Friday, June 29, 2012

Rolling back the server myself

I am going to post the post I had intended to post for mothers day. I can't change the events that happened that day but I can take back my power my doing what I wanted to do that day.

I don't allow myself to linger too long in the pits of any head space that rolls through. The longer I stay there the more comfortable I get and that is dangerous. My personal madness is a seductive beast that isn't frightening, but rather a cozy chum that buddies up to you. I existed for years in that head space and it took three professionals a few years to drag me out of my den of personal madness. I have no intention of setting down my guard and returning.

That is me.  That is Dogdancing...or (Meekiwios).

I spent many years celebrating mother's day by dressing up in my regalia and dancing for hours at the powwow at our city park.

I believed my whole life that I was never going to have children. A lie told to me as a small child. Mother's day served as a painful reminder that I was never going to have children.

When I lived on the farm and my farm kids were small they spend the day celebrating with their real mothers. To young to understand that I felt as much like their mother as their mothers did. I loved them deeper than any other human I had ever met before. They were my chosen children. I didn't have to love them, I choose to love them.

Mother's day would make me sad and angry so I took myself out of the picture and would disappear to the powwow and loose myself in the smell of sweet grass and the sounds of the drums.

One year I stopped by to catch a ride with a friend. I was standing by his porch untangling the leather fringe on my dress when he pulled in and circled around the house to pick me up.

He cut the corner too sharply and his bumper gouged into the rose bushes and ripped out half of one of the plants.  He leaned out the window as he stopped by me and smiled his cheesy-I-am-so-adorable-smile and said "I picked you up some flowers, happy mother's day!"

The sight of those roses dangling from his bumper with the roots still attached made me howl with laughter.

To this day that is my favorite mother's day memory. But not because of the laughter....because he was the first person to tell me those words and honor me for the mother I was that no one else saw at the time.

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