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I feel like everybody's dying and i feel like there's more that i should be doing, i feel like i'm sitting here, passively letting the world turn upside down and back every day and if there's nothing i can do to stop it i should at least do more to make it easier.
being a 12 year old girl is hard enough without losing your mother. but i can't tell her that, when you're 12 years old you don't understand that it's the age and the gender that's hard, not your life, when you add a hard life on top of that you end up with a self-righteously depressed adolescent. when you're twelve, in your heart of hearts, you still believe in magic, you still believe there has to be something that can make it alright, and you're angry, angrier than you've ever been at anything, that no one seems to care enough to make it all better. and maybe on some level you understand that they can't, you understand that magic doesn't actually exist, and that makes you even angrier, because you realize all the adults you've ever trusted have been deluding you all these years just to let you down when you need them the most. and so you're angry, you're furious, and you let them know, you let them know each and every day and they call you a smart aleck and tell you not to talk back but it's the only way you know to let them know that you're angry, that you're on to them, that things aren't ok and there's nothing they can do about it, because guess what? they're mom and dad and not superheroes. and you're in the middle of being furious, you're in the middle of hating your life and hating your parents and counting the days until something (anything) can change. and you hear that your mother's dying and there's nothing anyone can do. i can only imagine what would happen after that. she has to be feeling unbelievably guilty, she's twelve years old and in the middle of her "i hate my mother" stage and there's nothing wrong with that, everyone goes through that, and now i can't imagine that there's any way anyone is ever going to convince her that that's ok, that her mother understood and didn't blame her, that her mother probably went through the same thing, that she was expecting it, and of course she wasn't happy about it, but she knew deep down she loved her. i don't think there's any way we're ever going to convince her that it's not her fault. she'll know it's not enough to agree with us, "of course it's not my fault" but i can't imagine that she'll really believe it, i don't think i would've believed it. and just when you thought you couldn't get any angrier, you realize you're going to have to go live with your dad and your brother's going to have to go live with his dad and no one's going to object because the one person who could've stopped it, the one person who has been constant throughout your entire life just died. and then you realize that not only are you losing your mother, your house, and your brother, your dad lives in a different school district. and so all the friends you went to kindergarten with and the new ones you met this year in middle school all get to stay in their happy little bubbles, and you get to start over, with new kids, a new family, a new house... i don't know if it would be possible to contain that much rage. i know that i couldn't even cope with the normal twelve year old rage, i don't know what i would've done, i can't even imagine. and i'm two and a half hours away, i'm just the baby-sitter, and i moved away. i feel like there must be something i could do, there has to be something i can do, one person can't possible take that all by herself but i feel so powerless, this isn't my battle, i can't even see her i have to go to work and act like the world isn't coming apart at the seams, i have to walk into a house with prayers hanging on the walls and pray before dinner and pretend that i mean it, pretend that i at least entertain the possibility someone's listening, pretend that even if there is a God that i would worship a being that would do this. I went to church on easter sunday with work, we took three of the residents. and the pastor talked about elian, and said that he believed there had to be a better way to resolve it than with guns and riot gear, and he said he believed that if God had been involved he would've found a way for love to prevail, "because God found a way to turn something as terrible as a crucifiction into" blah blah blah something we celebrate every year. and i was sitting in the back of the church fuming because how can he really believe that and still think of God as a being worthy of our time every sunday? Because God cared enough about his own son to save him but just wasn't "involved" when elian was floating around in the ocean with his dead mother? I wanted to run up there and ask him where God was when Elian was hiding in a closet, and why wasn't he there and don't give me any of that god works in mysterious ways bullshit, he let that happen and that little boy is never going to recover and he let this happen and it's not fair, and i feel like screaming that at the top of my lungs, IT'S NOT FAIR. and i think the standard church answer is that it doesn't have to be fair but i don't want a god who favors his own son, you can keep him and i'll remain my blasphemous self and look for a new job. ~me |