
when a mother meets a secret crush


Kathy Garland has been so kind to host my article at Navigating the Change. In it, I speak a bit more about my experience with perimenopause.
I hope you take the time to read this one and let it settle in your bones for just a spell.
Peace and blessings.

I won’t claim to know
the depth of love a
mother has for her
children; how she will war
for them without hesitation,
disciplines them when it’s
necessary, and sacrifices to
keep them sustained.
She is a queen who does
not own any crowns except
the one on her head, yet she
dazzles the earth with her
power.
I can’t say I know what
she has had to do in
order to make $15.00
last until the next payday
with two other mouths
to feed, but I know
the glow around her as
it shines to reach the
rest of us.
And as we stand outside of
her realm, us … the mothering ones,
watching her and
taking notes, we can
somewhat understand.
If you are a nurturer, caretaking
for someone who needs
an extra hand, I see you.
If you race toward the overtime
offers to pull in additional funds
for a senior pet, a niece or
nephew, or your neighbor’s
neglected twins, I see you.
If you haven’t slept in
three days because your dying
cat’s medicine cost more
than your groceries, I see you.
If you are an older sibling
putting your sisters and brothers
ahead of your wants & needs,
I k n o w that place.
And as we all catapult
ourselves into a constantly
taking world, we give
and give and give until
the last bit of us is
dried up and gone.
And even then, we’ll give
some more.
For the mothering ones;
Your plight is one that
cannot be denied, and with
every piling day, may your
existence be praised from
the pits of full bellies,
from the mouths of babes,
and from the people who
need you most.
I see you.
I hope you have a friend who can remind you with a few words not to go where you feel like you’re going–one who can pull you back up when you feel like you’re sinking without doing or saying too much.

You just get it, and they just get you.
I really do hope you have a friend or friends like this, too.

four years later, I
see your face
snap its way back
into my mind, and I
am stunted by its
presence–unmovable, and
lost in the shambles of the
lake of us, and I want
to blink my eyes constantly
until I can’t see you anymore.
you didn’t even have
the heart to follow
through with every promise
promised or every word
unkept; I knew in the
second year I’d be your
doormat, and after the
sixth year, I pulled myself
up, dusted myself off, and
shot my way into a
more inviting direction.
you came back …
unable to let me live
my life without you
in it, and I saw that dimpled
cheek smile at me, and
the person I was while you
were away caved in.
I hate you for loving me
hard enough to cause me
to fear everyone else.
I love you for finally letting
me walk away and stay
away for good.
I warned you that we’d be
too much to handle, and now
you see that
I
was
right.
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