There are several ways to cope with feelings of fear and rage. When I was younger I would cower, when I became a young teen I ran, fought and at times used my own rage…let it bubble up until it had nowhere to go but to be unleashed upon others and when I hit 18, had my son and saw what was truly important I was able to fold all of those feelings; the restlessness and urge to lash out, make others afraid of me to ensure that they would leave me alone, into a blanket that only needed to be unfolded should someone threaten our safety. Like many others I figured out that love does in fact heal many wounds and the love I have for Jeremy, the way I instinctively needed and wanted to protect him and be a woman he would be proud to call his mother, well that ointment healed wounds that had been raw and exposed for decades. I’ve often indicated that my son saved my life and I assure you, it was not for dramatic effect. The path I was on would have assuredly destroyed my life, either figuratively or literally. Took only the wrap of those tiny fingers around mine, the grip from a three pound survivor lying in an incubator to show me what strength really was….inspired me to put all of that bullshit aside and pour my whole heart into caring for that young man and ensuring that he always felt safe, loved, protected and that rage touched him as little as humanly possible.
I stumbled along the way. I was far from a perfect mother in the beginning and even had feelings of anger towards my son, as if his being there was somehow a burden that I wasn’t capable of shouldering. Once again it was his overwhelming love and affection, those tiny hands on my cheeks when he would grab my face and kiss me. The way he looked at me like I was the most important person on the planet. The way he slept beside me, so soundly, his tiny chest rising and settling, his little lips tugging away at an invisible bottle, dreaming of whatever it is two year old's dream of. The confidence he wore, even as a little one, that showed me that he was growing up feeling safe, cared for, loved and protected. Changed everything for me. Taught me how to open my heart, trust, let myself be afraid but not allow that fear to turn into rage or resentment. I did raise my son but in many ways, he raised me too. Can’t remember the last time I was so upset, fearful or angry that I wanted to actually hurt someone…..until this morning.
Jeremy had the early morning shift today, was at his car at 6:00AM to find that his window was broken and the contents of his car cleaned out. Third time he has been robbed in the five years he has lived in Louisville. Mother fucker. The call came in at 3:00 our time, the voice of our beloved son bubbling with rage as he looked at a brick sitting amidst broken glass in the car he was about to drive, to the job he has had for four years, to support himself and pay for the things he wants and needs. I feel my son always but never quite as much as I do in times like this.
He’s old enough to take care of all he has to, in fact he has already called the bank to cancel his cards, (yes and learned a powerful lesson, I’m sure, about leaving your wallet in the car) is having his window repaired and has called both the police and the insurance company. He’s handling it, is very capable and while I’m sure this harsh bit of reality will leave a mark, he will recover just fine. Doesn’t take away this feeling I’m left with, being thousands of miles away and not being able to do anything to help my son. Can’t even begin to explain how helpless this feels. How angry and shaken I feel…in fact my hands that normally fly across the keys of this laptop are shaking so fiercely that the backspace key seems to be the only one being properly used. The gnawing in my gut causing a wave of frustration induced nausea to hit me every ten minutes. Nothing I can do…..
I can however turn my anger and frustration to words across my screen. Not let this one event undo anything that makes me the person I am now. The greedy fuck that took my son’s things, his hard earned money and has caused me to cancel my own credit card, the one I gave Jeremy to use in cases of emergency, he has broken a window, ruined a day and made me way fucking angry but….I get to walk out of my house this morning knowing that my son is twice the person that thief is and that right there makes me proud.
Things are looking up already.....