Solo Mother

I’m packing up, consolidating my house and my heart for yet another iteration of self in this transformation from married woman to single mother; sifting through what to keep, what to sell, what to give away. I remember the faces of each of the women who came to my rented, crumbling home in those first weeks with pots and pans, towels, books for the kid and books for me, a cup of coffee, a glass of wine. I remember them all, and remember what they gave to me in those first, frightening days.

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This diatribe will go just as well towards vindictive, angry mothers as it will fathers but, as I’ve just gotten done with a tour of the Blogosphere and read some of the nasty, crappy things some fathers have done to their children to get back at their ex’es… this post will address revenge-seeking fathers.
You suck.

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there are things that still make the bottom of my stomach drop out into a pit of despair… like accidentally stumbling across old emails from the ex from the bad times. When you have lived with pain for years, when you have shifted and accommodated yourself to it, twisted and contorted like the Elephant Man to encompass it… and then suddenly, that pain ends… your body and heart and mind don’t know what to do with themselves. We’ve all become accustomed to our pain, you see. Its absence feels aberrant. The we that is my heart mind soul …read more

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