I may have failed . . .

Love is a tricky emotions to understand with so many nuances and avenues, all the different types of love that exists--that is to say I came to love the foundation in a soul that my husband has never filled in me. No, I did not have an affair. This is a love that is friendship, a deep friendship, a friendship that shares who we are without fear of the other judging. We might question the other, but we do not judge. When I figured out this "love," I questioned myself morals, the traditions, and what it was that made this love possible. This other person fights for my emotional well-being as I fight for "Taylor's"--I use a neutral gender name for protection of self and other. There is no other attraction within this "relationship." We have agreed; we are emotionally there for each other. "Taylor" fights to remind me how strong I am; I fight to remind "Taylor" about the strength possessed within "Taylor," remind each other daily our strengths that carry us forward--Taylor has his demons, I have mind: together we fight.

Now, knowing that I no longer love my husband, and I have figured it is due to the lack of emotional support throughout our marriage and his inability to fight even with support, I pray for the guidance upon the decision I have made. Most of what will occur in the months to come will be lain at my husband's feet; his decision will decide my final decision; however, separation at this moment is needed for him to first see--I think this illness of Vincent's has started that, but he still continues in self pity and pushing others away. I doubt complete understanding will come for him--faith has always been an issue for him. I guess I'm trying to say, I want a complete man (not necessarily a man that has nothing physically wrong), a complete man that fights and supports as much as I do.

I thank you "Taylor," even if you do not make it through your turmoil for showing me how love works. I hope you read this.

Building Blocks

The dishes stay stacked      (like Richter 10 buildings)        on the counter
in both sides of the sink                                My eyes count the hour

      hand by hand into the rack      (the difficulty of shaping)

empty                   and full                 at every moment                             just one      (pulled out of place implodes)      could be wasted

      for    . . .

--I must ask myself over and over
What am I doing here--

                pen to hit the paper                       drop a word                       shatter a letter
                (rupture)                                             (toppling)                            (rubble)

--One letter, just one letter                        Dear Jesus

                Please rescue me
                                find the time to take away the cancer--

This is a waste

repeating a task                                                                     that repeats before I’ve finished

       Anaphora

at its best

More on Polar with Mom

Dawn Luebke November 3 at 1:14pm

Okay, we have a second word becoming more visible: more. Then, with occupational therapy, she was able to get him to say, "oh yeah," which is part of the order of the vowels he has been practicing: ae, o, oo, i (long e sound), and eye (forgot the phonetics for 'i'). He even said MOM today! Ha ha, I was able to hear MOM! Yesterday the speech therapist worked on picture board, identifying yes and no, pointing to it to communicate. His grade for the test given was 75%. Have to always make sure he is looking at the board.

On the physical side, when I left this morning, he was able to roll his right hand. It took a long time to get the message from the brain to the hand, but he did it. I could see the muscles contracting, the arm wanting to obey, and I could see the rest of his body working to make it so. I hope he is stood up today, placed in a chair, and sits for an hour before radiation.

And . . . the x-ray showed pneumonia depleted.