Brownstonelit's Blog

2/16/12

The girls have been talking of late. Wednesday night I heard a song about a girl named Jessica and the following morning I saw two tires- half in and half out while in my travels to work. This morning while I was searching for this file- I ran past a jpg in my files for the suggested Google Satellite link for Roxanne’s remains.

Perhaps it is the holiday that has them stirring- one in the dirt and one in the water. Maybe they have a better take on the human heart and the fashion in which we tend to lie to ourselves about matters of the heart. How we try to convince ourselves we are in love with those we are bound to…how obligation can never take the place of passion and yet, passion is a fickle mistress who is spent quickly and carelessly and is a poor substitute for comfort in our old age when we are want to share a history.

There is seldom a day that both Jessica and Roxanne do not enter my thoughts and there is never a day when Charley does not. He and I are forever and when I feel the sedimentary world that we live in begin to settle in my bones, I reach for him to remind me that I am more of air than dirt…much to his credit, my parents and to R.

Today I woke, warm in both bed and spirit and looked upon a shoreline that twinkled behind clouds with lights of others lives… a front porch light here, a dock light there and I knew inside that I was the miracle. One would think that the last few years have reflected the whole of this experience, but not so. I have traveled from very far to get here. From grief and confusion about my place in the world, my life, my marriage and in my destiny and awoken almost three years later to the potential and the possibilities of my divine purpose.

Jessica and Roxanne are part of this miracle and I am indebted to them both for their part in my evolution; that is why I cannot seem to let them simply wander the ethos alone. I worry that they will not find their way home- that they carry with them the taint of their defaults here on earth and that they measure their worth by the cowards they bedded. You need not carry such a burden any longer my dears. The dogs that betrayed your naiveté will be drug through the streets of Valdosta by their ego’s and their legacies and they will be brought to bear the weight of their indiscretions and their indignities apart from you. I cannot reconcile for you the actions of your earthly past- those are for you to sort and sanction. But I can applaud your innocence and your right to redirect. You are the girls that motherhood somehow forgot…the wayward that begged to be detoured and the shamed that desired to be forgiven. You have that all now and more. Help me bring the “4 in flannel” to heel. Help those who would have information to be bold in their departures and help heal the wounds. Find your way to Charley, to Miss M and to those who will light your path and help through the conduit of R, help me to help you.

The tires, the trees, the water…the way.

I will be waiting on the other side- ready to serve.

I’m here.

This entry was posted on February 16, 2012 at 3:22 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.