Oh dear

I wrote the following whitter on Wednesday night. Yesterday and yesternight were very busy, and I fell asleep in snuggle mode in the lower bunkbed of N’s room, so no further whittering occurred. We actually managed that entire list! And it was good! And the turkey was moist!
I had the weirdest insight. I think I understand how people do amazingly brave and risky things, sometimes even losing their lives in the process, but doing great good for society and the world. I’ll get back to that sometime soon. Anyway, a couple of people dear to me seem to have doubts as to my trustworthiness. It all seems to stem from how I behaved between September 2001 and September 2002. Recently I told my daughter’s friend’s mom about my late bloomerhood. She didn’t need to know. We were having a sort of confidential chat while our daughters were busy doing 12-year-old socializing nearby. I did ask her not to tell her daughter, because my daughter doesn’t want her friends to know. Well, on Wednesday her daughter told my daughter that … yeah. Oh, and she told her daughter it was “okay.” But I need to really look at what need caused me to tell the woman (not a personal friend) in the first place. And rethink my open door policy regarding info about me. For the sake of all who I love and care about. Oh yeah, and for myself too. Righto … well, I found that out on the heels of someone else I love very dearly telling me something that indicated to me that I am thought of as someone who might expose another person to less than respectful treatment. It’s not something I would ever do knowingly; but … well, see above. Working through a lot of things. Here is the whitter.

In a half-lit world of twilight shadings
the deep distant thunder resounds
it is unimportant
blending into blue dusk
barely daring to make the sound of its nature
and beneath the darkening ground
lies a secret heart
quiet in wondering at what it is
a sin or a triumph

The thunder shakes all the world
finding its imperative imperious impervious voice
while the secret heart senses once more
its own feeble inability and foolish missteps
causing inherent unforgivability
wondering how it grew wings of hope
as it saw once through a misty dawn
now shivering in the shadows of a certain underworld
the creation of this place
this heart’s solitude and solace
resting in its own home

The heart takes up its appointed space
no more than allowed
remembering all it got so wrong
as trust dissipates into a sea of doubt
actions turn acidic or leaden
in futility
the sorrow breathes
the thunder moves on
twilight is overcome by night
silence is everything

News flash: I asked my husband if something was bothering him. Something was, but not what I thought it might be. Two days ago he took off his wedding ring. It was emotionally devastating to him.
I’m really batting 1000 lately. I want to find a large rock and hide me away under it. I was joking last night about liking the idea of hibernating. I really wish I could do just that right now. I feel like a walking source of pain and doubt for all who love me. This too shall pass. It’s just … one of those days. I am going to my meeting tomorrow morning. I expect there I will be reminded that whether I know what it is or not, there is some purpose to being me. I’ll just take it on faith for now.