I'll Have To Keep My Post Titles Short Now | Juxtapositioning
I wrote this about a week ago: About a year ago, I drove out of one world and into another. I thought then that I had left certain aspects of the old world behind, but I failed to see the invisible trailer attached to my black Honda CR-V, the one carrying the pieces of who I had been. When I started writing here I wrote as if that trailer didn't move the 3000 miles along with me, as if it was just The New Me here, the one that didn't feel as if it had walked out of the two-dimensional world of a Mother's Day card. In the past year I've been rewriting what it is for me to be a mother. Writing and rewriting and endless editing, mostly from within my head and from 3000 miles away, connected by infrequent phone calls and the thick strong cord that forever links us heart to heart. I'm not the mother I was. But not only can't I escape being a mother now, I have no desire to. I love my children. They are a part of me, and most assuredly I am a part of them. Two of them are here with me now.
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