Maybe I’ll write a country music song

When Things Stop Working

The hand of an almost stranger touched my heart
He knows when to ask, so the tears well and start.

There is a short gaze, I turn away,
To spare another the pain that breaks me each day.

I wallow in my cup, he cradles my hand
So many hold me, so it’s not hard to stand.

I carry it alone but am held up so high,
so only brief tears with no room for the sighs.

The hands of a friend just touched my heart, with the hands of a friend, I won’t fall apart.

A brief update:
Said friend asked with a smile how the start of my New Year was going. Tears erupt. I had just come from the doctor and learned that I had a new good size tumor in the Sternum. While the drug is working everywhere else, this new tumor arrived. Merry fucking Christmas. The doctors continue to be shocked on the oddity of this cancer. So, we will rid this with radiation to lesson the astounding pain it causes, and add a chem to the Afinitor. I advised my doctor the reason this happened was due to stress. I know it, feel it. I bend to the wishes of an old lifestyle and others. It is time to accept my life needs to be CALM. I can no longer accept anger, grief or stress near me, AT ALL. So, no, not the start of the New Year I was hoping for but maybe we will get the shit storm out the way earlier. BTW: Thank you all for your always, sweet comments!

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Are we really this angry?

My physical body cannot endure the tragedy of today’s news. My emotional mind as a mother cannot fathom the depth of sorrow brought on by today’s events. I tried to not read about the shooting in Connecticut, I tried to look out the window at the snow which always brings a smile and ignore the happenings of the world outside in order to preserve my health, but the reality of life is that it comes with heartbreaks and loves, tragedy and elation. So, I must acknowledge those sweet souls that were lost today in order to live a fair life and to honor the victims. It hurts so deeply to think of the families who are left behind. If my heart hurts this much without knowing who they are, how must they feel?

I don’t think breaking plates will get them through this year intact. I want to ask why, but there is no answer. There is no reasoning to the tragedies that we endure in a world where such anger breeds hatred towards children, diseases that cut to the bone, losses that are unexpected…. I have realized that why is a stupid question. What is the imbalance which creates such a force that destroys the lives of good souls? Has this always happened, or has the magnitude of tragedy grown with the swelling of our population, technology and culture? Will this kind of energy be our demise, the energy that has children killing children?

My husband and I took a weekend away to have a quiet moment in the mountains, away from my doctors, and a break from the baby and now all I want to do is listen to my son breathe as he sleeps and hold him tight in the morning no matter how early he awakes. I realize in this moment, despite what ails me, that I am blessed. It seems that we never do know what will hit us. There is simply not enough compassion to give to those who have lost a child. I am in awe of the strength of those who triumph over such tragedies, with full hearts and billowing memories.

Perhaps the memory of today will assist lawmakers in limiting the amount of rounds one can amass or purchase at Walmart. Perhaps the purpose left behind is to enlighten us to acknowledge why there is so much pain in the living, causing all of this dying.

If only…

…I had to worry about the tank being half empty. But hey, I voted from chemo jail, after chasing a nearly two year old around all morning with a bad cold, etc. I am not measuring the exhaustion level, only giving perspective. I know people are cold, hungry, and need the tanks full to get to work, but being a New Yorker I think I can safely say that comforts get too comfortable.

I ask my friends back east to take the key out of the Hummer and put their foot on the bicycle and get to a polling station with gratitude that you have the energy to ride a bike, and are able to vote.

Does this sound bitchy? I guess I should get off Facebook, too much complaining about gas station lines.