The real challenge arises when something new presents itself. The opportunity to regain some of the parts of yourself that you never thought you would have again seems a lot like finding an old friend. Do memories replace each other? If I make new, will I slowly lose the tiny remainders I have been holding on to for so long?
How many things have I allowed to pass by out of fear of losing the few things I am certain of? How valuable is certainty when uncertainty holds so much potential?
...a rant, for clarity's sake:
It dawns on me, at the strangest of times, that I have all the responsibility and half the help. I look at Dylan, apologetic, and the words "I am doing the very best I can" escape every time. It's not a new thing, but the guilt gets unbearable at times.
Single moms have to start from scratch. We have to work through financial messes alone, figure it out and lose everything a few times before solidifying a mindset on the subject. We have to change a first diaper, learn how to get strained peas out of onesies, read instruction manuals on how to get the car seat facing the correct way so that every time we hit the brakes, our children don't vault into the driver's seat. Single moms have to know the names of Pokemon, and as soon as we do, we have to forget them and not confuse them with the names of Ben Ten characters. Some of us have to instruct a young boy on how to pee standing up or catch a football, or bait a hook, without ever having done those things ourselves.
Years of trial and error and decisions made out of pure fear and self-preservation have made balance priceless. A tiny baby boy had to pee in my mouth before I learned to cover it up while changing him. I had to be asked to leave apartments after being a month late for six months straight before I learned to budget for rent and pray for gas money. I had to learn what things I could leave to faith and hope and what things I had to make happen.
What a tremendous challenge for these two shoulders. What a load to carry on one hip, because the other one is occupied by a little boy. I think I have just recently reached the place where I acknowledge the enormity of this duty of mine and keep moving forward. It no longer stops me in my tracks and weighs me down. I feel like something inside has released, and all of the pain and struggling, all we have gone without is just a thing that once was.
What I am trying to say is this: we are better off now than we have ever been. It's not because there have been huge situational changes, either. It's because I am mentally stronger than I have ever been. I am more capable and I have all the tools I could gain by myself to be equipped for the task of raising my son. So, when I feel downtrodden and I look to my son for inspiration, and when the only words that come to mind -as they do so many times- are "I am doing the very best I can" it has started serving as a reminder to myself that I am. I really am.
I'm no longer pretending or making mistakes or wondering if I am doing the right thing. I'm not doing this because I have my heart where it belongs, in Dylan's pocket, wherever he may go. That is where it belongs.
This newfound peace of mind has opened me up to new things. I made it this far alone. I did this. He is seven. He is a huge kid, with broad shoulders, bright eyes, and an honest fervor for all things new. He is healthy and smart. Dylan is the best kid I know, and it is because I did that. I'm not disappointed in myself. I am proud. All the things I have screwed up throughout my life...they disappear when I see his face.
I've found that I am not as scared as I used to be. I feel ready today to let someone love us. I feel ready to grasp a healthy skepticism and know that I have made it this far alone, and it can only get better. I don't care about pace. I don't care about fear. Those are just words. Insincere words. I care about fulfillment and something to look forward to.
Maybe, just maybe, we can let go of the things we have lost without forgetting them entirely. Maybe we can do this for the sake of a more permanent experience. It seems to me that life is a lot like monkey bars, you have to let go to move forward. While I do believe that life is lived in moments, I cannot disregard the fact that forever is a long time to hold on.
Being a working, single mom is daunting. Sometimes I want to hide out, you all know that. Sometimes I would like a night-just one night-away. Something like that requires the planets to align just so. Most of the time, there is no escaping this responsibility and that is just how it is. Companionship is always an option. Up until now, it has not been one that I have taken very seriously for a million reasons. Here is to hoping I don't regret it. Another step in another direction I haven't really tread with my whole heart. And so, here we go...
A few photos for the sake of catching up:
This last one here was taken by Dylan. I appreciate his abstract take on depth-of-field.
"People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar." -Thich Nhat Hahn
