Words said,and unsaid.
I was raised with words. My Parents are very cultured people. Foreign languages,music,literature.
My father’s a writer,among other things.
He’s made most of his living with words one way or another.
Guess I caught the bug at some point young. I wrote about everything,on anything. Scratch paper,notebooks,you name it. I’ve had some poetry published,won an award once,co-wrote a few songs,nothing big but satisfying.
When my kids Mom woke me up one morning to tell me she was pregnant w/our daughter the wheels started turning and I started writing again on the computer. I’d write to my unborn daughter,thoughts,ideas,poems,silly stuff. Things that were bothering me,fears,joys just things to let her know I cared. That I loved her.
Words,said and unsaid.
I never not wanted her to know about me,or who I thought I was at those times.
Life wasn’t always easy,I struggled w/things- substance abuse,a spiritual malady,but I never not loved my children,even then in the darkness and confusion.
I loved words,the feeling of them on my tongue,how my fingers felt when they typed,learning new ones..
Sharing words with my kids.
I wrote about my past,my losses,my adventures,revealing things. Not meant for children,but perhaps life lessons later on if these manuscripts were ever happened upon.
I even journaled quite a bit in long form.
Slipping further away from their Mom who never shared the same love of words.
Then on Valentines Day when our son was 6months old,she told me she was filing for divorce and it was time to start packing.the first thing she wanted packed up was the computer/my computer.
I was stuck with words. Words said and unsaid.
As my life became more unmanageable and I slipped further down the slippery slope of self pity and despair I never looked at that computer,in pieces,untouched.
Until a day came when I noticed words on a small pink post-it note,”Property of Rees CF Police Department-for review”.
Oddly enough I thought it was coincidence. Not so…
See,she had taken my hard drive to work at the police station to read,extract and supply data at the divorce proceedings.
Words unsaid,my words,my thoughts my love in sharing with my kids one day.
All the words that pored out of me in abandon used in malice.
I stopped writing and disconnected from the joy and splice it once provided me.
Stuck with words both said and unsaid.
Words said,and unsaid.