Living the Dream

I am going through rollercoaster emotions; one moment I want nothing more than to weep for all the times I have needed such.  At times I want to stand on a mountain and scream into the valleys that I do not care if anyone in the world loves me, I am found.  At times, I melt with simple love and joy into the faces and the words and the voices more dear to me than all of life can ever guess.   At times, I want to stamp my foot, pout my lips and tell the world to take a flying leap, I no longer care if anyone else loves me, I have been found by love of my own.  At times, I stare off into blank space and remember those loneliest moments when I felt like someone had thrown their love over me like a shawl…I should have known the brothers and sisters and mother were out there sending such to me. 
I am the lover of life, the hugger of lonely things, the laughter right from the toes, the silliest and smartest moments have all been me and he is about to meet someone unlike any other.  I am sure, I will not be at my best when we all meet.  I will be nothing short of a sop rag saying things like, “OMG, over and over and over….I wish the moment we all are together to stand still, so I can fill every pore of my being with you all before we all burst into one another lives.   I think perhaps I may be stunned silent for the first time in my life.  I am so much the Goddess of Gab that I never shut up but this has driven me to that place where I do not know what could or should be said.  I simply am feasting on every picture and every word right now.
Sometimes when I think of it, I envy those who had each other to hold on to in life.  I have a sense of being lonely all my life for that something I wished for.  To be found is unspeakably powerful in my life.  I no longer feel like it is me, alone, against the world.  It is like, there is this cushion to fall back on.  I realize no one has to love me for anything, but just the sense that they are there is empowering and comforting.

I do not need for anyone to do or be anything that absolutely who they are.  I thought I would stand alone for all my life.  To have all these brothers and sisters; these pieces of myself is more than a dream come true, more than a fervent prayer, more that I could hardly ever have believed.  Just to know they are there will hold me for the rest of my life, whether they do or not.

I have been told I have a wicked sense of humor…oh, wicked being a good thing…but I have a feeling, as I said, that I will simply sit dumbfounded when we all meet.  Give me a minute to let it all sink in and lord help us all then.

Tags: Journal Blog by Shewolf
No Comments »

you will love our sister even more when you get to meet her.  She is a beautiful, intelligent and very talented person. I didn’t always think that of course when I was growing up (lol)  I am also glad my father and mother in their wisdom told her that she was adopted that she was special. We also celebrate her adoption date February 10th as another birthday.
Anyways I am excited for her. and I look forward to her news from her family.
Love your Heart Brother,

Tags: Journal Blog by Shewolf
No Comments »

Prairie rolled up her golden handkerchief and tucked it in her brown breast.
Again and again she waited at the brown brow, waving for as long as I could see.
There were but miles of wide-eyed stare between us. 
I, there, at the eyelash of forests hunkered down in the shadow
of Old Chief Mountain’s shrug, allowing the seasons to have its way with me;
submerged by plow and rake, uncurled myself to sprout again and again
and there were those that marveled at the way a small flower could find its way
to fill the meadow and crawl between things and bloom with colored smiles.
I knew the feel of stone underneath, that held me high enough to peer
across the flat lap of land that I would eventually crawl from.

Sun, dancing in the wind, smiled warm and with held warmth for seasons
while I was lost in weeds and gardens beneath the towering giants
that stood guard like matronly spinsters and disagreeable old men
waiting for me to give up my bounties in harvest and be transported
to places where my grievances would not be seen.  I left in quick moves
catching the nearest breeze carrying seedlings of my hope in a tumbleweed
track across the furrows to be caught again and again in barbed wire boundaries
in someone else’s yellowed harvest.  Clinging to fence posts, like they were home,
I was aware of successful crops that seemed to hold their ground better than I.

Oh, but I knew you were there, nature painted you for me, time and again,
when I was dwarfed by tall grasses, hemmed in by graying stone,
flung like cottonwood fluff, to catch the nearest wind to another place to search.
I have landed, tenuously, on forest floors and reeled through ridges and peaks
simply to get to some highest point where I could see it all; and perhaps, you,
bursting life from the middle of  pie-wedged province, joggling against the corrals
in frantic need to feel the freedom in a stampede.  Combine dust and fresh cut hay
promised a better bounty but hid you from my view.  Highways snaked north from south,
east from west; through the sudden drop of river valleys that had carved so many trails
for me to follow home.  Memories stored in granaries and floating down the streamlets
carried dreams of  you to me; those remembrances, cut at the shaft from home,
sent clacking on railroad ties to far away places; sticks of belief, stroking
in river’s rush down and out from the mountains to flood the prairie’s garden.

It is thanks to be given that you rode the many gray horses; clouds, like smoke signals,
that would carry my scent back to you.  Come my brothers; come my sisters, lead me
back to the arms of the mother from whence we were torn.  Earth’s garden’s
have been used and abused by seasons of scripted sadness.  It is time for rejoicing.
We gather our gifts from the four corners of the globe and lay our feast of family
out on the security of a blanket where we shall picnic and speak, softly, of our travails
and travels back to each other.  Let us hold each other for this final fine feast
that will last lifetimes for each of us.  We can come to the hem of the country,
attaching to the apron of the woman who has waited for our return forever.

Tags: Journal Blog, Poems by Shewolf
No Comments »

We speak of love and some loves not being enough, and it is true.  It simply isn’t the same.  It is wonderful and fulfilling if we had love, but it never takes the place of that love we wanted.  We have found ways to make something of ourselves and our love in spite of that.

I have been thinking a great deal about it since we talked.  I have wept for that little girl who was my big sister.  I want you to know; perhaps my “Janine” (my invisible friend when I was little)was you.  She was, as you will read, my invisible saving grace. 

I have loved you all my life, whether I knew about you or not.  Keep breathing, sister, dear, I am never letting you go. 

Tags: Journal Blog by Shewolf
No Comments »

Our mother’s story is so very much like mine in many ways.  I believe I may have had more of a support system through my adoptive parents and those you will meet in my chapter  called “Sharing the Journey.”

I can not imagine her heartache with the children.  I managed to keep mine and take others.  But, you will read two went to live with their father.  I thought that was heartbreak.  I can not imagine. 

That drive for love can take us many places and sometimes we drag our children along with us. 
I am glad we do not have to say “half-siblings”.  The first family’s children in the family I grew up in did not call my brother and I there sibling.  We were “Norm’s kids”. 

Tags: Journal Blog by Shewolf
No Comments »