i can't always blame hormones.
i think i'm just a flakey mess sometimes.
fighting the urge to weep as i walked, i realized
that it's got to be more than hormones.
i'm just wacked.
waking up from a dream, i was so darn groggy.
the dream hit some stuff i didn't want to hit,
so i tried to ignore it.
the groggy fog wouldn't lift, so as i walked, i figured
maybe i ought to look at the dream.
it was about a little boy i knew way back when.
i called him 'spence.'
he was one of the 'handicapped' kids i worked with.
a tiny little ball of a mixture of a baby and a kid who
couldn't move. but my gosh, he could smile. i used to
feed him and just love him a bit.
he had one of the most beautiful smiles in the world.
combined with his little odd body, it really stood out.
i dreamed of him as i knew him. in the dream i wanted to
take him home with me. but i knew he'd grow up and i
wasn't sure if i'd know how to take care of him.
as i walked i thought about the thirty-plus years
it's been since i've seen him.
he's not some cute little ball of a kid anymore.
and i thought of all those kids i used to hang out with.
they aren't kids anymore.
and this whole lifetime ago kinda rolled it's way thru me.
people i hadn't thought about in forever were there in my mind,
clear as day.
i thought about how i bumbled on in there and stayed. how i either
worked there or visited there for years.
when i realized that THEY had moved and it wasn't that i had stopped
going, i felt a huge sense of relief.
i had been feeling bad that i just stopped going.
but then realized that if they were all still in that same facility,
i'm pretty darn sure that i'd still be popping up there here and there.
but they closed that place down. and the kids got shipped to another
place...and my life changed...and our ways parted.
and they're probably still in that facility they moved to thirty years ago.
they're still there.
in their wheelchairs or beds that they can't get out of.
i got so full of this as i walked, i wanted to just weep.
the tears just came to my eyes.
and i thought of my own life.
and i got filled with indignation at myself.
how dare i be ungrateful.
i thought of my worst moments in my life...
my worst moments were STILL really good moments.
if i was falling apart and needed to go cry, i could walk to
the woods and cry. i could get in my car and drive away.
i could choose if i wanted to get out of bed or not.
even my worst times were filled with so many many gifts that
i just never even looked at.
the ol' 'there but for the grace of god go i' filled me.
i just wanted to weep for it all.
at this point i had come back by my elderly neighbor's
and stopped to say hello.
i didn't tell her any of this, and we were just chatting.
she sat there with that beautiful wrinkled face and those
eyes that get clearer and clearer and she told me how sorry
she felt for those who struggled. she felt sorry for the elderly
who were worried about their checks. she felt sorry for those
who had real problems they were falling apart over.
i looked at her and thought how amazing she is.
she knows what she's got and she's appreciating it.
and she had no clue how perfectly timed it was.
i have more in my worst moments that so many many many people.
and that's no little thing to ignore.