words to the wild child.

We have always been like Lorelei and Rory…freakishly linked. How many times have I called from the road to say, “hey I’m almost there…wake up...we need to talk” like some sort of early maternal warning system?

You’re a couple now. I can’t just descend upon you before the everlovin’ crack of dawn with twelve minutes notice, bagels and donuts.

I stare at the phone in my hand. I’m an e-phn coward for crying out loud. Crying…not so loud. Dialing…deep breathing…throat clearing…“hey sugarcookie” small talk…et cetera…. Then I pause…"hey sweetie…I’m gonna wreck your day”

I wait for your transition… I hear your soft “okay”…

And...I...just...tell you…cause she’s your Gammer-Kay. There are no easy words. She wants you to know. She wants to talk with you herself…about what it is…about what it means. But…she doesn’t want to actually tell you. You are her “sweet pea.” She is the one you take after…you are two peas in a pod. I just tell you….and you cry….and I cry….and I am thankful you have someone there with you who loves you.

You ask about the kids. And no…I can’t tell the kids yet. They don’t react well when I cry. They feel anxious but they display anger. I can’t tell them…“My Mama now has what your Mama died from” I can’t tell them yet.

damn. Damn. DAMN.
I thought we had won already. I thought we had this beat. “We”… ha…that’s a joke. It wasn’t me…I didn’t do anything.

You remind me to be careful. You know the first time when I passed out cause I hadn’t slept in the better part of a week and running up the staircase made me dizzy. You know the second time when on the way back I chose scraping and sparking along the center divider rather than playing tag with the big rig at 60 miles an hour. ( I never told my Mama about either…cause I didn’t want her to worry about ME. I didn’t want her using her energy on ME. I don’t want anyone thinking I am not handling it well…I want everyone to think I’m battling)

Battle
the war-cry of an archangel
Although I am not the one under attack…again.
I am willing to enter into battle…again.

It is not my fight…
but it is our battle

There is nothing I can do to stop it.
However... I will battle.

Weapons of choice:
knowledge and information....data and details
(dear God I love the internet)
laughter and aromasin...cabernet and chocolate
All laced with prayer…a whole lotta prayer….

I am not ready….NOT READY…to face this battle…
god DAMN it…I thought we had won already.