sometimes, the best thing, is holding hands.
mothering can be a distinctly surreal trip into a fairly ugly inner dimension. but the hand holding? utterly unbelievable.
love and kisses,
merry christmas everyone.
A used-to-be wife and an always-mother/woman who is confused and limited by the words themselves...how to separate things? Dealing with Divorce, schools, kids and self...wanting to delight and surprise with words and depth, all while letting go of what I thought was Myself... now that I've really come out of hiding... what to do? blog?! shite.