It's her birthday.....

My job, among other things, requires me to write technical notes, speeches, policy briefs, and policy papers. Writing is an integral part of my job. However, once in a while, I get to write from the heart. I get to write from a place of hurt and hope. It's a time when I allow myself to be vulnerable and to admit that it's not easy and it will never be.

It's not easy because she's not here. Suddenly, I have to be responsible, decisive and considerate. While I never had a problem being the first two, I realize that being considerate is a combination of a lot of positive traits -most of which I lack. How did you do it, anyway? How did it happen that our happiness became more important than your own? How were you able to smile because we were getting our wings when it meant that a part of you had to die? We were too young and too self-absorbed to realize the sacrifices that you made along the way. Back then, it felt like mothers were supposed to love their kids like that. Sure, we did our best to show you how much we love you but I think we never really said "thank you" for loving us more than you love yourself. I know, we know, that you loved us beyond the stars.

It's not easy to live and love like that. If Dad and my siblings can talk to you, I'm sure they'll tell you how unfeeling and tough I've been to them. Know though, that it's not because I don't love them because I do. It's probably because I cannot love like you do. I wish I could. Someday, I probably will. For the meantime, I promise I'll always be responsible and that I'll always look after them, the best way I know how.

Last Wednesday I was seated beside a lady who resembled you. Same clothes, same skin color, same body structure. I was staring at her and thought about how good it will feel to be able to hug her. It would have been the closest thing to being able to touch you again.But I didn't ask if I could hug her. I don't know how I will be able to convince her that I'm not a freak and I'm just missing my Mom who I haven't seen for the last 4 years, 9 months and 6 days.

It will never be easy because I will always be a daughter. I will always need and want my mother by my side, when I'm laughing but more so when I'm lost. I need her tell me that everything's going to be fine. Still, I understand the wisdom behind all that has happened. She has spent her life being someone to every one -friend, daughter, cousin, teacher, leader, wife, and mother. Now, she can stop thinking about everybody and just be herself and be with her Creator.

I hope, and it has always been my prayer since the day we laid her to rest, that my choices and actions reflect the kind of mother I was blessed to have. If I fall short, let me just say that all faults are my own but all good things come from my mother.

You're the best, Mommy. Hands down, no contest.

Happy birthday.

FIGHT

Max told Charlie, "I want you to fight for me". It was a son telling his father whom he didn't see for most of his life to do something to make him stay. He was practically begging him to show him that he means something to him.

Don't we all want that? Don't we wish that the people we truly care for see and return the love that we give them? Don't we feel good whenever a random act of thoughtfulness comes our way courtesy of the people who occupy most of our waking (and even sleeping) hours?

I wanted to say that to someone but my rational side tells me it's stupid. That someone does not have a reason to fight for me. I don't complete his world nor will it be altered by my absence. He has no reason to move heaven and earth nor lift a finger for me to stay. I'm convenient to be around but I'm not indispensable.

But the irony is that I will also not fight nor resist his decision to leave. He is entitled to that and if he decides that it's what he wants, he'll get it. So you'll probably say I'm being unfair. I want someone to fight for me but I won't fight for that someone. Sure, I am unfair but I'm only being unfair to myself. Because even when the balance doesn't tilt to my favor, I'll always wants what he wants for himself. Even if that means what he wants is to let me go.

Breaking Cycles

So I find myself today in the same place where I said I'll never be. Not that it's surprising. I knew it was bound to happen. Keeping promises was never my forte. I have little self-control where it concerns my compulsion to do certain things. Every time the compulsion leads to undesirable consequences, I come up with very good arguments to restraint myself. As luck would have it, I wouldn't heed those arguments and make better arguments in favor of keeping the old behavior.

How then do you break a cycle? My best bet is to develop a new albeit healthier and more worthwhile cycle. One that wouldn't put you at the mercy of another individual. Something that will not take you away from the real world. Anything that will not lead you to perceive yourself as less interesting or inadequate.

Someday and maybe soon enough, I will be able to stop myself. When that happens, I will look at the faces of those people, objects and activities that entrapped me with a sense of triumph and relief. But for the meantime, I have to end these relationships and activities one by one. I will, just watch me.

HURDLES

I have been waiting for that day when I can finally reach the finish line, stretch my arms and just say "it's over". Four years and the race is still on. For a while, it appeared that I was able to find my pace and the energy to keep on going. But life, oh life, decided that the game was becoming boring and so it decided to throw in more hurdles.

I won't quit, can't quit even if I want to. There's just too much to lose and too many small victories that would be rendered immaterial if I stop now. That is not to say though that I do not want a substitute or an upper hand, I could use that now. Anything that will allow me sometime to breathe, slow down and appreciate the whole logic of the race.

They say it's a test of character. I say I hope I get something out of it than just exhaustion and frustration.

Inspiration, where art thou?

A few months ago, I blamed it on the lack of projects that I could call my own. A few weeks ago, I blamed it on a supplement that I was taking. As I speak, I'm blaming my boss for not telling me before hand the form and structure that she wanted for the research paper. I'm seriously in need of another person, object or circumstance to blame for my laziness or procrastination (if you prefer the hifalutin term). It used to be that I just didn't want to attend meetings and I had valid reasons for not wanting to. Then, it progressed to not wanting to go to work at all. Of course, I still have valid reasons to miss work. I will never ran out of reasons where that matter is concerned.

So, I say to myself that I'm just probably bored and tired. That i just need to relax and not pressure myself and eventually I will go back to the old, dependable and hard working person that I've always been. After all, I wanted this job. I prayed for it. It's just not possible that it's only been 15 months and I'm already bored and about to give up. Besides, I'm tired of looking for that elusive career that will make me happy. I thought I found it once but it was lacking in some areas. It would be difficult to swallow that the job i gave up a few years ago because of pride is the same and only job that has truly given me satisfaction. I'm not ready to admit that yet.

And so the last few days, I wasted my time going to places I don't really need to see and doing things that wouldn't amount to anything. It has been a habit of mine to do random things when I feel helpless. Once in a while when this feeling kicks in, I get the urge to connect with someone who is just as bored and tired as me. Misery loves company, indeed. It's a relief to know I'm not the only one. All I have to do is log into the chat room and I feel better. At some point, I'm thankful I'm still sane and capable of conversation (as opposed to those who make online sites more depressing that it should be).

It's 7:00 AM and I'm still awake. Yesterday, I spent 14 hours sleeping. My waking hours is spent in front of the laptop waiting for messages from people I don't know. Tomorrow, Monday, I'm sure I'll have to drag myself to get dressed and go to work.

I need a game changer, a kick to get me back in the game, an inspiration to make me write. I need fuel, fire and passion.

But then again, maybe all I need is a new attitude.