Sunday, October 10, 2010

sprinkle me with glitter and sequins to hide the ugly truth

I just returned from Church, the land, apparently of good fertility, based on the number of pregnant women who were carrying babies ( I mean, they had a baby in their arm and one in their belly). Perhaps I should rethink my "no drinking from drinking fountains" phobia, and start drinking the water there?

Whatever. I love Church, but hate it at the same time. I love the Gospel, the scriptures, the message. But it is HELL for me to be around so many fertile women who have no idea that it can all end so very tragically. And you know, I could be a total lunatic and shout it out, shout "Stop! Stop and enjoy every second, it's gone too soon. You might be the next victim!" But I'm planning on saving those gems for my later years, when I become the crazy bird feeding bag lady sitting on the library steps, creeping everyone out.

But I digress. What I want to really say here, and I've totally gotten off topic. What I have been thinking about. Does Leta see me? Is she here, somewhere close by watching me, shaking her head at how I've become this deranged selfish person in the last 8 months? Is she with me? Why don't I feel her? I didn't really know her. I never "met" her. Would I know if she was there? Does she know how very sad and destroyed we are? I am? Does she see my pain, my tears, my secret heartbreaking, pillow punching WAILING? Does she see her Mother falling apart?

I want to badly to put the pieces of my life back together. To assemble them all into their neat little slots, but the pieces are jagged and broken, and they just do not fit together, any longer. It's going to be, if I can ever do it, an amalgam of hurt, and trust broken, and betrayal. Perhaps, as the time passes I will add happy, and laughter, and joy. But it's going to be a puzzle smashed together, crammed with all this garbage, and hopefully someday, sprinkled with some sequins and glitter and bows to wrap up this hellish pit of desolation. To make something beautiful out of something hideously ugly.

I hope she sees that I try. Am trying. There is sunshine, and glitter and shiny things, I can see them, but cannot reach them yet. The summit is too far, and I have no energy nor will to climb out yet.


  1. Oh my goodness. So right on. I haven't dared write much myself about how much it sucks going to church (afraid I'll be struck by lightning, on top of everything else that's happened!). We're Mormon, so going to church is like hanging out in the Maternity Ward for three hellish hours every single week. It create an impenetrable wall of pain that no peace and comfort could ever hope to break through. I ofter wonder why I even go. People's stupid comments (as you wrote about earlier) don't help either.

  2. Annie, Wow. We too are Mormon. I know we are supposed to be at peace, and know where she is and she came for a body, and for a reason, but I am having a hard time with it all. That's great. BUT I want MY baby. Alive. And healthy. Not dead and broken.
    Girl, we need to TALK! Glad you found me!

  3. Megan, I love the part about being the crazy bird feeding lady because I have often wondered which crazy lady I will be. Also I relate to seeing the sunshine, glitter and shiny things but not being able to touch them. I feel as if they are dangled in front of me just close enough but not within reach. Church right now is not often for me, maybe it should be more often. I wonder how the last 11 1/2 months have gone because I feel like a outsider most of the time who puts on a mask to make the days go by.
    Blessing to you my dear friend and I look forward to catching up on your blog.