Things Still Unsaid
Friday, November 17, 2006
My mother went into the hospital three years ago this month. My fingers have sputtered and gasped out lines and sentences like clouds of exhaust, only to disappear into the either with a tap of the backspace button. I stop and start and still get nowhere.
I've been doing so much better this year. Risen up from the dregs of grief, if not like a Phoenix, at least a Robin. My strength is the tentative unfurling of newborn wings and I am at once both afraid and eager to test their strength by spilling out my secrets for you here. Yet the story of her illness is something I find beyond my fragile dexterity. It sits upon my breast like a hidden cancer. Waiting to burn it's way through my innards with the sharpness of knives and cleaving through my skull with the swift down stroke of an axe.
But I'm not ready.
The words sit unspoken on my screen and I wonder when I will give them voice. I want them to dart through my veins like so many white blood cells, cleaning out my guilt with their swift travel, easily conquering the germs of pain that ride my body like an unwanted guest. I wish for the skills of a surgeon to self extract them, expelling them upon a medium for examination and dissection, but I am still interning.
Some ghosts extract a toll before you can exorcise them.
link | posted by Kara at 11/17/2006 12:27:00 PM
8 Comments:
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smizzo had this to say:
Aw, I'm so sorry. It's a tough with the holidays, too. :(
- 1:49 PM, November 17, 2006
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Carrie had this to say:
Ah man, you are ripping out my heart.
Beautiful piece though.
*hugs*
- 3:05 PM, November 17, 2006
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had this to say:
I don't know how metaphorical the typing and backspace parts are, but you might consider pen and paper, like a notebook. In my case when it's paper, the word flow might still be stuttering and uneven but the editing (and deleting) almost completely disappears. The advantage is you get *something* out, and down, and committed. Later you can post, or rewrite, or throw it all away.
And no one but you has to see a word of it before you're ready to show.
Sometimes change provides a jump-start.
- 6:35 PM, November 17, 2006
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had this to say:
And I'm typing and using backspace and trying to figure out how to tell you I'm so sorry you've lost your mom and that this time of year is hard for you. If you drew strength from her before, do it now too, in her memory and in her honor.
- 9:44 PM, November 17, 2006
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had this to say:
I hope one day you'll find the words, if only to free yourself of the pressure. Thinking of you.
- 9:59 AM, November 20, 2006
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had this to say:
The trick is not to get the feelings out; the trick is to live peacefully with them. Then you can let them go when you are ready.
Or something. It's tough. I'll be thinking of you (but not in a creepy way)
- 2:30 PM, November 20, 2006
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Michael had this to say:
You definitely have a way with words...
- 3:59 PM, November 20, 2006
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had this to say:
I like Robins.... much rather be a Robin than a Pheonix. You're doing OK.
- 11:03 PM, November 20, 2006
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