THE VOICES IN MY HEAD

The world was a quieter place back then. Each mess was mine. I would run away to fill the empty spaces with unhealthy things avoiding my own clutter and silence. But then the voices came.

First the big one. That one really caught my attention. I couldn’t focus on anything else. That voice was all I wanted to hear. So I decided to give myself over to it. I was obsessed with it at first but eventually it started to say things I didn’t want to hear and was slightly less desirable. Now, that it was in my head, though, it would stay. The voice and I found peace with each other and continue to do so.

Soon there came a smaller voice. It was a beautiful, demanding voice that interrupted my sleep for no obvious reason. Because it did not allow me to sleep I would sit for hours in the night playing solitaire on the computer. That seemed to quiet the voice.

The two voices seemed hard to please all the time so I decided not to allow any more voices into my head. I realize now that it was just hard to please myself all the time while tending to the voices. Without my permission the third little voice snuck up on me. It was little like the other one but had different things to say. It actually demanded more time than the other two but it did it in a way that made me want to devote all of my time to it. It was a sweet voice that I would hear sometimes coming from the far reaches when I was doing something else.

Over time I decided to allow three more voices to come in. They needed me so I made room in my head for them. The funny thing is that the more voices there were the happier all of the voices seemed.

Eventually two of them didn’t need me any more and left. Luckily, Christmas and Summer time is always a chance to welcome them back for a short time. When they visit they are loud and exhausting! But it is worth it to allow them to occupy a cramped space once in a while. I miss them when they leave again.

Now there are just five of us. Me and the four voices in my head. And one of them, only on weekends and during the summers. I love my voices. They need a lot of care and love. But they are happy to return it.

The world was a quieter place back then… but lonelier. I would never give up the voices in my head. I see a lot of people who will not allow little voices to interrupt their busy lives but they do not know what they are missing out on. Am I crazy? Probably.

WORST MOM EVER

It was a great honor to hear my daughter say, “Mommy, you are the best mommy in the world.”

I ignored the voice that said, “HAH! No you are not and you know it!”

I ignored that voice because SHE thinks so! Of course she won’t forever but she does now and that is all that matters.

And in a few years I am certain that I will hear, “YOU ARE THE WORST MOM EVER!” And it will be then that I am reassured, once again, that I really AM the best mommy in the world.

GOOD FRIDAY

It was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour, while the sun’s light failed, and the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, “Father, into thy hands I commit my spirit!” And having said this he breathed his last.


Luke 23:44-46

The Revised Standard Version

Thank you Lord - you have saved your people, we are safe because of what you did!

BLEW THE HOUSE DOWN

She settled in to hear daddy tell a bed time story. It was the Three Little Pigs and The Big Bad Wolf. She was completely silent as he told the story she had heard so many times before in her three short years. She could almost recite it right along with him. But then-

BRAAWWWWPPP!

Then she couldn’t stop giggling. After several minutes she calmed down enough to say, “Daddy! You blew the house down with your butt!!!!”

Daddy was laughing so hard that by the time he could talk he forgot to remind her that she wasn’t supposed to use the word “butt.”

OH NO! I CAUGHT YOU AGAIN!

She has always been in some sort of trouble. Even now as my heart soars to see her at the end of the school day, her classroom behavior plagues me with daily notes from the teacher.

When did it start? I am not really sure. Maybe, on that fateful day when she was 18 months old and I saw a marked change in the, previously PERFECT, behavior of my small child. I asked her, “Is my little angel turning into my little monster?” With a happily mischievous look she took a deep breath and growled. “RAWRRRRR!!!”

I guess I should have known then that I was in for it. As the days passed, I found murals, carefully drawn in sharpie, on the walls of our rental. Dirt became her favorite snack. If that wasn’t available grass or leaves were a favored alternative. Any tool or item that could alter any other item was a newfound toy. A fork to etch made up words into the oak dresser her Great-grandfather had built for her. Crayons have marked on the doorjambs and walls labeling everything as hers. Stickers placed on every conceivable surface. Red-orange lip-gloss painted into the fabric of our old beige couch. All these actions are signs of careful execution and total lack of exercise of impulse control.

So, now at the ripe old age of eight, should I be surprised by what I see when I walk around the corner? My heart sinks as I say, “Oh no! I caught you again.”

