I am remembering too much lately.
Pretty sure.
There is an occasional superimposition of memory. My memories drape over the events of the day, suffusing those events with shadows of the past. And I am at once transported and stuck.
We went to a small amusement park today. The girls climbed onto a ride that swooped and spun. Kallan had stopped to check with me first, “Is it too spinny? I don’t like the ones that make my stomach go all sick.”
And I reassured her, “No, it’s a little kid ride. It’s not too bad. You’ll be fine.”
She ran off happily with her sister.
They climbed in together. The ride started up. Both girls waved happily as they went around.
I waved happily back.
Twice.
The third time around? Only Maj waved. Kallan’s eyes were shut and her head was tucked down into her chest.
I was wrong.
The girls swooped past us perhaps a dozen more times before the ride ended.
Every time? My eyes sought out Kallan, followed her, waited, and then sought again.
There was no panic on her unseeing face, just an emptiness, a shutting down.
An enduring.
And that? Made my eyes well with tears and my heart ache.
That enduring.
And when the ride was over? She came to me.
She came to me.
To look sadly up into my face, “I don’t want to do any more big rides. My stomach feels dizzy.”
I slid my sunglasses down from the top of my head to hide my tears, “Sorry, baby. Sorry about that.”
She was sad and quiet for a few minutes, but then she recovered and went about her day.
It was not a big deal. The day went on. A lovely day.
But for a moment? I was transported.
And then got stuck.
In memories.
Of trust.
And enduring.
And shutting down.
And enduring.
And in possibly related news?
My head? Is fucking killing me.
It’s me, the bossy one. Oh, the enduring, the memories of just getting through it. You just made me cry. Love you!
Today?
I am a little teary as well.
Much love.
I hate it when my “memories” come back to the surface. Know exactly how you feel.
Why do your memories have quotation marks around them?
Mine do not.
Sorry you head hurts and sorry you are feeling lost in transportation but happy that you were there for Kallan when she was feeling all spinny. She’ll remember that one day.
Nah.
For Kallan?
This was not a moment.
Only for me.
Yes, it might have been a deeper moment for you, but, Kallan will remember moments like this and many others that are filled with happiness, because of you.
Awwww . . . that is lovely to imagine.
Thank you.
*hugs*
Ack with the hugs!
ACK!
Oh, that’s so hard! But it’s not your fault Kallan got sick. Your endurance? Is astonishing. And inspiring.
Hugs!
Not my fault she was dizzy.
And? I didn’t feel guilty.
That wasn’t what hurt.
We endure because we promised no matter what.
Sigh.
Endurance. Perseverance. Determination. You have all of those in spades, my dear. I know these things.
((hugs))
People!
STOP ((HUGGING)) ME!
Love you.
NO HUGS?? In addition to coupons, I also love hugs. :(
Hmmmmph.
I won’t hug you, I promise. But I just wanted to let you know I was thinking of you. You are a strong woman! You rock!
Thank you.
And love to you.
From a distance.
I’m truly tempted to ::hug:: you, just to be contrary….but I wouldn’t do such a thing….
I think I understand your moment.
If you really understand my moment?
Then I am sorry.
no hugs, even if I were there, I wouldn’t hug you…
and also, I like to believe that every time these shadows of the past fall into today, it’s just me letting go a little more.
I like to believe that.
The shadows over my life?
Mostly ethereal and inconsequential.
I am surprised when they suddenly take shape and stand before me.
Today, I am sorry (not for you but with you) and today I feel a little teary too. And today, I realize that even when my toddler turns into a child and then a preteen and eventually an adult…that when he hurts I will hurt too.
Well maybe with you? I am just sad.and when I’m sad, everything emotional makes me feel things really clearly. Today, I am sad that you had to endure anything that you had to endure. Today, I’m not able to clearly say what I’m trying to say.
Motherhood?
It is a bitch sometimes.
Oh, and tell Kallan that I do not like the spinny ones either. When I was 9, I rode the swings (you know, the ones that lift you up and spin you in a constant circle) and I was sick for well over 12 hours. I can’t do dizzy. I know how she felt, and that sucks!
Spinny and out of control?
Not my favorite ride, either.
