It was snowing, now it is raining

I cried last night because I realized l was loosing Kai. He’s 11 years old. They don’t tell you you have only 10 years till your child no longer wants you the way you want them. Yes, yes, your children are not your children. Damn that!

Over the last few days, every time I have come to hug him, he pushes me away. It’s the holidays, everyone is overloaded, I remind myself.

Tears came. I felt so relieved right then and there to be a living breathing example of change: water comes from me, drips down my face, falls on my pillow and is absorbed by the material. There was something surreal about those tears. I couldn’t believe how comforting they were. They were so cartoony, so fictional: water comes out of humans face, it’s warm and salty; it doesn’t go back in. It is lost substance of the body. Why do we cry? To show you loss, and change, in a pure way.

Warm salty water came out of me and disappeared.

It was snowing, now it’s raining.

Kai came to snuggle with me last night and I felt much better. I felt like a failure, so lost without my mama touch. He doesn’t need me. But he does need me. And I will move with him. I used to think eroticism and motherhood was the crux. Now, as he get’s older, is a tween, I think grief and motherhood is the crux of it all. The crux moves as well.