So I'm setting up my page on My Space this weekend, and I happen across the page of an old friend. A woman who in her younger days babysat me through my pregnancy with The Mer, and was there when he was born...six months in to her own pregnancy at the time.
Toxic Goddess Cera is her pseudonym, and standing a 5"11" I'm thrilled she's found an outlet for her wuthering heights. Goddess and I have shared some turbulent times, her struggles pale not in comparison to mine, as her sorrow has taken her far away from me. Away from the reminders of a life neither one of us lived very well.
A woman who tried desperately to reach back to me, and pull me forward after the loss of Athena. I was having nothing to do with any of that. Do I wonder what our lives might have been like had we chosen healthier, loved less, cried more, forgiven the past? Not until this precise moment, as I have an innate ability to block whatever causes discomfort completely out of my mind.
During my pregnancy with Mer-boy, I was the most creative I've ever been. I took photographs of The Goddess randomly throughout. She is beautiful at least, and glorious at her very best. I told her then, "You will create your destiny like fire"...and then I lost myself in cloth diapers, and the crack heads stole my camera gear...
A large part of us dies when we have our children, I'm uncertain how this happens. I think maybe it's so we stay with them, not running off to join the circus, or riding off into the sunset with a cowboy on a stallion. So we stay and love them, like nothing else in the whole wide world, because we've forgotten about the camera gear and the crack heads, forgotten we used to sleep on the banks of the lake all night long and watch the sun rise, forgotten we were ever angry at our old lives for not being what we expected them to be, and...it's OK.
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