My Mom And Me

I remember you telling me how when I began to talk, I’d pick a word and say that word all day; repeating it over and over, like my daily mantra. I wonder if it was because I had so very much to say, that I just started as early as I could? Could be.

Even as a teenager I told you probably a lot more than most kids my age. I never spent too long thinking of you as in the way of my freedom, as for so long you had been my confidant.

Mom, I have to admit that anyone reading these letters to you would surely think I’m one confused cat…and they wouldn’t be half off. I fully recognize my inconsistencies, the diatribes of blither and blather, the occasional foaming at the mouth crazy bei-at-ch rants.

Yet we both know that since I was a wee one, since the first words left my mouth, tis but you I turned to, time and again. Than in my 20’s I went away, flew the coop, got married and thought I’d found a new one worthy of my angled, confused and obscure truths. But old.roger.the.dodger was not apparently worthy, and then you died, and there I was adrift.

You know me Mom, you know how long it takes me to work out my minds entanglements’. Often the thoughts in my head are so fast and furiously spinning round inside me, that very few ever really make it out alive.

Mom At The Plaza BeachI suppose tis why I now find myself writing; but now I know to whom. Tis you.

Through all these trials and tribulations these last 15 years have served up, I’ve often missed your wisdom, your grace, and your knowledge of my inner workings. Since way back into those misty, hazy days after your death, when I turned to genealogy for strength, till on into Port, where I went to sort it all out, I missed you.

At some point or other, upon those Irish shores I found my way, but even than I felt lost at sea. Than after Tim’s death I began to scribe, and tucked away in the corner of that cottage, I began my search for that lost Temenos.

baby-meDay by day, word after tragic word, through dying, through death, and back I drifted to those Helium Sphere days. Of lost, and found, and journey’s back in time, I have whittled away at all those entangled words that have jumbled up inside me for so long.

Till I finally found the way out, yet oddly though I guess you could say I went back To the womb.

The Original Temenos.

Always,

Paula

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