Quote of the day...er...week...umm...hey, look, a quote!!

Tibi gratias agimus quod nihil fumas.

It says "...freedom of...", not "...freedom from...".

Nolite te bastardes carburundorum!

"It's amazing to me how many people think that voting to have the government give poor people money is compassion. Helping poor and suffering people is compassion. Voting for our government to use guns to give money to help poor and suffering people is immoral self-righteous bullying laziness. People need to be fed, medicated, educated, clothed, and sheltered, and if we're compassionate we'll help them, but you get no moral credit for forcing other people to do what you think is right. There is great joy in helping people, but no joy in doing it at gunpoint." - Penn Jillette

Thursday, September 25, 2008

The Promise, Part Three

"Oh, child."

If ever one could feel two words keenly, cut deep to their core, know the weight of love and sorrow they contain, I did.

"Oh, child."

I could cry today, recalling. Oh, child, indeed. If I lived to the outer limits of human endurance, I would still be a child in her eyes.

I won't write out the whole of our conversation. It doesn't matter. She spoke; I listened with the whole of my being. I spoke; she listened with the whole of existence.

Most important were those first two words..."Oh, child"...and the final part.

The part where she didn't promise me a damn thing but that she was and is and always would be there - there in the trees, in the sunlight, in the wind. The part where she didn't say everything would be alright, fine, hunky-dory, that the bullying would stop, I would have justice, and my spirit would heal and there would be peace...but she'd be with me while I worked it out, while I found my place and my balance. She didn't promise she'd give or do anything - only that she knew I had it in me to give and do.

She didn't tell me I had to. She would let me go, release me to finish what I'd started if it was what I wanted. She never promised that it would get better, only that it could. She would let me go, if I wished, and I could get on with it.

She would let me go. That I would succeed, there was no doubt. We both knew I was going about it the right way, and once begun it could not be undone. And I would be gone, done, finished. I wouldn't hate my body or my self any more, wouldn't feel broken, useless, damaged and scarred.
I could choose that, or...

Or.

Or...
~~~~~
Part four HERE.

3 comments:

MereCat said...

OK, waiting... this story is making me sad. I want something good to happen, and I know that it does because your here with a beautiful, sweet son.

chris said...

let the words flow...

Kyddryn said...

Hang in there, y'all...just a couple more to go.