|A Note to You (Snow Day Blues) - Original Prose
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|Author:||poettess [ Mon Feb 22, 2010 5:45 pm ]|
|Post subject:||A Note to You (Snow Day Blues) - Original Prose|
A crow caw caws over my head as I shovel the last of the wet snow from our drive and porch. My back aches as I think of all the things left to do and all that has been done today. I got up at 5am and still made it to work five minutes late. I smiled at the thought of you and the children waking up to the news that it’s a snow day. You can stay home from your class today and play with the kids until you have to go to work. You’ve been so wonderful these last few weeks after your mother had a heart attack, so sweet and introspective, as though your precious family means so much to you. I’ve cherished every moment of your concern and your desire to be with us. All those years of pent up anger over your lack of concern over the house, the yard, the kids, the bills, or any of the tasks at hand melted away in just two short weeks of caring and nurturing from your sweet smile and loving arms. I began to trust you again and plan for our future, thinking you would be in it and want to participate. I hoped you would like the colors I picked out for the paint on our walls and the furniture I carefully selected from the used ads. A new start. A new beginning. A new US.
I stare at the bills for a moment as I rummage for another check. I manage to get them out to the mail carrier before they’ve left for the day and sigh in relief. My second job calls me to some tasks as the children finish up the homework that was not done during the day or on the weekend and I urge them to clean their room. So much to do and the guilt weighs heavily on me that I do not have time to play a game with them or paint their nails or even listen to them read as I feverishly perform my duties. They seem to understand my desire and my lack, even though they’ve spent the day playing video games and watching TV, they know I want better for them but just can’t muster the time. The laundry piles must be washed and folded. The dishes need to be cleaned and put away. The dinner needs to be made. Work needs to be done. I stare out the window like Angela into her ashes, steeling myself to take the punishment that is due me. You are not bound by these goals or by these requirements, you are free as a bird to enjoy what makes you happy, entitled even, to enjoy what makes you happy. I hope for the best future I can give my girls, and one thing they will not do is settle for whoever smiles sweetly or pays a little attention. They will know better because they have a father at home and will be smarter, more assured, more choosy.
I dig myself slowly out of my snowed in house and make a path towards the street. The work is hard and more snow is constantly being added to the piles in front of me. When I finally reach the end I will look up and close my eyes as the warm sun beams down on me the avenue of my exit. I am capable, I am strong and I will do what is right by my girls. Swallowing my pills, I will eat my dinner, and go to bed to face another day.
|Author:||oblivion [ Tue Feb 23, 2010 8:42 am ]|
|Post subject:||Re: A Note to You (Snow Day Blues) - Original Prose|
Thank you. I enjoyed reading this.
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