February 14, 2014
How is it that a woman takes charge to take care of her family because there are no other options with zero help from the other side, gets ridiculed and scorned with words of how shameful she should be that she is not home enough to be with her kids. Does that make sense? And yet she is torn because if she doesn’t work how will she live and be able to provide and if she is always working how is she living?
Her heart breaks and can’t win, and yet the other half doesn’t see where all of this began, nor chooses to make it better. It’s all her fault that he decided not to take part in his family and she is made to feel guilty for filling the shoes that never fit him to begin with. She can kill herself to make ends meet, yet he doesn’t lift a finger. Her sweat, blood, and tears are seeping through her pores and yet he watches while she suffers to provide and make her life balance.
He drowns himself in substance that is nearing him to an early grave, yet she is the problem and cause for such destruction. The crackle sound of every black can being opened, one right after the other, disgusts her to the core and the nasty stench that lingers with every step outside for what seems to be a trillion times a day, makes her want to puke. But remember, she is the one with a problem.
Her dying hearts desire to be a great mother has become be a great worker. Do her kids realize the purpose behind it all or is it so far gone that it doesn’t even matter? Do they secretly believe that the idle parent is a better choice because she is hardly ever around? Is there peace to the chaos that continues to unfold so fast that she can hardly keep up, let alone recall what day of the week it is? These thoughts run through her head while he sleeps without worry or stress for providing. She is greedy he says…money hungry, as though she splurges on nonsense. She hesitates to get anything for herself because she is constantly worried that something more important may be needed.
He fails to see the lights in the house, the roof over his head, the sound, picture, and images from a 50 inch piece of equipment mounted to the wall that he clearly seems to be employed with 24-7. But she is greedy, always wanting money; always complaining about how she needs help. She has cried for help time after time again, but the living dead has nothing to give her. He claims to care, claims to try, but the efforts made are only to lift the silver cap on his precious black can and strive for more puffs from the sticks in his valued red box. All to be consumed in sheer pleasure of what he likes to call life.
She should be embarrassed that the little time she spends with her kids is not enough, but every moment is valued and spent well, producing quality that is memorable. Certainly something he was never able to provide. Those are the things her children will remember. But, how dare she believe that she is making right choices and making the best of her situation. What a cruel being she is to ask for what should already be done. Where is her head? Buried in the sand, feeling defeated every second that goes by; helpless because he is helpless. What a selfish girl for wanting more for her family. How ridiculous that she wants her children to have better and not witness a struggle, but she is a fool for killing herself just to make that happen.
She asks why this is happening, but the answers are never clear. How could she be so foolish? She feels hurt, experiences pain, suffers from lack, yearns for energy, cries because she cares, loves till there’s no end, and yet how does he feel nothing? His corpse walks around, but his being is dead, motivation lost, desire depleted. Where did it all go?
Her value certainly had a price and once it was paid, she didn’t matter anymore. To be priceless is worthy or cherished and she is obviously not. With her heart blackened from the pressures and heavy weight, she tries to rest. Though not for very long because she has a job to do. She has fallen and fallen hard. She knows better to get back up and keep moving forward, but she feels weak. Though she lacks strength she is humble and blessed to have two beauties that she can never imagine living without. They are her purpose. They are her dream. She sweats and bleeds so they can have a blessed life.
How is it that a woman loves her children so much she will go to the ends of the earth to be sure they are taken care of? What kind of woman gives all she has in her to fight for her children’s well being? How is it that a woman will give her last breath for two souls that have changed her life forever? Perhaps there are some women who would do all of these things…maybe more. I can’t be certain of the rest, but I know this woman is still standing; fighting for what’s right. Who is this woman of such God given fire? This woman is ME.
Lord, take my pain, my burden, my hatred, and unforgiving heart so that I may move beyond this hell and into your light. I can’t bear the weight, for it is pushing me down. May I walk in your plan and out of the darkness for You are my refuge…my hope.
--Lydia A., 33
