Ocean

Dear Seth,

The currents were strong, rough, almost like white caps and choppy waves. I was looking for answers, that seemed so hard to find. I prayed for change, deliverance, safety, for a life of more than just survival. And it came. It was what I needed, more of a shock than anything, not necessarily an answer I would fight, but as you know from my previous letters, they were really cries for help, of lonliness, of the endless nights and doing it all alone. At least now, I am purged of that shell.

The sea is a little calmer now. Only changes in the current about once a week instead of every few hours like a month ago. I am single. After 8 years. Well I have been for 2 months almost to the day. I remember your letter, from 2003, last one before you were gone, maybe I should have listened. But for all the complaints, I am a mother, first and foremost to the most amazing little boy. And I wouldn't change that for anything. Even on the rough days like today of endless testing, tantrums, and my patience shortly leaving under from me.

At night, when its clear, I feel that "calm before the storm feeling" that most oceans often deceive sailors with. I've been pushed in a corner, and I came out fighting. It will seem to most I have lost, but I keep my head. I am right back where I started when I graduated highschool, except I have a kid, no job, the added "baby daddy" which I won't go into even though it is my right to publicly vent and voice and do what I want, I'm above that, and I moved back home. Privacy and space are a luxury I no longer have. My own rules and tribulations of a household to myself don't exist either. But we have a place to go. A roof over our head. A chance to complete the new school path journey I have started. Xander has a chance to be in a stable, loving, home environment and not daycare. He gets to build a lasting relationship with his grandparents. He gets to stregthen his with mine, and can not be afraid to be a little boy, to scream and laugh and play and test, push boundries, laugh, cry.

And on the day when Xander was born, my life changed, it was that ocean sunset, perfect in evey way, in every color type feeling. I fell in love. Probably with the only boy that loves everything about me and wants to be with me and needs me, and shows me every day. Did you know he will cover me with his blanket, his most prized possession? He looks to me to make sure its okay, knows that no matter what shit hits the fan, he will not be affected, he will be okay, he will always have me, always be okay, because we are together. He knows internally, that its ingrained in him, that where I go, he goes, its not negotiable. I changed my life for him that very earth shattering, horribly painful moment he came into the world. Through all the unsuccessful feedings, projectile vomitting, hospital stays, surgery, my surgery, and us trying to figure out this new life together. We grew together, me and him, him his first year, me, my first year as a mother, as knowing that my life is not my own, that he is always first. I gave up free time, most friends, and we learned to go everywhere together. I know that he doens't nap in the car. He loves country music. Is terrified of recliner chairs with the footrest up, and also hated to have his sheets changed. His newest accomplishment is being in the 10th percentile for weight. He's been on his own weight line curve since about 5 months old, and hasn't been back on since. He's half my height. Who needs the park and toys and swings when you can go for a walk or run up and down the driveway? Who would have thought that at 3 months he had his own room, and at 2 years we are roommates? I love to hear him breath when he sleeps. He's quick to anger in frustration, but I need to remind myself, however frustrated I am, he is twice as much, because he can't say how he is feeling. So yea, I would get frustrated too. He loves to sing, he will sing back and forth with you. Loves musics, guitars and drums. He loves to please, making someone happy and doing the right thing is already so important to him. He loves to help, I want him to do be independent. Remembe when you taught me how to unload the dishwasher at 8? He's already doing it at 2. For better or worse, we are all each other has. But really I would say thats only better.

Now it seems the ocean sets a different pace- three various kinds. One is almost exotic, tropical feel, of warm heart, clear waters, so you know what you see is what you get, but you also know that pretty much its so "tropical" you will never travel that current.  The other, is traveled more as a sometimes current joureny, where there are no lines, no boundaries, you are sometimes drifting off the map, sometimes following the compass. But the ship is efficient, steady, it repairs itself, has the same nuts and bolts caliber as the kind of boat you would want to travel, but its newer, so you aren't sure if it is as reliable as it appears. Can you trust it? Since you know the journey you want to travel, I guess the ship has to prove its relability and acceptance to the path you want to sail with it. The third current, a surprisingly peaceful flow of old and new, faithful, with an air of mystery. It blends with your current sail the most, out of all, but wasn't really anything of any kind of pace you wanted to set. And swimming with the turtles is okay, as it switching to swimming with the dolphins. It's nothing of anything you would have expected, but has the promise to turn into everything you wanted, a sweet, lullaby of seaweed, drifting breeze, a current you would want to sail no matter how the winds have changed ships.

I'm content. With whatever ever ocean I land, whichever one I sail, because I know whats in my boat. No surprises. Its Xander. And Me. And what fits us both. Not what fits anyone else. And in that boat is the truth, and it won't be compromised like I let it so many times. And thats on me, no one else. I won't play dumb game, I can only be me, and if that isn't enough to offer, then I guess I'll know that sooner better than later.  I know that I'm alright, that even being forced to fight, to navigate backwards instead of progressing forward like I should be at 27, could actually be the right kind of "forward"

I miss you, always.

Love Shannon