Category: journey

to you, who broke my heart…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay5 Comments
Dear Uterus, 
You sucked. Seriously… 
You were given how many jobs? Menstrual cycle, babies… Isn’t that kind of it? 
I mean, i completely get messing up sometimes. What’s a missed period here, or some extra troublesome cramps there? I totally could have worked with that… None of us are perfect… 
But what you did to me, for no reason, goes beyond the bounds of uterine decency. 
Were you special needs? Were you born sociopathic? I just don’t get what I ever did to deserve your incessant bullying. I did the math once and in the 11 years where our job was to work together- you failed me 132 times. That is ONE HUNDRED and THIRTY TWO TIMES… So, in a nutshell: EVERY FREAKING MONTH. And you couldn’t regularly screw up either.
No. 
I mean, what did you do? Were you Sybil of the organ world? Multiple personalities galore? One month you would become “skip a cycle, but here have hellishly bed-riddening cramps”, and then three months later be “here’s your period!” (ala’s JN from The Shining) 
And while we’re on the subject- about those “periods”… yeah. You knew you weren’t God, right? Sending down a rush of blood in the way Noah dealt with rain was a little unrealistic. 
I could have forgiven you for the completely uncalulatable, a bazillin-knives-in-the-gut cramped out, and completely embarrassing trail-of-blood memories but it was the next part that you took to far. 
One miscarriage, as heartbroken as I felt, would have been bearable. Even the doctors assured me that was normal. But why the second, with the perfect baby-boy ultra sound and the joyful husband met by crushing blows of suffocation and heartache? Why the third, fourth or fifth/sixth for that matter? Why take me (us, really) through all of that only to accept our fertility drugs and feign three months of pregnancy only to psych us with what was actually a nerf football sized tumor… 
Enough was never enough with you. You took and took, literally… Blood, babies, life, tears and then you tried to go for the kill and take my heart too. 
Your last deal- pre-cancerous cells… 
With your poker face you dared me to make a move. 
I saw your puny cancer threat and raised you a hysterectomy, bitch… 
Take that… 
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Someone from your childhood…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay2 Comments
This letter is for a J name that I can actually stand behind, because J, you know how much I love… 
In fact, I don’t even know what to say to you, there is just so much. 
You, you are excitement… 
You are adventure… Glamour and glitter, fashion and fame. 
You, my dear, are truly, truly, truly outrageous.
Thanks for being the rockin’est element of my youthful years…

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Joy…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay7 Comments
I am taking part in this weeks Five Minute friday, even though I wasn’t planning on it due to the letters. Reading  Gypsy Mama’s post this morning really tugged at my heart strings… 
So here goes… 
Start. 
The giggle of a toe headed, ringlet crowned girl reminds me of something I often ignore. It isn’t ever that i forget because I am way too smart for that. 
No, i grab hold of a reason to feel another thing- be it resentment or sadness, self pity or exhaustion, and I simply pretend like joy isn’t mine to have. 
Joy. 
Joy during the dark storm clouds. During the fat droplets of umbrella-less rain. 
Joy when sleep stubbornly refuses to come my way. 
Joy when my pot boils over, because is it not a blessing to have the bubbling water, source of cooking and pasta anyhow? 
It’s so easy to think of. Easy to convict myself of all of the reasons to find joy in every second of every moment, in every moment of every day. Easy. 
And yet. 
Yet, i flee from it for something more comfortable- something ugly. 
Something I believe to be more me. 
Seeing truth in this joylessness, seeing the honesty in my reason might not be enough to remember to grasp for the option less chosen. But it also might be the motivation I need. 
Today. Now. At 8:20 in the morning I’ve embraced joy and I’m not letting go… 
End. 
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We don’t get to talk often…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay2 Comments
Dearest Joy and Jennie, 
I am sorry that we don’t get to talk as often as I would like for us to. This adulthood gig is often a bit harder than I had once thought. It’s amazing how the early morning can dawn a brand new day with a fresh clean slate, and after three blinks and a whole lot of rushing- it’s past time for bed. 
How does that time warp happen? 
Despite not talking as often as I would like. Despite not seeing each other as often as I’d like- which, for the record, I’d like more than talking… I want you both to know I love you. 
I love you and I am always there for you. 
I love your kids… Your beautiful families. 
You are both beautiful mothers. I know this, even if I don’t talk to you as often as I’d like… Even if I barely get to see you. Your babies are so blessed to have your love… 
I love that my childhood is entwined with yours. For twelve years, before I was led to your doorstep, I begged God for a sister. Even then, as those childhood tears hit my pillow- God knew I would someday have three. While it is a horribly tragic thing that the world has to have children’s homes and foster care- there aren’t words to tell you how grateful I am, that my sad path led me to you. 
Thank you for sharing your amazing parents. 
Thank you for playing in the Holly Hobby kitchen, for remembering last lines in books (that I don’t even remember), for sharing a passion for 90’s flicks, and for being such beautiful, strong and amazing girls-turned-women. Thank you for opening your hearts to me still, beyond the CCR days. Thank you for loving my family and from the deepest depths of my soul thank you for keeping me in the loop and including me in the intimate and agonizing time surrounding the loss of mom. 
I am so proud of you both. 
Proud to know you. 
Proud to love you. 
Proud to call you my sisters…  
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Oh babies…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay5 Comments
I have thought of you, dreamed of you and imagined you more than I’ve given collective thought to any other person. I’ve imagined your tiny fingers and your sweet toes. 
I have dreamed of what your sweet skin would have smelled like. 
I have ached to know more than the imagination of what your wiggly, warm little body would have felt like in my arms. 
Less and less I am kept awake, in the darkness of the night, by thoughts of you. 
More and more the aching subsides, to know you. 
I wish that I could have met you… That things would have been different for you… 
For us. 
Never more than a tear away, my soul reaches for you often. 
And someday, on the other side of this life time, I will finally know what your eyes look like and how the curl of your lashes lay, or the perfection of your smiles. The decade-long burning question of what your favorite color would have been, will be no more. Surely there are favorite colors in heaven…
You were mine, safely nestled inside of me, but for a moment. Now I imagine you all golden curled ringlets, rosy cheeks and little boy tough. I imagine you happy and spirit whole, playing with other precious children who never knew the cold hardness of life. I hope you remember to gift hugs to your grandma Julie, great grandma and grandpa Dugan as they surely aren’t too far away from you. 
Wait for us. 
Your daddy and I are coming, it just isn’t quite time yet. 
I wish I could have touched you, heard you, held you. 
I ache to meet you… 
I breathe easier knowing that someday I will. 
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