Tuesday, December 20, 2016

Days of kindness

I just read my daughter's posting on a day of kindness and I realized I have no days of kindness in me. Michelle, you are a better woman than I am because I don't see that hope. The Market may be extactic, stocks may soar and interest rates rise but I see disaster. I don't have faith that all of these wealthy contrarians will take the reins of government and be struck suddenly by the enormity and complexity of governing for the good of all people. I see vindictive, narrow minded, judgemental people using power to overturn the minimal, incremental changes that have been made to improve people's lives and burning them to the ground. I see a band of righteousness tearing down the trappings of "liberalism" with the same conviction ICIL has toppled centuries old sculptures and monuments to past civilizations. I fear that the followers will fear crying foul in case the eyes of the new realm turns to them and the sword of Twitter marks them for all to see as doubters. If I didn't have children and grandchildren I love and cannot bear to think of leaving I would find a different country where I had to walk to town to find an English language newspaper, had no reliable internet and was outside the target zone to hide for the next four years.

When Obama was elected, they cried he would be the anti-Christ and lead us into a socialistic, Muslim regime. My only thought is the refrain from Wicked "I hope you're happy, I hope you're happy now".

Sunday, December 11, 2016

Penance

Say four Hail Marys and an Our Father, sin no more. If only it were that simple. As if that small act of penance would be the marantha of life. Penance is like Chinese water torture one endless drip day after day. One intake of breath, one forgive me to the unknown gods. The hope that small acts of kindness will ward off the retribution of the gods, for all of the selfishness and simple blindness to the world.

At the end, Mom was racked with remorse and anger for the slights and sins of the past. For the many indignities suffered from being poor and Irish, the imagined guilt of not loving her children enough, of always feeling that she didn't belong and would be found out as aspiring above her station. She was so angry and so conflicted about being angry, somehow anger was a sin that was not on the forgivable list.

This journey that I have started has awakened old demons that I had hoped were long buried. I am leaving the life I have truly loved. The place where I could invite friends and share meals and laughs. A place where hospitality could be practiced. A home where when I turned into the neighborhood, my soul was happy. It is over and I am angry. I want to destroy every trace of that life. I was pretending that it could last so I turned a blind eye to what would destroy my safety. I let it happen and now it is time to pay the piper.

I know in the back of my brain that I am leaving. I am building a safe zone for myself where I can retreat and lick my wounds and figure out who I am. I can't end up like Mom, alone and angry. I have had a taste to happiness. But I know I have to find it for myself now. I have to stop relying on someone else opening the doors. The price is too high.

Vanity the ultimate gotcha.

Vanity 1. Heels, shoes. They were my addiction. I loved being able to wear heels, sandals, cute shoes. Even if they were slightly uncomf...