Every day I get the sense that I am rounding a corner. I can't see what it is really. I have these strange dreams and I remember the feelings in them, snippets of them in my day to day life. It feels like I'm riding a roller coaster. I hate roller coasters. I hate the slow ride up and the slow tip to that sinking feeling in my belly. I think some of my friends can feel it too. I like ellipses. I use ellipses often. It is an unfinished thought. Maybe it's a pause. It builds suspense. There is the possibility that it is all in my head... There it is. That mysterious ellipse. Maybe it's all in my head but there are days that I feel watched. It's as if my life is really a story. What would that look like?
Once upon a time, there was a girl who was not supposed to be. There was a sick woman who wanted a baby more than anything in the world. She had met her Colombian prince on a blind date. He didn't care that she couldn't have any babies. He would do what she wanted because in the end, he would do anything to make her happy. She tried to get pregnant even though her doctors didn't think it would be wise. Maybe there were babies before the girl. There were babies after her. She counts them as family that she didn't have but she wasn't supposed to be there so she could do anything that she wants when it comes to counting family. The girl lost her own babies too. She counted them as her babies that were not supposed to be.
The girl lost her mother. She died in a blaze of glory. She was raised by her father. Girls need their dads. Her Colombian King died when she was 26 years old. Her own prince from Brooklyn died. This girl who was not supposed to be ended up losing so many. She was thankful for the babies that stayed. There was a little boy and a little girl. They brought light into her world.
What is the girl who was not supposed to be to do with her life? What are the adventures that lay in store for her? I think the fear is that there are no adventures left. What really happens in this ellipse? I used to talk about it with my dear cousin, Jackie. I would tell her that I am my mother's miracle baby living a miracle life. I think of them often. My parents. I have their stories before me. I am their stories' keeper. I am a story keeper. And now, I have my late husband's story to tell. Each breath, each beat of my heart, each moment is my wonderful story. I won't need my children to tell it. I will tell it myself. Thank you for reading.
Post a Comment