Been There Done That ...So Don't Want To Go There Again!

The kids always open up in the car. 

When there is no where to run, to hide,  THAT is when they choose to drop little nuggets of their lives on me without warning.

SmartGirl needed candy canes. 

Somehow she, BratChild and I ended at the grocery store.

Yes, on the 3rd shopping day left before Christmas I was at a store. 

That I had to drive to.

On the roads.

With all the last minute shoppers gone crazy.

And then, she did it. BratChild just came out with a doozie.

"My friend at school is pregnant."

SmartGirl says- maybe you shouldn't be her friend.

I think the same thing, for just a split second, then my head kicks in and I say something like...

it's going to be hard for her...

I know how lame was I?

But in my defense I was appalled that I even thought for a nanosecond that BratChild should stop being her friend.

Her friend at school?

She is me 30 years ago.

I was the 8th grade girl scared and worried and not sure what was going to happen.

I was the one whose friends stopped calling.

Stopped sitting with her at lunch.

Stopped hanging out at the locker between classes.

The one who was alone.

Pointed at.

Laughed at.

Then ignored.

I told BratChild to tell her friend I was her age when I had GoodMom.

I told her that if she ever wanted to talk I would.

Her mom laughed when she told her. She thought it was a joke. 

Then she screamed and ran out of the house to get some air.

Then she came in, sat down and hugged her. 

Told her they would figure it all out together.

It was different for me. Very different.

I think she'll be okay.

She has BratChild for her friend and that makes her really lucky.

And BratChild? 

She has me... been there -done that- wish K wasn't going to go through it too...

She knows she can tell me anything, anything at all and I'll be there 
for whoever needs me

Who Inspires You... I mean Me

Today is Wednesday. But then, you already knew that.
What you didn't know is that I am trying something new, blog-wise, that is, thanks to a wonderful blog I stumbled across in the wee hours of the morning.
INSPIRE

Today's topic is one posed by Ron Cooper on his companion page on FaceBook-
Who Inspires U?

I wrote this poem many, many years ago... around the time a lovely person gave me inspiration, among other things. Over the years since, I have lived with these same feelings, always finding that thoughts of her made me feel better and more sure of myself.
Putting myself out there for criticism is hard, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Right?

Glass Bottle

I'm in a glass bottle
Trying to get out
Nobody hears me
Nobody listens
Please open the bottle
So can get out
And be free
Of my Invisible Prison

Who Inspires U?

Her name was Mamie. But everyone just called her Mama.
She wasn't my mother, but she protected me with the fierceness of a She-Lion protecting a cub when I was endangered by others. Adults. Those who should not have cast judgement or labeled me without attempting to know something about me first.
I was attacked, physically, by a woman whose son had a crush on me. We were in high school. I was older by a year. I was nice to him when he was new to the school, the town. I never intended to anything other than be nice. A friend.

My kindness was turned against me.
I was called Slut. Jezebel. Whore.
I was slapped. Pushed to the ground.
By the new pastor's wife.

Mamie came roaring out of the house. Down the walkway. All her anger and disgust plain for all to see on her beautiful face. All aimed at the other woman. The adult who should have been above such pettiness and cruelty.
She cast the woman from the yard. The street.
She came to me. Cradled me in her arms. She led me into the house. Sat with me until my tears stopped. My throat raw. Exhausted from the shame I felt.
No words were spoken. Instead she tucked me into bed. Laid a hand on my brow. Kissed me. Smiled.
I was worthy of her care. Her kindness. She considered me as much her daughter as the two girls sitting by my side.
I don't have many memories of the next several days. Just of being cared for and accepted for who I was.
I know she spoke up for me, as did other adults, when the topic of my 'bad influence' was brought up to the adults in charge of our school group. I later heard that only 2 of those present spoke against me. The rest in the full room refused to listen. They knew me and did not judge.
Because of Mamie I learned something about myself.
I am important. I am loveable. I deserve to have my dreams come true.

To Mamie... Thank you for a gift greater than you will ever know.

all thoughts, poetry, lyrics and ideas unless otherwise credited are the sole property of DHDesigns/Dawning(2010)