life will be less lonesome for me
and I won’t have to trade who I am, and compromise my needs to have someone who wants to be kind to me
I toss about inside my mind, knowing I would not trade my beautiful kids for anything, but I still wonder why the path has had to have been so unkind despite everything I have tried…
Sometimes people just don’t grow in the same ways, and they grow apart instead of together, and it’s very sad when there is no way to make it back again.
Some things (a quiet affair) to me
Not shared (my own to keep)
Like feelings buried deep that get their wings in songs and things
But I will not do a dance that day
Nor shout it to the stars (that’s me)
I whisper close and to the heart (so sweet) all the joys or sorrows might be there
For big is big it’s true it’s huge
But love is love and past or present needs no broad-lined avenue
I’ll keep my soulful side and sparkling eyes with tears or laughter clear to see with only those so close to me
unspoken little things that bring a small big joy, fleeting even though
still, these ramblings see me through—now and then
and yesterday was spent, 6 hours of my life in a way that will do little to enhance my life, so I doodled and listened with one good ear
and today too, my inner dreams will prevail—unlikely but they keep me driving forward. And among the many constant wants and yearns, a job that taps all the creative that is me so I can have fun and be myself and be social or reclusive as I wish as I make and spin out and do to earn enough for the kids and me to find a real home again, somewhere with some love and lightshine in my life. And this was one of the songs that played in my head: (There are always so many, aren’t there?)