The Missing Cipher

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some days,

less and less frequently now,

I find myself

missing you,

or more accurately parts of you,

and yet having absolutely no desire,

to reunite,

at least not in our prior form.

Curiouser and curiouser.

 

The longing

for that which had proved untenable

time and time again

is such a strange bird.

She lights on my shoulder

from time to time

and I find myself stunned

by her presence.

I don’t want you,

so why miss you?

 

I am told

by those who know about such things

that I mourn

the idea of what I believed

could have been.

In this, I realize what I grieve

is really my own creation;

connection, laughter,

children, a deep knowing,

someone strong enough

to watch the cave door

so I could truly rest

for I am so weary.

 

Maybe it was all just smoke and mirrors?

 

Regardless, I miss you.

Or, more aptly, the parts of you

that made me feel safe, seen, and known.

I suspect you miss the same and then some

from within your unforgiving bunker

not realizing all you left at the table

when you threw it all away.

For there was a different,

and perhaps more fitting, permutation

of us we both could have benefitted from. 

 

It is all speculation though,

a puzzle without a solution,

a code which can’t be broken

for you hold half the pieces

and without the cipher torn in two so long ago,

this code can never be deciphered.

 

~ Mk Michaels, 2015

Departures

Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form. ~ Rumi

Today, my daughter returns to school following an all too brief visit home.  

She does not fully understand this, but her departures leave me hemorrhaging in a sense. My heart twists as I hug her goodbye at the airport security checkpoint. I hold my breath until I am out of her sight and, only then, allow the tears to flow and the deep sobs which sat in my gut all morning to rise. I am certain I look like a nut case in the airport,  but the truth is I don't care. Some things transcend public perception and this, saying goodbye to my beloved daughter time and again after so many other losses in such a short time, is one of them. So I give myself the luxurious permission to not give a damn  what stories others might speculate about me as I make my way back to my car, the car which only minutes before held my dearest child safely within it. 

My daughter will return soon enough, changed yet again, but loved all the more. This is a mother's lot, to let go and yet still celebrate the changed child which returns. ~ Mk Michaels 

Cresting the Hill

Feelings of worth can flourish only in an atmosphere where individual differences are appreciated, mistakes are tolerated, communication is open, and rules are flexible - the kind of atmosphere that is found in a nurturing family. ~ Virginia Satir

The past couple years have posed some incredibly daunting moments, but to see my children come together today at ages 19 and 15 years and truly want to spend time together is, without a doubt, one of the most gratifying maternal experiences of my life. Granted, my efforts as a parent are far from done, but they have crested the hill and I see the fruits of many years of listening, really listening, knowing my children well enough to read between their lines, sharing my experiences (yes, the good, the bad and the ugly), showing up every day even when I was tired in a bone crunching way, and making sure they knew they were, are, and will be loved and respected in all their past incarnations and the many incarnations to come.  To see that both my daughter and son have deep, deep roots and a wide wingspan which lifts them high lets me know that over the years their other mother and I have helped prepare them for their respective worlds and we couldn't wish for more for them. ~ Mk Michaels