I’ve learned to never say never..
I’ve decided to move beyond Puro Love, Puro Clothespins and move on to another blog I’ve had for several years. One of several I’m working on consolidating (what’s up with my life?!)
This site did its job in keeping the memory of my mother company during the month of March (and SOLC), two months after she died.
A planned project was connected to the blog.. I’m shelving it until the summer when I have the emotional capacity to handle it. Plots points are: growing up in an apocalyptic family, with men who hated by using religion as a cudgel. One who found grace to pull himself out of it, the other who didn’t — the havoc he caused and the final cost my mother paid in protecting him.
Plans for this would include going back to my hometown, dredging up emotions, confronting the past, writing intensely for about a month, and getting back my piano.
Mom’s project didn’t take off because the contact I had with humanity let me rise above my sorrow. I do regret I didn’t stay in long enough to, perhaps, write more.. but I trust in the writing I did collect over these months in my Notebook and in this blog. If I know me, the rage is still there, deep. It will come to the page when I’m ready to visit it again.
I’m also moving on, for now, for two reasons: 1) I’m finding justice in the court system. Official authorities believe me when I say my brother is nuts and has engaged in criminal behavior, so the pressure for a “Here’s the Truth..” writing has been relieved a bit. I will feel the urge again to speak this Truth, I know, when I revisit my hometown and encounter the “he’s a saint” vibe. In my life, I’ve designated myself as a tattle of truth* (another blog post). I take secrets to the grave, but not those that fool people unnecessarily.. and my brother’s side of the story need the light of day.
The other thing is 2.) Mom. For close to 3 years, my life was put on hold as I waited for the words to reach her lips to fix what was rightfully her — her authority and right as a mother to call the shots in her own life and the life of her husband. I worried about my parents, she knew we all did, but she dismissed this, put us on hold.. and in the end, we all went through this tragic, tragic end drama of not being there when she died, and then her death hidden from us for 5 days. Part of this is Mom’s doing. And right now, I’ve got my own marriage drama going on, I’ve gotta cope, I’ve gotta teach and be mentally, emotionally, and physically present for my students, and I’ve children I’m still raising at home. On top of all that, I want to find time to write and pursue my interest in being published someday. I have got to move on. And, if I know anything about my mother, she would want me to stop mulling around, get off my rear, get off the subject of the past and move “¡Adelante!”
I’m dead, ya, what can you do? I’m not there, I’m here, wherever you are.
But you know I’m still gonna tell the story about Jim, Ma.
I don’t care.
Good. ‘Cause you know whatever he did, he’s got coming to him, if only in words, Ma.
You said you wrote a book and were going to be a writer.
Yes.. I did and said so.
Pues, ya. Do it. Your girls need to see you do it.
I’m going to start hanging out at Dad’s.. there’s a part of his spirit that I need in my life right now.. 🙂