I am not going to offer to hug you because I’m sweaty. My head hurts too. I hate those moments when we see our kids enduring something they don’t to. I hate the moments when the memories come back too. I try very hard to quiet them. Most of the time it works. Most of all though? I want my kids to have very few memories that require any sort of endurance.
This blog? And this writing I am doing?
Has given the normally quieted memories a voice.
A gift . . . and also a problem.
For some reason, this post? Is flooding me with my own memories. And not necessarily good ones. sigh. I’m not a cry-er, but tonight, hmph.
Glad to connect with you.
But sorry your memories are sad.
Also.
I know it’s not what I’m meant to take away from this post, but I’m touched that sassy, bold Kallan gets spinny on rides. Lots of layers, these young humans we get to care for.
I’m always touched by your mothering, above, beyond and through your own memories and pain.
Lots of layers.
Covering us all.
And also?
Whatever you took from this post?
Is what was meant to be.
So there.
As per usual? You’re right.
You are right!! I had to double check to make sure it wasn’t Maj that was feeling less than well. Kallan is all sorts of spunk, its kinda hard to imagine her not enjoying the spinny ones. But I completely understand it!
Kallan is not Wonder-Woman.
As much as she would have you believe that to be the case.
FWIW, I’ve never (to this day) been able to ride any of those things. We called them all “Twirl & Hurls”. Blecchh.
I call those times of recollection “memory bubbles”. They come unbidden and bubble up to the surface then POP! I try to examine the contents and then release them into the Great Beyond. Not really sure where that is but at least it’s somewhere else. Childhood bubbles pack a wallop when they show up. I try to remember that I’m not that powerless child anymore. And I am FREE. Just my personal 2 cents…
Oh, I am free.
But this blog and this writing?
Has forced me to pluck some of those bubbles out the air and examine them more closely.
And to go back.
There is something about seeing a familiar emotion in the face of your child that makes old pain resurface and hurt exponentially.
When I know that I’ve hurt Katie’s feelings, even in some trivial way, when I see the pain in her eyes, it feels as though I’m seeing myself.
And in those moments, I hold my pain close, grateful for it, as it enables me to empathize with Katie. Though her hurts are different, she feels them nonetheless. That pain that I carry around makes me gentler with her and more protective.
I know that those painful memories make me a better mother. I can’t imagine that I would be as tender and compassionate had I not experienced them.
Kisses,
Me
I think it’s interesting that my post today?
Is inspiring reactions that I did not anticipate.
And kisses?
Snort.
My heart hurts for you- partially because I know how painful it is to watch your child struggling, and partially because of what you’ve shared of your own struggle.
Watching your child enduring can be hard as hell, but providing them the unconditional love and support, that Kallan KNOWS she can rely on, gives her the strength to get through the enduring moments in life that are unavoidable.
As much as we wish our children a lifetime of happy-go-lucky moments, life doesn’t work that way. And Kallan will need this life skill to survive. And will appreciate knowing that when she does get through the other end, alive and kicking, you’re going to be there with all of the love and comfort she needs.
Cheers to you and your beautiful heart.
Awww . . . Thanks, you.
I hate those days when I remember too much, when the rose colored glasses turn clear again. I hate it even more when I see it reflected in the eyes of my children.
Good thoughts to you. Only good thoughts.
Thank you for the good thoughts.
They are much appreciated.
Ohhh I bury bury bury all my memories and evade them fast if the ever try to sneak out to the surface.
I attempt to live a shallow life with buried emotions to keep me balanced.
I wonder how that is working out?
OK, you left a bunch of comments on a bunch of posts this evening, and I do not have the time to answer them all this evening.
But this one?
I am laughing so hard . . . tears running down my face and giggles choking my ability to offer explanations to Mark.
Who is concerned.
Being a parent is so hard…especially when you see things that transport you back, back to when you were young and doing exactly as they are doing. We try so hard to protect them and keep them from ever having to “endure” what we did.
I’m sorry something that seems so innocuous led to heartache for you.
Sigh.
Sigh.
Wow, so much power in so few and tiny words. It is amazing that those same tiny nuances in our children have so much power and affect on our emotions.
