By the Light of the Moon

The little darling is moving in for the kill.  And I’m quite frightened of him.  I think I mentioned a few weeks ago that I walked into the kitchen and found him sitting on a big pack of paper towels; he had scribbled all over the wall with a permanent marker.  About a week after that, I painted some doors in the playroom, and left the gallon of paint right near his artwork, so that I could touch up the baseboard, since he had scribbled on that too.  The can of paint has been sitting there at least two weeks.  Undisturbed.  Until today.  I walked out of the room for a mere 10 seconds to pee, and suddenly I heard a noise, and had an ominous feeling.  I called out, “Buddy, what are you doing?” and the little baby voice answered, “Just painting the wall.”  I may or may not have wiped.  I definitely rounded the corner with my ass still hanging out of my shorts.  He then threw a hellacious fit, because he ‘wasn’t finished’.  I had already wiped ¼ gallon of paint off the wood floors when I took this pic.  Indeed he is a fast painter.

Going through the terrible two’s with him, even though I’ve already done this a few times, is rough.  Dave would really be cracking up at him right now.  He is an absolute manipulator.  I’m secretly very proud of his skills.  His favorite word right now is “butt ass”.  Don’t ask me.  I don’t say that shit.  The biggest darling has tried to explain to him that butt-ass is redundant.  The middle darling thinks the word ‘buttocks’ is insanely hilarious, so I keep trying to encourage him to just say ‘buttocks’, since it at least elicits some laughter.  But no.  He won’t.  He is happy with butt ass, and he won’t stop.

He casually mentioned to me today that he “doesn’t like daddy.”  I’m not sure why, and when I asked him why he mumbled, “bedause (mumble mumble) digger (mumble mumble) big truck.” He also told me he doesn’t see daddy in the sky anymore.  A couple weeks ago one of the muthas was here and he pulled a photo album from my closet, and started looking through it.  He was busy naming people but went through a slew of photos with Dave in them and did not once say, “Daddy”.  So, it’s done.  That quick for him.  A mere 10 months.  And his memories of daddy are all but gone.  Daddy is now just a word.  Not even a person.  The man who held him, sang to him, rocked him to sleep, bathed him, loved him, and even created him, is not even a memory now.  And it’s unbearable.

For all my hardness, all my tricks, all my pink elephants…it’s that, that, which destroys me.  I laid down with big darling tonight to say prayers, and the moon is so bright that it doesn’t even look dark outside.  We held each other tightly in the moonlight pouring through the blinds, and prayed. The full moon Saturday actually is a super moon, and the calendar says the moon will be in the sign of Scorpio.  (The moon moves through the signs, just like the Sun does. I have this great calendar that tells me this, courtesy of some muthas I love in Kentucky who fuel my curiosity for the sky!)  When the moon is in Scorpio it is said that our feelings and emotions are heightened.  We feel everything to the nth degree.  So buckle up people.  That concludes your brief astrology lesson.  Tonight, when I prayed for Dave to be strong and bright and close to God, and basking in his Infinite Light, full of peace and love and happiness, all those things he couldn’t feel here, I really meant it.  I was overcome with a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time.  Love.  I imagined his bright light, shining down on us like the moonlight.  I hope he hears my prayers, and I hope he sends his own back down to me.  I remind the boys often that it is one way we can truly stay connected to him.  Through prayer.  I believe in eternal life.  I believe he is alive somewhere.  I believe he can receive those prayers.  And I believe we can receive his.  Connected.  Eternally.  I’m not sure I can receive anything if I’m filled with hatred.  So I’m trying hard once again to open my heart to feel love.


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