since Samhain i hadn't heard any spirits at all. i feel so alone so often.
keep your eyes open she said, serious, my mom's echo. maybe he? i couldn't figure out who, different energy, large, solid, sure, very old, somehow proud of me and interested to see me do well.
had started out wondering if i should just go straight down my mom's path after all. ask for a child, throw myself into it. to pass on everything. but that's what i've been trying to heal instead, to choose differently. hoping by listening more, practicing more, loving more, being more open, staying open, feeling more, that things can be different, better, good, beautiful even. joyful. together. woven together.
they let me yell at them. for leaving, for being bad at loving me, for making me learn the hard and slow ways, for making themselves sick and then leaving me alone. all four of them.
i understand i have learned so much with them gone.
i understand this time i have learned so much in 2+ months. pain focuses me. horrible as it is.
i understand i am practicing. every day. with someone(s) new.
i am so grateful to do the job i do. it allows and forces me (i chose it/keep choosing it to force me) to practice.
i begged for some hope. to have it not be for nothing. and of course it's never wasted. practicing love. i still want reassurance, hope, a vision, a dream, to keep my sails full.
i tried to reconcile if he chooses to throw me away, like the fool, to be a widow, except to be like my mom, losing her person because of his choice mostly, and how i could do it better. hence the thought of children, or fostering. and yet. that path is very likely ugly without dedicated help. without a teammate.
the problem now is not knowing, what he'll choose.
even knowing i'd have to keep practicing every day either way, to not loose hope or focus or perseverance, for life, and that it will still end anyway, regardless, but not by choice, even if all ended up going in a direction i'd prefer.
my grandfather's mistakes and love and being partly right- they haven't made fools of me. but so far, they've been fools.
bozena's mistakes and teaching me how actual love feels. thank heaven for her understanding and persistence and not giving up on me, not entirely.
my mom's horrid beliefs, but such love. teaching me to laugh and question.
my grandmother's insistence on shame, and love, and that discipline didn't have to mean not-love.
is it that i have to let go and let things be, to 'we'll see' my way through this?
it is so hard letting go of knowing of shaping of even trying to paint.
it felt good to be talked to.
practice.
keep your eyes open.
we love you. love you. love.
