Identity

(For those of you who received the first version of this post.  My apologies.  I wrote this while watching a movie, listening to music and drinking wine.  With no re-reads.  Wayyyyy too much multi tasking.  I revised here… hopefully it will be a little more coherent…)

Here I am.  Sun pooring in.  Music on the stereo.  A quiet house, post tantrums, and fine French wine.  Time for contemplation. 

Oh wait… had to switch to Arial.  Can’t think properly in Times Roman. 

The drama of our lives right now.  I know you must be exhausted reading my posts.  Hearing my drama.  You, who know me well, Drama is my word.  I am not domestically oriented.  I am not subtle.  I entertain.  Like my five and two year old, I love pink.  I love color and laughter and brightness and esoteric art and energy and I love… love.  Am I really almost 40?  Am I a mother?  Am I a mother of a child with cancer?  Some days I can’t believe it.  I’m starting not to recognize myself.  But that is who I am. 

Who will my girls be?  Who will Madelyn be?  How will this epic battle mold and revise her?  Which adjectives will she choose for herself? I am so overwhelmed by this question lately.  I want to live … Out Loud.  I want my girls to live out loud.  Is that what they will want?  I try to exemplify that fun, creativity, love and kindness are the avenue’s to true happiness.  Do they hear me?  Do I hear me?

So what am I trying to say?  I guess that some days I don’t know who I am anymore.  This journey is changing me.  But more important how will it change my darling Madelyn?

And then… in the end… fuck it… does it matter?  Maybe we just need to dance together.  So I will forget to clean my house tonight.  Will you “not” clean your house for me tonight?  Screw you dishes.  Don’t open the spreadsheet from work that needs your attention.  Dance in the sunlight or under the disco ball or in the rain… with those you love.  They might not be here tomorrow.   

And if they weren’t – here tomorrow - would you dance the same?