March 3, 2011
This is inspired by one of those days when everyone seems happy but you really don’t know what’s going on . . . .
(The next one will be upbeat – I promise)
You don’t know . . . .
You don’t know that the woman playing with her little girl in the park has a heart that is broken wide open because the love of her life, her soul mate, the father of her children has died, fell over at the dinner table, his own hear apparently broken beyond repair.
You can’t tell by looking at her that she is bleeding and every drop of blood represents the baby that is no longer there, that no one could tell her when the bleeding would stop, that there would be clots she could feel at the checkout at the grocery store, that they said there wouldn’t be milk in her breasts but she leaks anyway, the fullness swelling with no one to suckle.
You couldn’t tell by looking at her that her mother died last night, she thought she was going to say goodbye but instead is going to bury her mother.
You couldn’t tell by looking at her, with her flowing hair that she had just had her breasts removed and that in 4 weeks the flowing locks would give way to a bare head.
You wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at her that her mother at yelled at her, that she couldn’t sleep for having had bad dreams and her mother didn’t seem to understand her stubbornness, that she couldn’t physically move the growing little girl body, that she had used every bit of strength to pull herself together just so her favorite doll wouldn’t go down the trash chute.
You wouldn’t know by looking at him that he had collected 4 years worth of anti-anxiety pills and that threats from his lover, the verbal and finally physical abuse would inspire him to end the misery and that in a few hours he would be blue on the cold tile floor of his bathroom.