The moon is full. Unsuccessful at taking a decent photo.
Then the halo, not seen by the naked eye, glows around the photo the millisecond before snapping the photo and the bright moonlit sky splits and many bits and pieces of my life, my errors, my joys, my everything from birth begins to float around me making a Joseph’s coat for my frail frame.
There has been no rant at the Universe today. A quiet day of contemplation. A few common household choirs. No strong feelings one way or the other rather an absence of feeling. I float from one room to another remembering this was not always a happy home. I rewrote my own life in this house to suit my wishes.
No one talked. Feelings were always on edge. Messages written on paper napkins. My unconditional love for my children. I could have tried to take us all to therapy. Figure out what was really going on rather than accepting the status quo. I felt I had done something to hurt my son deeply but what?
I will not know ever. Perhaps My daughter knows. Will she tell me the reality?
He chose not to tell me he had cancer. I do not know why. One night he did say, “I thought you hated me all my life”. Was it the drugs? No it was his small voice I heard and I asked him why I would have fought so hard for him all his life to make him well. He never complained. I guess he accepted his fate. I think in the end he knew I loved him and would have been glad to die in his place. I begged to go first. God, the Universe did not grant my wish.
Why? I seem to have no purpose but to tell his stories or are they mine? Am I the keeper of the stories?
I wish I could sleep.