Neither lost nor found

Well then, it’s been so long I don’t recognize how posts are working on this newest iteration of wordpress. I really shouldn’t drop this on the floor like I have, over and over and over the last few years. I shouldn’t because …

Well, why shouldn’t I? Honestly, it isn’t like there is anything important here, other than when I’m really old I want to go back and read all the things I wrote about being E’s mom when she was little. Since you know you can’t write about teenagers much. And that’s ok. Even though her life is my life in many ways…it is her life that becomes important now. My life is on the wane.

Damn, that sounds more dramatic than I intended. It’s just that the maiden ascends as the mother fades and crone becomes.

I’ve been fighting so long. I think in some ways I’m able to stop some of those battles now. I have found the right place. I belong here in Eugene. In a way I didn’t in Fayetteville. I belong here as well now as I did in San Francisco then. The two places that have felt like home. The two places that have allowed me to be me, at different times.

I envied those I knew and those I loved who found their place in Fayetteville. I wanted to so much but it was never right. Oh there are people I love there. There are people who felt like home when I was with them, but then I’d step away and the comfort fell away like bandage torn off.

I accomplished as much as I could in Fayetteville. We moved there to have a safe place to bring up Em. And to try and reconcile with my family. We were not successful. And we were not unsuccessful. I refuse to regret those years. There are moments that healed my heart (finding Laura, Lisa, and Kathy again, seeing Suzi who was a freaking Goddess who for some reason was my friend(seriously I was Renfield to her Dracula)… and Sara again, that sweet little sister of my heart.) So yes, while I wasn’t fully myself –I am so lucky for the moments I had there for joy and some things I learned.

And moments that made me want to breathe fire yes, that happened often enough.

But now. Why is it so hard now? Well, because I’m the mom of a teenager. Everything changes then. Things I could say and write about I shouldn’t or can’t now because she is fully her own person and gets the privacy . So I can’t write about my side of the story because it is her story even more than it is mine. So really it’s her story now, mine is coming to an end. At least this phase of it.

Why then are all those old memories returning? I am good with this, just getting used to…new shoes, basically, new shoes.