“Turn the clock to zero, boss
The river’s wide, we’ll swim across…
Started up a brand new day.
It could happen to you – just like it happened to me
There’s simply no immunity – there’s no guarantee.
I say love’s such a force – if you find yourself in it,
And sometimes no reflection’s there…”
lyrics from Brand New Day by Sting
Well I’ll be damned. I cough up all kinds of ugly, shameful, depressing self pity and all I get is affirmation and support in return. Comments here, e-mails, facebook messages — and from all over the world. When I woke the next day after spewing forth that mess of a post, I expected judgement and anger and shock…and there was none. Instead there was understanding, kindness, gentle proddings and sound suggestions. All I can say is thank you, from the depths of me, humbled and comforted. Thank you.
It’s as if, now, I’ve been allowed to re-set it all and separate everything out into manageable portions. I’ve secured Jonah’s medications through Medicaid. I bought one of those big pillows with arms on it, so we could place it between Jonah and whomever braves the back seat with him and prevent injury until Andy and I can buy a harness like Andy has in his own car. I drove over to my mom’s and we spoke reasonably about what we should do, and how, and when. I spoke to Andy and we are calm with one another, cooperating, making moments of quiet and peace within every conversation.
Yesterday’s “Jonah’s report” included the irony of another child attacking Boo, who came away with but a few scratches. I asked if Jonah had “snapped” and fought back, and the answer was no. More proof that there is no rhyme or reason to our son. I suppose it is my path, this crazy brick road, and I shall follow it through forests of angry talking trees and witch-sent flying monkeys until I reach the emerald land of Oz.
Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.
Someday I will awaken to find it all a dream, to find I could have left the whole time had I really wanted to, had I clicked the ruby shoes together. Until then I will take things in little pieces, bite-sized problems to nibble, one at a time.
And meanwhile I have this wonderful job which came along at precisely the right moment – turn the clock to zero, boss – my work filled with writing, editing, proofreading, none of it feeling like work at all. I do my work on the couch with a laptop, turn the TV to the classical music station, take short breaks to water my garden flowers or walk in the backyard with Manzo-kitty and Jack-dog. Sometimes I take moments in silence to close my eyes, breathe in and out, day-dream, pray, meditate, allowing myself to be grateful…hopeful…to recover from each fall until I feel my wings’ re-growth and I can fly once again, gliding over everything.
And for the first time in my life, I work for a living doing something I truly love – something that, when I lay my head on the pillow at night, makes me smile in the knowledge: Today I have helped others. Today I have taken strangers’ problems and turned them into opportunities. I am doing good in the world.
I never thought I’d come to this much trouble or this much joy, let alone all mixed together, paint-colors running on a canvas into pools of artwork. It feels good to be able to stand it all, the crazy pain and soaring pleasure in turns, strengthened by support from so many…heightened by a renewed determination brought by every brand new day.
I’ll share photos today of random beautiful things, people and places:
This woman played beautifully, heart-wrenchingly, in New York City’s Central Park.
instructions for my son?
Stained glass in the windows of Christ our Light Church in Loudonville, where I used to work once upon a time
Jonah visits some chickens, smiling at them all
A nature art creation I made in the stones under the Blenheim covered bridge, which crumbled and fell a few years ago.
waterfall forest boy
the underwater shimmer of koi
another forest nature picture, with a rose and white stones
my boo and me
The Never Normal 