The Update of Hope – 1/12/13

My apologies for not getting on earlier. Everyone following and others have been so incredibly supportive of this site and my work that I feel guilty over a prolonged absence.

However, for the first time in many moons that absence is not related to horrifying events, rather the beginning of a renewed vigor for life and the culmination of some challenging work.

I am being tested at a new position in the hopes it will be come something long term – I’ve thrown myself into it beyond 100% in the attempt to do so. Happily, and with great satisfaction.

I’m finally paying child support, not as much as I would like to be giving to my kids, but everything that I can afford. Consistently and with the intention of finally becoming a consistent presence.

I talk to my children once a week, reliably, and without fail. I have 5 different alarms that go off and warm me so that if I collapse in exhaustion either the alarms, or calls from multiple people warning me, will get my ass up to be there to speak with my remarkable son and daughter. While the animosity is thick between my ex-wife and I, somewhere I’m finding the appreciation and respect for her that I should have. She’s been raising my children while I was unable to. It is my responsibility to earn my way back into the family I destroyed, not expect it handed back with a smile. I don’t think that way all the time, but as I build a better existence and confidence I find that it takes away the undercurrents that I let drag me farther from them.

I’m living in a stable location….more than 40 moves in 2-years….STABILITY would be a blessing in so many ways. It took me almost 3-weeks just to put my suitcase away because I was certain that something would go wrong…now I’m considering bringing more clothes that have somehow survived all the travel.

My squishy and delicious Mimi without who the world would have stopped so long ago. Forever and always will I be hers, and she mine.

Happiness.

I think I’m getting closer to happiness.

God damn if it didn’t take one hell of a journey to get here, and he (or she) shows that I gave up time and time again. They also know I’m terrified that the other shoe will drop at any second – usually I’m the one wearing it when it does.

I’m optimistically terrified of arriving at a new future, a start to something better, and becoming what I was intended to be.

My love to everyone who continues to support the blog. I will be trying to get more consistent again as everything balances out.

Happy 2017, merry-post “holiday insert” – and my wishes for kindness, satisfaction, joy, and contentment in the coming year.

Tonight the world is peaceful.

peaceful-night-2

-S

 

 

 

 

Melancholy for Anya

A minimal background here….the young girl in the photograph is my daughter. Because of both my actions leading up to the divorce and subsequent relapses, along with a “less then friendly” civility between the mother and myself – I have only seen her once in the last year and change. She’s about a year and a half to put it in perspective. 
Anya's Big Blue Eyes (2)

Some sing songs of longing,

Blazing with desire to find or be found.

A lonesome call to remove the isolation,

From the desperate state of silent night.

For others,

Absent are the sounds once felt.

Or missed because of poor choices.

To have loved and lost is a blessing,

To lose a love over choices given away,

Hurts the way that pain self-inflicted does.

Unswayed by pleas for mercy,

Nowhere to misdirect the blame.

I want to know my daughter,

But all I feel is shame.

Not at the beauty she is sure to be.

Surely not at the creative gleam in her eye.

Not her brilliant hand that will craft a world,

Or her soft skin that will feel the kiss of life daily.

The shame is a shattering indulgence.

A reminder striking loudly of what could have been,

Of where I should have been.

Wanted to be, and missed the closest moments with her –

And those can never be reclaimed.

Because she doesn’t know who daddy is –

And maybe doesn’t even know that I’m not there.

I’m sorry Anya.

I love you even if we aren’t together yet.

 

Small note – even though I only have a short call with her and my son weekly, she spit out a “dada” for me. 🙂