You are all snarkless!
as a kid (and even as an adult) I would watch parents not notice pain or hurt or fear or even “endurance” on their children’s faces. they just insist that the ride was fun or whatever. they don’t REMEMBER being that age. They don’t REMEMBER having those feelings. I watch those feelings in Eddie and it brings me back in a WHOOSH to times when I had those feelings and nobody noticed. And I feel it all over again. And I never want Eddie to feel those ways. But then I wonder if that is part of life. do those feelings shape us as well as all the love shapes us? but feeling all those things all over again? Makes me all swoopy and huggy and nurturey to Eddie. Right now he hugs back. someday? He will whine.
Cherish the hugs from your children.
They do become rarer.
And whinier.
Sigh.
Okay, once again I tried to comment from my phone and it didn’t work. It’s pissing me off. You know what the error message says? “Your comment could not be processed. Maybe it was too short?” Makes me want to throw the phone across the room every time. Now I’m wondering if it was some kind of secret message having something to do with the semi-shorter-than usual post. Hold up, let me get my secret decoder pin. BRB.
So, since trust is the foundation of any relationship, when I get the feeling that my kids might not fully and completely trust me, either presently or in reference to the future, it feels like someone is ripping my heart out. I hope I don’t ever have to see that look, but I know I will eventually, which hurts to anticipate.
Oh and as per your request I am not hugging you. Wanna make out?
Hey Roxane, I had this same problem from my iPhone. I’ve never had anybody tell me what I wrote was too short!! LOL! Kris’ people are working on it…
Alright, here’s the thing.
We cannot figure out the fucking problem.
The only thing tech guy can think? Is that one of my plug-ins is fucking with the iPhone compatibility. Who knows which one.
You people may be screwed.
Why do you people need to comment from your iPhones?
Take some time to think about what you want to say. Ponder for a while.
And then sit down at an actual desk (with an actual computer) and share your wisdom.
In related news?
My blog hates iPhones at the moment.
my droid does that same damn thing!
I solved this Error Message problem by going to the bottom of the post and switching OFF Mobile setting, then allowing the blog to refresh itself to show the regular PC view. I use Echofon on my iPhone & iPad. Without switching away from Mobile view I can read only.
THANK YOU!
THANK YOU!
I hope you don’t think me strange when I say that reading this post actually made me happy in a way. It probably sucked for Kallan to have to endure that ride. However, in the grand scheme of things, enduring a short carnival ride is very little. As you said, she shortly went on with her day.
You’ve given your girls such a better, happier childhood than the one you had. Even though every moment isn’t sunshine and puppies they will never have to endure the things you did.
That’s something to celebrate and be very proud of.
Thank you!
There will be much harder things they will endure. And you’ll ache for it.
As we do.
As we are meant to do. We are meant to ache for their enduring, not be a reckless cause of it.
You ache, because you see.
And you remember.
I wish you had only the seeing, and not the remembering. But my wishes could fill an ocean liner and do very little.
And yet I keep on with the wishing.
Can’t help it.
Always, there is wishing.
Always.
Ugh. Yes, this is why I have to sit on my hands and force myself to be still if my kids are hurting and choose to be alone for that.
I’m so glad that what Kallan has to endure is such a small thing. As I am glad that my kids don’t feel their pain alone because they must, but because sometimes, that is their choice.
I continue to be struck at the difference between what I thought I said and what you guys heard me say.
But that’s OK.
Kallan was just fine.
Love to you.
I remember checking out. Not being there.
Sometimes I think I am observing my kids checking out.
My son today in the car. I’m all honing in on him with “what are you thinking about?” and he says “nothing” and I realize he’s not an open book anymore.
Weird to see your kids develop an inner life, isn’t it?
Fabulous, but strange.
love. is all.
Swoon.
Well, I don’t actually know what you said. One second I was reading along quite nicely, and then I saw something shiny outside the window, and then there was a cute girl walking on the sidewalk, and then something came on NPR that I wanted to listen to, and then the ice in my drink shifted with a pleasantly tinkly sort of sound, and by that point I just gave up trying to read and figured I’d just leave a comment anyway based upon what I figured you’d probably said somewhere back up in there, so:
I can’t believe your dog *ate* that thing! And then when Maj stomped off? And Kallan rolled her eyes at you in that swirly tidal pool of unspoken snark that she manages so well? And Mark! How did he even do that thing that he did that he did so well? That was just amazing!
My reading comprehension is total shit at the moment.
I do not deserve the love.
Happy sighs.
You get me.
You really get me.
And also? What love?
You are like a crazy person.