A melange.
Thursday, Sept. 12, 2013 - 4:50 p.m.
Babies.
Kids.
They have been on my mind on a whole nother level lately. It's cray.
A couple days ago, I woke up thinking about my late baby cousin, Kenny. He was born with an umbilical hernia. He never made it out of the hospital, although he lived for almost 30 days.
I was thinking about how, as he lay, hooked up to the ECMO machine, he would follow us around the room with his eyes. My mom and I were at the hospital so much to see him and visit with him. Even when he was only days old, that baby would lay with eyes wide open, following us intently as we moved about him. I felt like if he could speak, he would have. He would have asked us what is going on and why am I laying here like this?!
I was thinking that it had to be someone else in his body who had been here before. It had to be a person who had walked this earth and knew our family, passed away but wanted to come back and have a look at us real quick. Because the soul that laid on that table and looked at us with wide open, focused eyes could not have been a baby, less than a month old. It just couldn't be.
Then, last night, I dreamt about someone close to me. She had an abortion a couple of years ago. I dreamt about her. She was picking me up from the airport or something. When she walked up to me, she had a little boy with her. He looked to be two, going on three years old. He was whining about being picked up by her but she was busy talking. So I picked him up and kissed his chin. He immediately calmed down. I remember thinking that he had a FRESH haircut but most importantly, that I didn't even know this child's name. She had never mentioned him to me before I arrived in the dream, so I didn't even know she had a child. I kept saying to myself, "How is this chick my ****, but didn't tell me she had a child?!"
I wonder if that was the spirit of the baby that she aborted those few years ago.
The craziest thing about her abortion was she didn't want to tell me but because I up and asked her one day out of the blue if she would take care of any children I had should something happen to me, she felt compelled to tell me. I remember when she called to tell me, she said that when I asked her that, she was trying to figure out how I knew she'd just had an abortion. She also didn't tell me ahead of time because she thought I'd try to make her keep the baby. I still remember that.
In two weeks, it will be one-year since my stepdad passed away. One whole year. It doesn't feel like a year. So much has happened in the past year that it just doesn't feel like a year. His name still appears on a few of the household bills. His voice is still on our answering machine. We're still coming across things that he set up or set aside for future use, as if he would be around to use them when the time came. I still haven't brought myself to make the time to setup my room. It's just....
But a year though. A year. A year of a totally different life. A year of an unexpected life. An unexpected living environment. A year of thinking about my stepdad's death and funeral and my mom being a widow and just.... Chyle. And I won't even begin to add everything with my great-aunt.
This is probably not the "right" place to address the "why" I mentioned in my last post but it is my damn diary so, what they hey....
I did it because..... I wanted to.
I have such a big conscience. There are so many things I want to do but I don't because I think so hard about the consequences and ramifications, not only to myself but to others as well. I don't want to let anybody down. I don't want to become a failure. So I don't do certain things. But with so much shit going on... It's just hard to stay on the straight and narrow path. But I do.
I don't mean I want to rob anybody or kill someone or anything like that. I just mean like, shit like smoking weed. I keep wanting to do it. I need an escape and wouldn't weed take me away for a minute? But what if I get drug-tested? Or what if I let it take over my life and I become a bum? Not saying that happens to everyone who smokes weed but it's a thought that crosses my mind!
So, yeah. I don't do certain things that I may want to do as an escape so I stay away from them. I stay being a good girl.
But this opportunity was presented to me. And I wasn't supposed to participate but in the moment, that shit was exciting. And it took me away from thinking about everything - I mean, with two other naked people in the room, what can you really be thinking about other than them, right?
And when you have two people ready to take you away and you ain't got to do shit but lay back and float a-damn-way?
Yeah, I took them up on that offer.
And I don't regret not one second of it.
At all.
Good shit.
So, yeah. I'm dreaming about the ghosts of aborted children and remembering dead people. Sue me for having a threesome.
Sue. Me.