MY DAY AS SUPERMAN

I was maybe 4. Superman was probably the most popular superhero and he could fly. Which was enough to make me love him. What kid doesn’t dream of flying? Well, little did I know but by the end of the day he would no longer be my favorite superhero.

My sister was just a baby and so my mother was preoccupied with her and she was more of a plaything than a playmate. Which was probably why I was kicked outside to play.

The tree in our front yard was easy to climb and at the age of 4 I was able to climb REALLY high- about 5 feet. I don’t know if I set out climbing the tree with a certain plan or if the idea came to me once I was up there but I did have a brilliant idea. My mind was full of 4-year-old imagination and it never occurred to me that my fantasies might not be possible in reality. After all to a child, fantasies are reality.

I got completely into character as I stretched out my arms in true superman fashion. I crouched and visualized my flight and the feeling of soaring. I leapt up and out as hard as I could and yelled, “SUPERMRPH!”

Ow, ow, ow, ow. Flying isn’t supposed to hurt! As I rolled over I realized that no spankin’ I ever had hurt so much. You know…I bet Spiderman never falls out of the sky…

And it has been Spiderman ever since.

Aunt Sandy’s Kitchen

As she smokes and talks I breathe deep and I let my mind drift back.

I am about 7 sitting in Aunt Sandy’s kitchen. The sunlight shines bright into window and filters through the ribbon of smoke drifting up from the ashtray on the table. It is early fall so the heat has mostly gone and we can cook again for fun. I stare at the cigarette smoke as it gracefully changes shape and curls. I let my breath out a little faster and watch it waft away as a new column instantly fills the empty space. I breathe it in having no idea what it is doing to my lungs. I just know I like it. It smells good.

Then the aroma is replaced by something different. My trance is broken by the popping sound coming from the frying pan. Mmmm. Fried food. We are making egg rolls and to me it seems adventurous. I have no idea where my sister is so I have Aunt Sandy all to myself. I stand up and walk over to the counter and look at the wraps thinking how odd it was that THAT is what you make egg rolls from.

A year or so later my aunt and uncle move away and divorce. He is never very happy after that. His eyes always so sad. And I never get to see Aunt Sandy again.

I realize where I am as I pull back and look at the smoke. As she realizes it has drifted into my face she waves her hand through it, “I am sorry. I didn’t realize it was coming your way.”

“It is ok,” I tell her. “It makes me remember.”

I get up and move anyway.

Looking Forward

This is the gray time of year around here. The time when we might get hit with a few more little snow storms but are just as likely to get hit with thunder and lightning. As I stare out at the gray it is hard to imagine that soon the color will be emerging from it's sleep. Even as I think about it I can start to feel the warmth on my arms and think of myself squinting against the, so far nonexistent, sun. I remember the burn that I will feel as I sit too long in the suns rays and that if we don't get the air conditioner soon it will be another summer of waiting out the heat in the basement. I am thankful for each season because each season has a purpose. I am also thankful that just as each season starts to seem a little too long it slowly comes to an end making room for the next display that our region has to offer. Soon there will be little colorless lumps on the bare branches. Just as they become noticeable they will pop with colors of green and pink and white. I am watching and waiting because it is coming soon, and I can hardly wait.

The Day I Realized There Was No Santa

We were in her car just the two of us. I had to ask. She would know. And she never lied. It was really a big deal with her. I wasn’t sure I wanted to ask or if I really even wanted to know. The day was coming soon though and everyone at school was talking about it. As I tried to come up with the right words to ask, I had an idea.
“Adam says that Santa isn’t real.”
“Oh. Really?”
She didn’t say anything else for a long time.
I knew something was weird. This is what she did when she didn’t want to tell me something but would if I pushed it enough. She was waiting for me.
“Auntie, is Santa real?”
“What do you think, hon? Do you think Santa is real?” she said.
“I think Santa’s not real,” I said.
She waited again.
“Ok. Well, then I guess you if you are old to figure it then I will tell you. Santa isn-“
It was too much! I just wasn’t ready! What did I even open my mouth?
“YES HE IS!”
Again, silence.
“OK, sweetie. You are right. Santa is real.”
It may not have been first time I realized there was no Santa but it definitely finalized it for me.
I should have kept my big mouth shut!