stills

I smile when he calls them- I love how they run for the bed and snuggle up in the covers and cuddle up to the phone… Its medicine. When they were babies and he would fall asleep with them on his chest- I would watch them sleeping and the snapshots are big life size portraits in my brain. He would shower with them and hand them out to me all slippery…

A lot of what you love about a person is those snapshots sometimes… of things like the way he cried when they handed him Naz- No before they handed him Naz- his tears when I was 5 months pregnant and my water broke and they were taking me up to Christiana Hospital and Id had already been thru that with Elijah and him just seeing me cry made him cave. Or when I think of the wrinkle in his nose when he would do the ‘sniffy snooty’ with them and they would just giggle like it was the best trick ever invented. They were so easy and he was their favorite person on earth… He is still their favorite person on earth.

There were plenty of stills for me to close my eyes to over those years- Him coaching their soccer or carving pumpkins at their school… One of the saddest is when he waited in the car outside the clinic when they told me I couldnt have Addy… Nazy sleeping inside that daddy cuddle that belongs between fathers and daughters of girlies under 2... sweaty hair stuck to the face and that wet slobber spot on his shirt the size of her head, times 2.

And I have visions of terrible things- like the condom wrapper that fell out of his robe last year when I was stepping into his bed- or the shame on his face nights 1 thru 17 when I waited up for him and he just didn’t care to come home- she was more interesting than my heart was valuable. And thank God- I didn’t have to see his face when we said our goodbyes…

I went kicking and screaming, when I had hoped I would go with grace, peace and love. That boy has some images in his brain… and sadly- me crying, pacing, devastated- will replace the visions of me painting his house or telling him thank you for it - him standing on a latter and my mouth finding his warm… I guess when you over stay it like we did- you lose the 3am- passionately poised- nursing mama cowgirl moments and his grandfather kissing my hands, my hands. And god I had hoped the countless times we were up to our elbows in good music, even better food, the worlds best people and laughing- happy kids were the pictures that were going to keep him up at night.

But he chose to hate me instead.

And no matter how hard I try- its still EFFORT for me to hate him. I wish it was natural. I wish it was effortless.. But its just impossible.

So plan B has become to protect myself. Because I’m powerless to loving him. Every time I look at those kids- I see him wrapped up in us like pretzels…grubby, long hair; a little CSNY; and my head fits right under his chin and his breath is still my lullaby.

I just have to avoid him. I’m 2 states away and seeing them run for the phone and cuddle up in bed with him on the line just makes me come undone. He loves them. I have to get past this soon. They need me to. Watching them love him makes it even harder sometimes. It reminds me of what isn’t mine anymore.