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July 06, 2005 - Wednesday, 10:12 p.m.
I’ve read about the first 65 pages of “Letters from the Earth” and have found it to be very interesting. I guess I didn’t realize that Mark Twain had such a fascination with religion. He takes kind of a dark view of it all, including humanity and God. I find it very thought provoking and very sad on some level. It twists the machinations of man on religion to a very dim view of God. I see where Mark Twain is coming from and can see the logic in his portrayal, but find it sad and unsettling nonetheless.
Lightening storms tonight, and even some rain fall, but not enough to really make it cooler, which is what I really was hoping for. Its dark out and I find that I am tired on some levels and restless on others. It pretty still outside and the crickets are singing up a storm. I can hear the train rumbling through town and the drone of the cars down on the highway.
I sat and visited with Tim today (he’s the guy that loaned me the books), we visited for over an hour about all sorts of things. It was an enjoyable talk. He spoke again about his daughter and I can feel his concern for her and his loss for what to do to help her. It is very hard work being a parent, especially when your children, whom you love with all your heart, start down dark paths and no matter how much you try to explain to them that where they are going is dark, they don’t seem to hear you. My empathic side is all over that. Gah!! Want that I could reach out and gather her up and instill the strength, courage and confidence that she needs I would. What a great art it would be to be able to touch someone and simply transfer to them the things that they need. That which pours out from him to me about her is such insecurity. She is so terribly afraid of so very much. I ache at the thought of it. I look at my three boys and I thank God that some how, unbeknownst to me, they have the strength to be who they are and believe in themselves. I am not sure that I am responsible for instilling it in them; I think perhaps I was lucky and they were born with it, or somehow I accidentally imparted it to them. However it happened, I am glad for it.
My friend, L, has again split up with the man she was seeing. He suddenly decided that he didn’t love her and never did. Such nonsense, he is so paralyzed by fear that it is easier to simply disconnect from the possibility of feeling and perhaps being hurt, then to go through it. L was devastated, and she said the words, “What will I do with all this love in me? Where will I put it?” Sadly she shutdown and retreated to anger and rage. ::sighs:: And I realize that I too struggle with that same thought. “What do I do with all this love in me?” I always hope that perhaps someone will take me up on my offer to love them, but in the meantime I obsess about the kids and young adults. People who touch my life some how, through people I know or talk to and the knowledge that so many of them just need love, someone that can reach out, touch them and hear them. I rarely get the opportunity to actually engage in any discussion with any of these people, I just talk to the people who are in their lives and imagine a chance to bridge that gap. It is usually through talking to men, who just can’t seem to get their kids to talk to them. It is so hard to talk to men, especially for kids and young people. It seems like there is so much better of a communication line between woman and most anyone. Would that I could I would hold and love each one of them so that they could know that there are people who love in the world. Who are kind and there for you no matter what. ::sighs::
When L told me that he’d again broken her heart and that she’d been drinking some I was so very sad. I sat in my back yard, weeding, and fuming. “Should I get up and go over there? Could I actually show up and tell him to leave?” I was angry at him for letting her drink, for just sitting there and not doing anything to stop her. When he knew it was a problem that she was fighting. Soon I was trembling and unable to concentrate. “What did I think? That I was her mother or something?” Well… YES. The closest that she has to one. I tried to call in reinforcements. People I knew could take a harder line then I could. But they didn’t answer their page. I began to tremble more and decided that some how I was going to have to just go over there. I was shaking all the way over to her house, I don’t know if it was because I was mad, or scared, or both. (I so rarely get mad that it doesn’t set well with me). I parked and walked into the house. She was sitting on the couch reading. I just stood there looking at her, until she looked up. I couldn’t smile; I just stood there looking at her, disappointed and so very worried. She looked at me for a couple seconds and started to cry quietly. That was it. I sat down and held her. She cried until her daughter came in and then it was all ‘I’m okay” and “It’s nothing”. There was nothing to do but reassure her daughter that her mother was going to be just fine.
My greatest fear is that she’ll shut down and shutting down is what she’s been doing since then, shifting to rage and anger, familiar bedfellows. She finds it so much easier to feel anger and rage then sadness. I am the opposite; I find it much easier to feel the sadness and not the anger and rage. I think feeling the sadness is more therapeutic, it is what she is REALLY feeling, and she needs to feel it and deal through it. Again would if I could I would gather her in my arms and simply transfer the strength to see it through to her, alas I have no such powers. ::sighs::
I’ve not talked much about Phil. He is in my thoughts constantly. I’m keeping track of the weather and news in Belize. I know enough to have an idea of where he is at for the most part and hope that he is enjoying the trip rain and all. I wonder what awaits me when he returns, perhaps nothing, but still… I hope. I miss his terribly, I wonder if he misses me. It is sad to know that loving someone doesn’t really change them unless they are open to it. You can’t love someone enough to shift something in them, you can only hope that they can recognize and appreciate it, and find what is within them by themselves. This thought applies as much to Phil as it does to L.
So much love in a person, what does one do with it all, if no one really wants it?