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Welcome to “The Big Damn Easy”

Click click, I breathe out. Click click, My eyes are tightly closed. Click click, I journey back. The rumble of the train moves down the line. I am still. I hear the roar as the train rumbles down the line. The cars click as they pass over the section of old track. This is what home sounds like. I’ve not spent the night in my home town in years. It haunts me. My dreams drove me deep into my past that night. Two days later the ghosts still have me in their grips even though I’m damn near in Alabama now.

My hometown is a great place. The many beauties always made me happy. There’s lake, river and creeks for miles. In my early adulthood I was captivated by the lake. I’d go out early in the morning and ride my wave runner all day. I’d come home just before dark. I could always find my clarity out on Tim’s Ford Lake. My town was full of wooded areas and open fields. It was a sleepy little town. When I got older I started calling it The Big Damn Easy because well everything was easy. The days went by slowly. There was always a stillness in the air.  There is so much peace there even when there was none for me.

The train rolled trough several times a day. It was comforting to me. After a while you sleep through the train. When I moved to Nashville I found comfort in the sound of the train and the airport just up ahead. I slept through them. I can’t sleep anymore through the night. I don’t have my train to soothe me to sleep anymore.

The other night I was too exhausted to make the long drive home. I was anxious but decided to stay put. The ghosts were going to dance in my head all night. I guess it was time for them to haunt me and get it over with. I was almost asleep when I heard the whistle in the distance. The windows started to shake as the beast got closer. The whistle blew three times at the crossing then barreled down the track. My heart was beating out of my chest. I held my breath as the train screamed passed the house. Then came the clicking of the cars. The rhythm soothes me to sleep.

My mind comes alive with days from the past. All the people I ever loved sit up on Blueberry Hill. We laugh at the stories told. The fish fry is a wonderful time with endless food. The yard is perfectly cut and the grass is a deep green. The kids run around and play. The laughter is infectious. Papa plays the guitar and I hang on every cord. Everyone is home. It’s just like it used to be. Sickness and death do not live here. Tragedy is not welcome on Blueberry Hill. We play baseball in the field until you can’t see the ball anymore.

The train screams down the tracks ripping me from my reunion. I wipe the tears from my eyes. I do it with a smile because I know I won’t be away forever.

The train screams down the tracks ripping me from my reunion. I wipe the tears from my eyes. I do it with a smile because I know I won’t be away forever.

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Mother of a Mad and Dysfunctional Daughter

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A Mother’s Love is Unconditional Even if You Are a Little Mad.

I embrace my weirdness and all my dysfunction. I always have been a little off. I don’t conform. I am difficult and stubborn. I’m hard to handle most days. I’m not ideal. I know I didn’t turn out as she planned. When I hit early adulthood I became difficult and did things my way. I ruined an awful lot of things in my life. I had it all and now I only have my family.

I never really thought about how difficult I’ve been for my mom until now. I feel bad for her. I don’t know why I never listened to my mother. She was always right. I didn’t want her to be. I sure as hell wouldn’t admit it at the time either. I insisted on doing everything the opposite way. I don’t know how she could stomach me at times. I was hell-bent on bucking her rules. If she hated what I wore then I made it a point to wear it out. I don’t know why I felt the need to challenge her every move. I know I made her miserable. I regret it everyday.

When I was pregnant with my oldest son I carried around a lot of guilt. I cried all the time when I thought about how horrible I treated my mother. I wanted to go home to my mom everyday. I was too ashamed of my behavior to ask her if I could come home. I stuck it out. My guilt and misery kept me company. The day my son was born I felt like I understood. It was as if a spirit came to me and whispered the meaning of life in my ear. I never knew such clarity. I understood my mother at that moment. The shame was overwhelming. I treated my mother horrible and I am an asshole.

I never got it right. I continued my mistakes over the years. I divorced and lived with my son. Things got better for me. Then I had another baby. I know it upset my mother. I never meant to hurt her. I suck at being a single parent of two boys. I’ve had to have lots of help over the years. I became more and more dysfunctional over the years. I started having problems with my shoulder and arm. I went and had some tests done and was shocked to find out I had two herniated discs in my neck with nerve compression. I have two more herniated in my lower back. I was also told I had degenerative disc disease. After a while the pain was intense.Everyday life became harder. Poor mom to the rescue.

I have been a burden on my mother. I am deeply sorry for turning out this way. I have watched my mother grow as a person over the course of my lifetime. She started out as a stay at home mother to three girls. She went to school and became a LPN. She never stopped working or going to school. My mom is now a respected Nurse Practitioner. She made her life. She juggled three kids,a marriage,work and school. I can’t even get the parenting thing down. I am very proud of her. Her drive is amazing. She is kind to her patients and truly cares about them. I know it’s not easy having a dysfunctional, woman-child for a daughter. Mom loves me anyway. I embarrass her. She is private and I’m not. I’ve tried to tone it down some. I’m not always successful.

I love my mother with all my soul. She’s taught me so much. I don’t know where I’d be without her. It wouldn’t be anywhere good. The picture of Jason Voorhees and his mother fit my life. My mom is loving and accepting of me no matter how outlandish I look or act. I know this isn’t exactly what she planned for when I was born. Thank goodness for her that my sisters are normal. Somebody has to be different. Thank you Mom for being my safe passage in life. You have been my Constant in the midst of my madness and all the chaos that ensued. I am blessed to call you Mom.

Just Let Go

I’ve not written in a while. I have too much going on inside my head. I am conflicted. There is too much unrest. I do not know what to do. I thought I had everything under control. The lies I tell myself are big. The solutions are not pleasant. I can’t bring myself to let go of my current situation. It hurts too bad even though I know things will never be how I need them to be.

I’m disconnected from the situation. I am an observer and feel removed. I see her. She isn’t happy this way. She is not needed. She is not important. She has to keep quiet. Mostly, she is not loved. She is someone of convenience. She doesn’t call the shots because she waits. She hates waiting to be noticed. She’s hidden from the sun. She is wilting. She just can’t be this way anymore.

I’ve been patient. I stopped holding back hoping it would help. I wasn’t happy very long. I gave of myself and it didn’t come back. I’ve been given nice things that I needed. I’m grateful for the gestures. I only really wanted to be loved. I understand that not everyone has the feelings I do. My idea of love differs from that of another. I can’t be left to guess. I have to know. I can not be a part-time hobby. I am not capable of giving all of myself to someone who doesn’t want to do the same for me.

Here I am in the silence of the dark. This is my normal. The light comes in then as it leaves me I crumble. Just like the last time I am here again. I had hoped this time around it would be different. I know that we are the same people as before. There is no change for us. We are too different. I can’t give him what he needs. He can’t give me the things I need to flourish. It’s painful to admit. My heart hurts. It’s not healthy to hold on to hope. This is the way it is. Just let go. Please set me free.