sons and uniforms
I dragged dante around all day yesterday, down to the police station, off to the office and then even to the welfare office (alberta gives you two checks if you GET a job - but fuck all if you can't get it together - I know that my folks would pay feb.'s rent but you know - if the moneys' there you might as well go though the paper work ), well he was sooo bitchy by then - he told me to shut up - that he thought that I was selfish, ect... this girl that was walking on the sidewalk ahead of us gave us the dirtiest look. I think most people are brought up to show respect to their elders (alberta is a very conservative society - they still do abstract painting out here like modernism never ended - bible belt style) so it was no suprise that someone overhearing us would find such great discomfort in hearing a child talk with so much disrespect to his father... We walked the rest of the way in silence - what was I to say - 'show some respect' ? It made me so sad. But he walked beside me - didn't fall back - I tied my scarf around his neck when his face looked cold. And as we rounded the parking lot, when we could see the apartment he said sorry - 'sorry I think that I'm just a little grumpy.' So I picked him up. And in my arms I walked and talked quietly to him and kissed his cheek - " you know I think that the only reason that you say those things is because you feel safe, and it's good to express your emotions - your very good at that ."
We came in and sat on the couch together and talked, his arms around me. Talked about what was wrong - what we couldn't change and had to except. It's hard to be there for him - the games are mind numbing repeatative - honestly I would rather cook something in the kitchen while he played by himself. Relishing the privilage of his company in a quiet detached way, but that's not, I suppose what he's crying out for. Being a parent is hard. It's frought with difficulties. I cannot imagine coming of age now. When I was a child the world was still stable. He was born in the shadow of Y2K - we we told that the world may even stop - and when 2000 came to australia and we could see the live broadcast from the beaches - seeing the sun rise - I felt such a great sense of release - that the world would not stop - I tried to hide this, I remember - because willow caught me there with a tear in my eye and she laughted at me.
Well then came 911, and the litany of what has followed. These are things that we all shared - and I suppose that, in sharing them, it made them bearable. But dante also saw me come undone - brought down by a love for a women, and nothing can be done about that now. I have somehow regained some of what was lost. And I am surprised that the police record seach turned a blind eye to all the offical records that now mark my name. Who better to look after the crazy then someone that has suffered from the same savage affliction.
I cried a tear or too then, at the openness of this beautiful child, my son. But that, because of all that has come and gone - drives him crazy - I know that he remembers all to well the days that I would start to cry and was utterly unable to stop. And I was taken away - and he went to live with his mother, to be put in day care. Writing this down, remembering, causes a wave of shame that I can not mitigate - I know that I did my best - and in that there is comfort - but I wish that he would have had to part in it. But there was nobody there to help us. I called out for help - and there was none - until it was too late - I was committed and he was taken away... hmmm... where did that tangent come from? The king of tangents - isn't that what you said of me once?
Last night I woke with a scream in my thoughts - because I am not smoking pot - dreaming has floaded back, and I am so ill prepared for it; I have missed 10 years of dreams. Their accuracy is startling. These fears that I have packed away come parading out. Held up in the nightime sunlight of dreams. Willow, my father are such troubling figures in my life. And this morning I am growing weary of them - their remaining power over me - and I suppose these dreams have left me raw and uncomposed - so I suppose that is why I write such words of admission... forgive me.
Monday I will wear the uniform that was given me. Dark blue pants, a light blue short sleave shirt, and a clip on tie. (I hate clip on ties, but they assured me that once someone grabs on to it - with every intent to kill me - and the thing simply pops off, I will know in my heart why.
I am nervous as hell. The women in the security office gathered around me in the last few minutes of instruction - four or five of them - I knew them each seperately but seeing them together, their looks of concern - each listening with such emotional concern - I'm scared - we would think that you were reckless if you weren't... well so then that were it's at. "take the non-violent restraining course as soon as you can - people skills are very transfereable - my favorite nurse said ( it's odd because I don't remember any of their names ).
7.45 - at the university of edmonton hospital - then - (( exhale )) i am scared....
We came in and sat on the couch together and talked, his arms around me. Talked about what was wrong - what we couldn't change and had to except. It's hard to be there for him - the games are mind numbing repeatative - honestly I would rather cook something in the kitchen while he played by himself. Relishing the privilage of his company in a quiet detached way, but that's not, I suppose what he's crying out for. Being a parent is hard. It's frought with difficulties. I cannot imagine coming of age now. When I was a child the world was still stable. He was born in the shadow of Y2K - we we told that the world may even stop - and when 2000 came to australia and we could see the live broadcast from the beaches - seeing the sun rise - I felt such a great sense of release - that the world would not stop - I tried to hide this, I remember - because willow caught me there with a tear in my eye and she laughted at me.
Well then came 911, and the litany of what has followed. These are things that we all shared - and I suppose that, in sharing them, it made them bearable. But dante also saw me come undone - brought down by a love for a women, and nothing can be done about that now. I have somehow regained some of what was lost. And I am surprised that the police record seach turned a blind eye to all the offical records that now mark my name. Who better to look after the crazy then someone that has suffered from the same savage affliction.
I cried a tear or too then, at the openness of this beautiful child, my son. But that, because of all that has come and gone - drives him crazy - I know that he remembers all to well the days that I would start to cry and was utterly unable to stop. And I was taken away - and he went to live with his mother, to be put in day care. Writing this down, remembering, causes a wave of shame that I can not mitigate - I know that I did my best - and in that there is comfort - but I wish that he would have had to part in it. But there was nobody there to help us. I called out for help - and there was none - until it was too late - I was committed and he was taken away... hmmm... where did that tangent come from? The king of tangents - isn't that what you said of me once?
Last night I woke with a scream in my thoughts - because I am not smoking pot - dreaming has floaded back, and I am so ill prepared for it; I have missed 10 years of dreams. Their accuracy is startling. These fears that I have packed away come parading out. Held up in the nightime sunlight of dreams. Willow, my father are such troubling figures in my life. And this morning I am growing weary of them - their remaining power over me - and I suppose these dreams have left me raw and uncomposed - so I suppose that is why I write such words of admission... forgive me.
Monday I will wear the uniform that was given me. Dark blue pants, a light blue short sleave shirt, and a clip on tie. (I hate clip on ties, but they assured me that once someone grabs on to it - with every intent to kill me - and the thing simply pops off, I will know in my heart why.
I am nervous as hell. The women in the security office gathered around me in the last few minutes of instruction - four or five of them - I knew them each seperately but seeing them together, their looks of concern - each listening with such emotional concern - I'm scared - we would think that you were reckless if you weren't... well so then that were it's at. "take the non-violent restraining course as soon as you can - people skills are very transfereable - my favorite nurse said ( it's odd because I don't remember any of their names ).
7.45 - at the university of edmonton hospital - then - (( exhale )) i am scared....
posted by Dear PM at 7:06 PM
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