A Letter To Me


Dear Self,
So. This is it. Deep breath in and standing silently in the middle of this silent house. The kids are all asleep. Even the cats and dogs. Sometimes you get so caught up in the daily grind whirlwind of controlled chaos that you do not even realize how very loud it can all be until night time comes and the quiet makes your ears ring and the ringing echoes and echoes and echoes……..
Against the walls where his hats used to hang and against the bed where you and he used to lay intertwined after lovemaking and against the empty shelves where his clothes used to be folded in those neat piles you liked to stack them in, partly because of your OCD and partly because that was your love for him. the folded clothes, the meals prepared, the body you gave him, the late night talks and laughter and hopes….all of it. You gave it all, didn’t you?
And perhaps some may call it a tragedy. To find yourself alone in a home of echoes late at night, one hand with its palm resting absentmindedly on your protruding belly where his child grows and twists and kicks from within. A tragedy. the loss of a man your other children loved. A tragedy, the way you toss and turn at night, half from worry over bills and the other half from an aching hole in your heart. You even have brief moments yourself, when you cry a good cry and let yourself play the woe is me game for a couple of minutes.
But there is no time for such foolishness. No time when there are sons to raise into fine young men and dishes to clean and laundry to put away and life to go on living.
And reality is. Nothing is a tragedy. NOTHING.
There are no mistakes. Not in this journey. Even when it seems you have fucked it all up beyond any feasible possibility of fixing it……To be honest, I’m not quite sure if every thing does truly happen for a reason and for a purpose, or if God/Life/Karma/Fate simply has the ability to turn any thing into perfection….but I have learned that all things really do work out in the end. No matter where you may be right now. This home is simply a stepping stone. The echoes will fade into the sounds of the future. the sounds of your sons laughter. The sound of your fingers on a keyboard again, blogging once more. The sound of that baby in you crying into the air for the very first time. the sound of life going on and the world spinningspinningspinning foreverandeveramen. Because it does and it will.
Perhaps he was just a prelude of what was to come. A break in your life. A time to feel alive after merely surviving. (Because there IS a difference, you see that now, right?) Whatever it was, it WAS. It simply was. It was memories. Shake the snowglobe and let the shitty stuff settle to the bottom and watch the good stuff swirl and swirl all around and be thankful. For that, at least. You loved him. And you did it well. And therefore, this is not a failure. Not yours. Not his. Life just goes on. Do you see?
Make enough time in your days for a little sadness or crying ,as needed. Forgive yourself for the days you walk around in your pajamas all day, a little angry at the world and bitter of all of the happy couples. It’s their time. Not yours. Not yet. Be happy for them after a bit. They’ve had their share of downs just as much as you are now. You can understand that, since you’ve had your ups. And you will again. I promise.
So, keep stepping forward. sometimes with weary, heavy steps. Sometimes just a half a step. Sometimes in leaps and bounds. People are not going to always agree with the direction you take, the choices you make. In fact, some people are going to take YOUR choices altogether too personally. They are going to slash at you with angry swords, pen you indignant words, accuse you of anything and everything just to try and get you to STOP stepping forward.
Do it anyway. Never mind the naysayers. They don’t understand anyway. It is not their place to understand. Not now. Probably not ever. And that’s ok. Love them anyway. But from a distance. Because true love must begin with one self.
You forgot that for a moment, didnt you? It’s ok. We all do. From time to time.
Just keep being you. Dance to the tune in your own heart. Even if you look off-beat to the whole wide world. Stand up and fight valiantly when your spirit calls for it. Turn your back and stoicly walk away when your soul yearns for it. Sing. Sing to fill every single empty space where the echoes used to bounce off of. Sing until there is simply no room for echoes, only the loud proclamation of the vibrations of your own heart.
Love Always,


5 responses »

  1. Love will come again when you least expect it. Just breathe and know you will make it. Cry, scream and stomp. Then get up and dust yourself off and keep going forward. We love you.

  2. Oh wow, this is beautiful. A friend sent me to read your words and I’m so glad she did. I love finding a new amazing writer to read. Sending you so much strength. I was a single mom for years, and looking back they were much better years than I ever thought they were at the time.

  3. I am so sorry that you’re going through something like this during such a busy time in your life – especially while you’re carrying that guy’s child. Ironically, I see echoes of your story in the lives of me and my girlfriend. I am autistic and suffer from depression; and, for much of 2013, I have been wallowing in my own grief and my own troubles – forgetting that she, and our own daughter (who just turned one), both need me. So needless to say, they’ve both been getting the shaft. Things will get better for you, though – with a little luck and a little prayer. I will definitely keep you – and your still-growing family – in my prayers during this difficult transition.

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