Patience

As I sit here staring at the screen the song, "45" by Shinedown is resonating in my skull. I have made so many decisions and I'm dealing with the results of it all. I have chosen to live my life on a scale that is more than "settling." I'm dealing with judgements given based on information that was laced with lies. I have had to realize that life is never going to be what I dreamt it would be.

Send away for a priceless gift

One not subtle, one not on the list

Send away for a perfect world

One not simply, so absurd

In these times of doing what you're told

You keep these feelings, no one knows

What ever happened to the young man's heart

Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart

Growing up, I hungered for more than my parents provided. I wanted more from religion. I wanted to live a nicer life. I wanted to work at a younger age. I craved to have my own money. I wanted to go off to college. I wanted to experiment. I was afraid though and I fought my family...a lot. I learned a lot at college but I tried to hide what I was doing.

I was ashamed.

I was ashamed of my home.

My family.

My lack of means.

I worked 3 jobs babysitting, daycare, and at the campus.

I wanted to run away from home and I was old enough to vote.

Fear stopped me.

That is, until I embraced that a lover or partner could "save" me more than religion.

I ran off with the first person I had a major relationship with.

I went from one bad environment to another bad environment... It just wasn't "as bad."

And I'm staring down the barrel of a 45,
Swimming through the ashes of another life
No real reason to accept the way things have changed
Staring down the barrel of a 45

I got married way too soon.

I tried to solve the bad marriage with a child.

I was horrified once I realized I was bringing another human into my life...

One that would need me more than I needed myself.

I couldn't even find happiness in the fact that I had a decent job, an apartment, and was doing pretty well.

When I saw the little human bouncing around during the ultrasound, I fell in love. I had a baby growing inside of me.

I was going to be a mother and I was determined to be the best.

Send a message to the unborn child
Keep your eyes open for a while
In a box high up on the shelf, left for you, no one else
There's a piece of a puzzle known as life
Wrapped in guilt, sealed up tight

I had my son and I realized that life was so much more than I was raised to believe.

Life is precious.

Life is frail.

Life is extremely short when we look at how long our planet has been in existence.

My son almost died after his birth.

I realized how powerless I am.

He survived because he is a fighter.

My son will change the world.

I'm going to help him succeed in this.

As he grew from infant to toddler, my marriage fell completely apart.

I moved on and for a while, life felt like it was going in a good direction. I met a fantastic man. My son was doing better without so much stress. It was hell but it was worth moving on!

Then my ex-husband fought me for custody with the financial backing of his mother.

What ever happened to the young man's heart
Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart

After years, literally, of fighting for custody...

I lost.

Oh sure...

I have 49% custody...

That is logistically STUPID since he lives 85 miles away.

No one understands why a mother is the non-custodial parent.
Especially since I'm not a crackhead, not a felon, not a psycho, and I seem like a good person.

I know for a fact, due to drunken confessions, that most people think there is something that I haven't told them about my life that caused me to lose custody.

Simple fact, I lost because I didn't have money. My attorneys were pro-bono and had never stepped foot into a family law courtroom. We all had this glossy vision of how a court of law obeys rules, believes truth, and what the hell, it is a "mother friendly state."

Everyone's pointing their fingers
Always condemning me
And nobody knows what I believe
I believe

Life has gotten better, of sorts.

My son is learning how vastly different the homes are that he lives between.

He knows that we live independently of grandparents - unlike his father.

He realizes that we love and support him.

He knows that we want is best for him.

Yet I have to sit back and watch him live in a semi-squalor state.

I'm trying my best to make sure I am doing my part to be a good mom.

No matter how many years have passed...

My heart still breaks when I leave him at that household.

The drive to and from work even is filled with questions of why my life isn't what I had imagined.

A mother is supposed to have a child in her arms. I'm supposed to wipe his tears and kiss away the pain. He needs the hugs good night, the hair cuts, the clipped nails, the new shoes, the scrubbed neck, so many parts of life that are taken for granted... I'm supposed to be doing that.

Instead...

I'm the voice on the other end of the phone... Listening to his heart break, his laughs, his stories, and simply sharing thoughts or moments over the phone.

For now I have to be patient.

Changing takes time.

I have a lot of compassion for weekend parents though.

It is amazing what a bitter ex will do.

It is equally amazing what their family will do to help.

My family sat back and let Manbeast & I take the fall.

So I am waiting.

I feel the judgement and some day I'll move past it.

And I'm staring down the barrel of a 45,
Swimming through the ashes of another life
No real reason to accept the way things have changed
Staring down the barrel of a 45