Today was the day to get outside and gather up all the leaves which had fallen before the snow that is predicted for tomorrow comes. Raking and then bagging leaves is back-breaking work, but you feel like you are accomplishing something. The single moms of New England do this by ourselves (who needs men?). In my corner of the world, we also did some fall cleaning and re-arranging as we got a new sofa.
Walking around Horn Pond has always been something I have enjoyed. Sometimes, it's with the kids. There have been countless laps pushing a stroller, countless visits to the Lion stone sculpture. In addition, on many lonely mornings in years past, I would walk the Pond and then "climb" Horn Pond Mountain (a very tiny mountain) and sit, sometimes for hours. The beautiful scenery, and the fact its a place memories have been made, makes me overlook the visually un-asthetic occasional beer bottle or other teenager- left item. Sometimes, you just want a safe place to think, maybe even to quietly cry. When you wear your heart on your sleeve, like I had tended to do, it's easy for it to get broken and fall into pieces.
One of the things I loved about being married, raising my kids, and having a "normal" existence, was that I had a lot of volunteer roles. Through our small church, I was responsible for the care-taking needs of the congregation. No one *wants* to eat a casserole I, of the culinarily-challenged, have prepared. I arranged meals for those in need, sometimes served as a listening ear when our pastor was on vacation, helped serve dinner at the local soup kitchen, many times with my kids. I loved my work with our local social service agency, coordinating the "Wish Tree" for local children in need. Helping at my kids' school through the PTO or SpedPac was second nature. I have always cared, an effect perhaps of being an abandoned orphan back in India. It was second nature to help when someone needed help, or to send a card (my friends call me the "Hallmark Lady"), or listen when someone needed an ear.
It never occurred to me that all the time and effort spent helping others could reasonably be construed as taking time away from my own family. I loved my kids more than anything, my marriage however was not very strong. Add two kids with significant special needs (plus a preemie in the middle) and we were doomed.
I love the fall. It's a time of reflection, a time to accept the past and move forward learning from the past. I thank God every day for my son, strangely for the fact his autism maybe doesn't allow him to say much and that his understanding is pretty impaired. It must be in some ways a gift not to have to feel the emotions the rest of us do. What he does say, most of the time, is echolalic. "I love you Mommy. I will love you when you are 42. Do you know how much Carol and Chloe love you?". He repeats these phrases over and over again, he hugs me. He is by far the most important male in my life. I miss so much about what my life used to be, but I am trying to embrace all the goodness and joy in it now.
Winter is coming too soon, the fall has been rushed. I continue on a quest for strength and peace. Sometimes, I feel I am all the names people (especially those who shouldn't matter) have thrown at me. It's what happens when you've been in an abusive relationship- you believe everything that person says. All the good and all the bad. You feel tempted to do things you know won't make you feel good about yourself. It's not like I felt like that Carrie Underwood song. It's not the raw emotion Alannis Morrisette sings about. It is a feeling of not being good enough. The hurt and sadness haven't completely lifted in the past 4.5 years since my ex-husband smothered me and choked me in front of our kids. After that, I let myself be loved by someone else. In truth, I loved him back with all my heart. With him, it was about emotional control (and he was far from emotionally stable). He wanted me to break friendships. The one most important to me, he eventually succeeded in destroying. My kids lost their friends thanks to him. Men who promise the world, want whatever you can physically offer, and then discard you when you no longer are of use to them, should all be put on a small island in the South Pacific.
Some things that help me are long walks, good thoughts, and accepting love and joy from those around me. I think I'll put on Toy Story 3 for Andrew and me. There's got to be nothing nicer than cuddling up with my little boy, watching a wonderful movie, and maybe eating some popcorn, too. A perfect fall evening, indeed.
No comments:
Post a Comment