Friday, May 10, 2013

Mother's Day, in Abeyance

So I've been having a rough week.

Everything seems to set me off into tears. I've been irritable. If I were anyone else you could say I'm PMS'ing... only I don't normally succumb to the hormonal grumpies that many women do. I finally realized what's really got me down.

It's that time again... Mother's Day.

How can I celebrate Mother's Day fully, when I haven't gotten to spend it with two of my children in as many years? It's grand, being here for my Dragon and the dragonette. Though our surroundings are not so grand, and our future outlook is in grave jeapordy, and every day my goal... the one life dream I have actually clung to... seems farther and farther away, I am still mother to that dragonette and partner to the most lovely man I have ever known.  My dragonette, my one and a half year old Moira, is a pistol and then some... She is too smart for her britches. She is sweet and clever and learns faster than I would have thought possible, and both of her big sisters are spooky-smart. Her father has an IQ that's over 30 points north of genius, and she seems smarter than he is. If I were not her mother, I am sure I would have gone mad by now. Between the two of them, my Dragon and dragonette, they keep me sane, and keep me hoping.

But I can never forget that there are two missing, two treasures that have been stolen away through trickery and under false pretenses.

Caroline. My ten... almost eleven... year old, my firstborn. She was born under less than auspicious circumstances but that does not lessen any of the brightness and wonder that is my Caraboo. For six years, she was my only reason to take joy in my life. She was my smile. She was the pearl in my crown. She is smart, gentle, sweet, and caring to a fault. She loves Tae Kwon Do, drawing, reading, and Minecraft (not necessarily in that order). She is a beanpole, like I was at that age. (I am not a beanpole now, for the single virtue of not being tall enough to be considered such, though I am still a scrawny girl). Caroline Brianna. I promised you at Christmas two years ago that one day I would fix things, that it might take time and she'd have to be patient and have faith, but one day things would be the way she dreamed. It's two years later and I am at once closer and further away from fulfilling that promise, but it will happen. Gods grant it may be before another two years has passed.

Isabella. My Bellaboo. My angel. You were two years old when you were taken from me. You cried, heartbroken. It was the only time you've ever cried to see me leave. That was one moment in a short, harsh series of moments that broke me apart and tore me down until I didn't know who I was anymore, and I am still figuring out how to put the pieces back together again. Two years later, my almost four and a half year old angel, and I haven't been allowed to spend enough time with you to know you. I know your favorite colors are purple and pink. I know you like to dance (But then which of my daughters doesn't?), and I know you are sweet, sly, and clever. I know you are a sensitive child. I know you get frustrated by the fact that your little toddler legs are so much shorter than your big sister's. I know you are beginning to lose the knowledge of who your mommy is, and why you should care that I'm not around...

And for both of you together: I know you miss your baby sister. I know you're being neglected. I know you're wondering what happened to me. I know we don't get to talk as often as any of us would like. I know you deserve better than you could ever get where you are, and I know I can give you that. I love you both. You are two pieces of my world that will only be complete and whole again when you are with me, and I have time to make up for the wrongs done us.

And for all three of my beautiful daughters, simply this: I love you. Know that I am always here for you. Know that I will always protect you to the best of my ability. Know that you are always in my thoughts, always in my heart, and always in my prayers.

In closing, I cannot wait for the day when Mother's Day can be an abundantly joyful time for me, instead of the bittersweet pleasure most of my days now are. I am so tired of the unpleasantness salting the dry earth. I am ready for the rains to come and wash it away. I am ready for the dying-ground to once again be the growing-ground, for fertile, fecund earth to bring forth new life.

Now if only the rest of my life would get its shit together and catch up....

No comments:

Post a Comment