Oracle ✥ Artist ✥ Author ✥ Time Traveler

Posts Tagged "literary mama"

Countdown

Posted by on Apr 10, 2012 in Non-Custodial Mothering | 2 comments

In just over six weeks I will voluntarily relinquish custody of our three children to my former spouse, crossing my fingers with unfounded hope and trust, and leave them. Perhaps indefinitely. The person I thought I was will no longer exist and in her place will stand someone else entirely. I'll sell or give away most of my belongings, pack my car with what remains, hug my kids, and drive away. Alone.

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The Picture I Carry

Posted by on Apr 10, 2012 in Non-Custodial Mothering | 0 comments

A picture has been burned into my retinas. It haunts me. I close my eyes and it is there, often unbidden. It comes to me in the middle of the night and at unexpected times throughout the day. I long to push it away, but I need this picture. It's all I have: a mind's-eye picture of my children, of a single moment from the last time I saw them. June 21.

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Chasm

Posted by on Apr 10, 2012 in Non-Custodial Mothering | 0 comments

On Mother's Day this year, a month before I left, I cut Nathaniel's hair for the last time. He sat on the porch stoop in a t-shirt and shorts, shivering in the unspringlike cool, bending his long body to conserve warmth and to make his head more accessible to my awkward scissoring. I held up curling dark-blond strands of his hair, overgrown since his last cut in midwinter, and sheared them short, as if in doing so I could make that last time of such casual intimacy between us stretch into forever.

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Magic

Posted by on Apr 10, 2012 in Non-Custodial Mothering | 0 comments

"There are two exciting things I can't wait for!" Serena's voice over the phone was breathless from excitement when we spoke in early December. "Christmas -- and your visit!"I'm glad to be ranked up there along with Christmas. And I'm even ranked ahead of Serena's own birthday, looming on the horizon. Our weekly-or-so phone calls make only a tiny dent in the enormity of time and distance that stretches between us.

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The Visit

Posted by on Apr 10, 2012 in Non-Custodial Mothering | 0 comments

The bus lurched to a stop, its distinctive orange-yellow easily visible in my rented rear-view mirror. A knot of kids emerged and I struggled to locate my daughter in the gaggle of same-sized girls wearing colorful winter parkas. It had been so long since I had seen her -- would I know her? I saw a girl of about the right size and hair color break free from the group. Was that Serena? I couldn't be sure. Then I saw her, so unmistakably Serena that I almost laughed at having doubted my ability to know my own child.

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