Barefoot & Breathless

Taking a Necessary Reprieve

Into the pages of the past I creep, as the present unfurls into uncertain tomorrows.

 

I haven't been around much lately, and it has been for reasons more than just spring cleaning and gardening. I have so much that I wish to do with this blog...with my life even, that doesn't seem to be happening at the moment. I have the best of intentions, but I'm too distraught, too stressed out lately to accomplish much of anything. I need to step back a little. The wonderful thing about this blog is that it will still be here when I'm ready for it, and if I lose interest from readers in the meantime, so be it. I need to take care of this. I need to heal myself. This year is not only about my physical health, but it must also be about my mental health. I must take this time to become the person I once was, and at the moment, even the pressure of posting regularly seems a daunting task. 

 

I have some things that I've been avoiding for the last 5 years...skeletons in my closet, so to speak, that can no longer be avoided. It's time I focus my attention on this. I can't keep ignoring it, or it will continue to consume me and with it all my energy for life. It is affecting my family and my ability to be a good mother. So, I must keep myself away from other distractions for the moment and focus on what needs to be done. If you'd like to hear more about my story and what I will be doing over the next few days, weeks, or months, however long it takes...you can read more on the page I've written: Where Children Shouldn't Be.

 

From time to time I may feel the urge to share something that occurs to me as I go through this process, but I will make no commitment as to when, or even if I will share at this point in time. For now I just have to take things one day at a time. See you again soon, and thanks for understanding,

 

Darcey

In Memory...

I wandered for a moment today,

beyond the boundaries of my day to day. 

 

 

 I rambled past the state-line,

down twisted roads and country lanes...

back to my grandmothers house,

my mother's house,

the basement once built by my grandfather.

 

 

 

I wandered into the vacant yard,

through the empty rooms, rotting with decay.

I wandered into the shell of a home,

haunted only by vague memories.

 

 

 

The house in which my mother shot herself.

There were no signs of angry ghosts,

no faint sounds of sullen mouths,

only a silent tranquility. 

I know I shouldn't revisit these memories, but with her birthday coming soon, I can't help it. Some intangible force, perhaps the ashes of my grandmother that were scattered across the empty fields, or the quiet grave of my mother, beckon me.

I arrived soon after, beside her grave...

unprepared, and unannounced,

I hadn't planned on coming here the moment I left the house.

 

My hands were empty,

I had nothing to give,

but a few whispered words,

a promise that I'd never leave my children,

that I'd never give up as she had...

and so I left her,

I left her only with my tears.

At odd times throughout the last five years I've been called back to take that journey and remember. I'm forced to reflect, to accept, to transform, and most importantly to continue living...fully, a life that is gone to her, but still vital and real to me.

I'm not afraid anymore. I am no longer weak.

This was goodbye in more ways than one. It's been five years...it's time to let go. Forgive, try to forget, and move on.