Originally published in They Hang Like Paper Lanterns.

The drops weave together daily,
their fibrous web,
and bind me in this sticky love.
I trip upon my own heart strings.

They shoot me full of adrenaline, then entangle me, gag me, rob me
Leaving me to finish off what’s left of myself.
Heart racing, eyes bulging; wet, salty and gasping.
Wishing, perhaps, they’d completed their aim this time.
Please stop toying with me and end it.
(Then thinking that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.)

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Originally published on Loralee’s Looney Tunes

I visited my son’s grave today.

There was no special reason. No holiday or anniversary. No family or friends that live far away who wanted to pay their respects. I was just driving and saw the snow on the ground and wanted to check on my son, clean up his grave, and remove the decorations that I put up for Autumn.

Matthew is buried in a beautiful spot. We put him next to family, a cousin of Jonathan’s that was killed in a car crash with his grandmother when she was only 19. It makes me feel better that his cousin is close by. I will be buried near him, but not next to him because that space was occupied, which makes me very sad.

It used to make me angry.

The grave right next to my son is occupied by what they call a “Pauper grave”. Meaning, that the plot was donated and the family doesn’t have the resources for a headstone. There is a metal marker that has an index card with typing on it. The womans name has been obliterated. All I know is that death occurred in July of 1998 and that she was only 41 at the time of passing.

In the four years since my Little Bug has passed, my feelings about “Her” have changed. It’s still hard to know that this stranger gets a place that I yearn to have, but instead of being angry, I began to be curious about this neighbor of my son. Who was she? What was she like? Did she have any family?

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Originally Posted at Mom-O-Matic.

I’m going to try and talk about what’s going down with son because it’s kind of eating me up these days. When I write in this blog I do try to stick to just telling my own stories. That way I’m the only that can get mad when I realize that everyone knows my scene. But the lines between my story and his story are kind of blurry. When I look at my kids it’s like someone put the zoom lens on in my head. I really don’t see anything but their beautiful faces looking up at me. So worrying about son is overshadowing my view of everything. And I can feel it weighting me down into the depths of crappymotherhood. So I’m hoping I can get this off my chest and breathe a little easier, but do so in a way that respects his privacy. Here goes.

Son’s just been having a hard time of it this year. He’s been sporting these big, black shiners under his eyes all the time. He seemed run down and whiny often – but in that way that kids get when they’re sick. I admit we hoped that after his adenoid/tonsil surgery the relief from constant sinus infections would restore him. Bring back our bright and sunny guy. But my mommy gut knew that there was going to be something more going on. However, I told mommygut that she’s often been wrong since she started hanging around with myanxiety and to stuff it.

And at first he seemed to feel so much happier. He was sleeping better and eating more too. But those darn shiners just wouldn’t go away. And I hated them because they look like he hasn’t gotten enough care, or that he was sad. And then he started to say quite often, “I feel sad and I don’t know why.” (Mmm? What’s that sound? Oh that’s just my heart smashing to the floor – let me get a broom and clean that right up.)

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