Something I think about all the times…May his will be done.

Many thoughts races through my mind, but one of these, is that God, my father, my creator merges the paths.

Father if it is your will, please allow my child to meet his paternal grandfather and grandmother, it if it is your will, allow their paths to cross; it has never been my intention for it to be this way.

Father, you know my heart better than I know myself, therefore, my heart has always yearned for my child to have the family dynamic I never had.

If it is your will father, if it’s for the greater good, make this happen…PLEASE! I want for my child to know and enjoy all that I’ve never had. I’ve googled, made phone calls in hopes to connect him to his grandfather to no avail.

If it is your will make this happen. I surrender my all to you, because after all, you are almighty and my impossible is possible to you. May your will be done father.

How hopeless…

Many challenges come from raising a child alone, but the hardest one at the present time is not the lack of financial help, being faced with making decision all alone, etc, but the deep, empty loneliness.

The loneliness that brings a deep sadness, a loneliness you feel though your bones, deep in your core. And If you come from a family that is not close/united unless it’s for a funeral, holidays are something you’ll dread.

A loneliness that might drive you into the wrong arms, make you settle for less because it’s better than being alone, feeling alone and defenseless. A loneliness that that reminds you daily that you have no one.

Yes, in parts you’re not alone, because you have the companionship of another human being; your child, however, he/she is not someone you can confide in, be a shoulder to lean on, share your sadness with, etc. Your child relies on your strength weather it’s lacking or not.

The loneliness one experiences as a single parent is beyond comprehension. It limits ones ability to make new friends (if you’ve relocated), date etc. Single Parenting can be like a social class and you might find that other single mother’s find nothing in common with you and politely stop contact because your the “third world country type” on the social class ladder.

Dating is nearly impossible. Babysitters can be costly due to the lack of having someone willing to watch your child for a date night. Also, will a man be understanding of the limitations being a single parent entails? Will he embrace your child?

And when you’re feeling broken, there’s no room to breathe, no personal space, no escape, you have to be present whether you want to or not. Push, shove, repeat, fake a smile, put on a mask daily, with no glimpse of escape, with 16 or 18 years looking so far away, that it’s not tangible.

Yearning for flexibility, a hint of freedom makes one feel like a monster. You feel guilty for wanting to feel “normal” again and you fear the thought of ever having children again even you’d love a big family, because of the fear of being left to raise a child alone; mothers can’t escapen or deny their responsibilities as easily.

I’m numb by this loneliness, no one to openly talk to without fear, no ear to listen, no shoulder to lean on, no arm to be your strength when yours falter.

We all have a biju…

I recall after my mother passed, I was put in a boarding school. There was a dog who remained chained in the backyard of that school, who’s only shelter was a piece of sheet metal covering him form the elements.

Bijou was a mutt; no one knew his breed, even the principal did not know. As an animal lover, I slowly began to talk to him from afar to gain his trust. In times when I was locked out in a place out in the backyard from rebelling against my bullies, he was my only companion.

Slowly but surely, Biju came to trust me and I no longer feared the wild beast nor he me….we became friends, almost as if he felt my pain and desolation. I’d bathe him against the rules without fear of punishment, I’d feed him my food which I’d hide in my pockets. Biju was my only friend, one who listened without judgement, one who listened to understand. Biju was black and white, with sweet kind eyes.

That dog became my enthusiasm to wake up each day, because who else would feed him some good food aside of crummy leftovers and give him his weekly bath and clean his area daily? We gain each other’s trust so much so that aside of one of the boarding school worker’s who’d known him since a puppy I believe, I was the only person who could get near him without fear.

It got to a point that whenever the principal would leave the Capitol (City), I’d let Biju out of his leash; a great risk. One time I recall I was helping the lady who did laundry, I’d help her in exchange for my basic needs; toiletries, etc, I left Biju off his leash.

As I was heading towards the area where the lady who did laundry hung up clothes, I heard a growl followed by barking. Later I learned that I had unknowingly stepped on one of the boys (I attended a unisex boarding school) who attempted to hit me, but Biju did not allow him; he defended me when I was defenseless and unaware of needing protection.

I our lives, we all have a Biju, who senses our pain and loneliness and says “that’s my human,” we all have a Biju who looks out for us even when we don’t know it. In our times of loneliness, sadness, loss, we have a Biju whether it’d be in animal or human form, we have a Biju unbeknownst to us.

Who will remember me? Who will say kind words about me?…

I recently had a conversation with a much older friend, about what truly define us, what we would be remembered by; it’s not by our zip code, nor socioeconomic status, etc, but the impact we’ve made on others.

This made me think at the present moment in time. I am not perfect nor has been my choices. I have a young child who is bias by the love he has for me, in his eyes I’m perfect despite my imperfections. But…

Whom will I be remembered by when I draw my last breath and leave this earth? Aside of my child? Who has seen my soul and has embraced my perfect imperfections and can say good things about me?

In who’s memory will I forever live like my mother lives in mine? Who else will be my advocate when my voice is forever silenced?

Life is a funny thing, isn’t it? We go each day overwhelmed by the day to day struggles, the mundane things without much thought of the imprints we leave behind, without concern of how our existence has affected others.

Who will say kind words about me aside of him? Who will paint a picture of my true essence erasing the doubts and negativity of others? Allowing them to get to know the true me after I’ve left this earth…who else will? Fortunate are those who have at least one person who’s voice can reverberate throughout the ages in unconditional love for them and fight to honor their memory.

Sweetest words I’ve ever heard…words of a child…

You’re the best mother I could ask for. If I went to heaven, I’d want you to be my mother again, even if you came in a different body.

If I went to heaven and I was an animal, I’d ask God to put you in the same enclosure as me.

If I went to heaven, I’d find you in every lifetime….I’d follow you in every lifetime.

I love your lies…

You tell me that our time apart have made you realize my worth, that I’m not alone anymore, because I have you now. You tell me that you appreciate all that I gave you; you tell me that you see me now.

You tell me all the things I want to hear, things I hoped you said before; that you’re ready, that you want the same things I do, but deep inside I feel different, because one moment I’m filled with hopes of us and the next all comes crashing down.

You’re settle actions push me away and drive me to want to be in another men’s arms; to seek elsewhere what I want in you, yet can’t find. Why do I hold on? Why do I allow myself into this game of Russian roulette?

I can’t bare the pain and disappointment. I feel lost and confused. Your words breathe false hopes into my soul, they keep me hoping, seeking…I find myself empty each time and trapped by your lies. Your “I love you’s” have grown to have no meaning, no essence.

Part of me love and want to believe all that I know are lies, so I hold on. But I’m tired, I’m tired of feeling alone when I’m wit you. I want to walk away more than I want to stay; my soul can’t bare another round of disappointment, of heartache even though I love your lies.

Seeking love in empty places

I find myself yearning for what seems to be impossible. Searching with no answers, I seek and want to give what others walk away from; love in empty places.

I’m tired of games, having to feel unappreciated, not valued, unseen. Pouring into cups filled with holes. I’m tired of feeling that I have to protect my heart, not having the love I give be reciprocated.

I’m tired of looking for love in empty places, places that are cold, selfish, insecure. Places that only want to take and give nothing in return, places that leave you feeling empty, alone and filled with pain.

Why must love be so difficult, confusing and painful? My must it leave you yearning rather than fulfilled? Why must it push you into an abyss of sorrows? I’m tired of finding love in empty places.