Yesterday was Christmas.
I am constantly astounded by how my perceptions become altered by the actual life events that take place. I envisioned my Christmas holiday to be spent doing a set number of things in a particular order. I had set my day up all ready and planned. And then life happened.
My friends of a long time messaged me that they wanted to visit. I hesitated. I wanted my day to go my way. She said they wouldn’t stay long. I acquiesced against my heavy heart.
Old friends, inappropriate for the day, (I judged)
arrived full of merriment and joy.
Boisterous stories with fucking punchlines
Laughter spilling from them like beer
I’m grieving. Inappropriate.
I feel like I’m the one who is inappropriate.
I wandered through their words, but I can’t
I refocus, finding deep concerns of their own
Ones they came to share as their gift.
Just them being everything they are and I,
I sat in judgement because of my own sorrows.
How can I hold space when there is too much
As you may know, dear ones, I am no longer a chicken mom and I’ve taken it pretty hard. A role I treasured in my heart has been taken away by time and the realization that no matter how much you love someone or something, they will have to leave in whatever capacity.
Change is inevitable. It’s when we pretend that it isn’t, is when the expectations grow into a catastrophe of events. I thought my life would be a simple little chicken farmer in an urban setting. I planned on my husband and I would build it together. That vision got disrupted when I moved back down here and he and I chose individual happiness instead of mutual dissatisfaction.
By passing my thoughts of yesterday
through the filter of sleepy wisdom
I’m grateful for my fucking people
just as much as I am for my church people
(Some of which are in both categories)
That they arrived enough
to disturb my lamentations
My sorrow of a vision lost to time
My sorrow of a chosen different path
My sorrow of little friends I knew
My grief of the loss of my vision of family
I’m weeping. And lonely for that path I once walked.
See comment I made a minute ago.
I’m glad you are able to write through some of your deepest thoughts and feelings. I love reading your poems and writings because I feel I know you better and better!