Sunday, December 18, 2011

Palm Reader

 Do you see that line?

What line? I whispered in awe. In that moment she was silk scarfs, and mist. Her knowledge was greater then her years and she knew the future. Or so I thought.

Right here. She traced the line with her fingernail, chipped red paint on the bed. She dug in a little for emphasis. I could see the dirt in the corners, we had been playing outside all day.

You see how long it is, your line, that means you will have lots of babies. Your going to be a Mom to a lot of kids. She giggled at the idea of it all.

We found hiding spots in distorted tree branches, old limbs long forgotten hanging low to the ground. Flowers became our dolls bouquets and we dreamed big dreams of tomorrow. Life was a fairytale in those moments.

My Mother was a Gypsy. We roamed with our beds upon our backs. Well not literally, we just moved a lot. About every six months, my Mother would have us start packing up and we would be sleeping in a new room before sundown. I was accustomed to this life. I knew how to find my imagination in those humble abodes. I remember finding many places to carry out my acts of fantasy. My brothers and I built forts out of tables, old beds. Some places we lived had large yards, trees to climb, castles of rocks to build. One home had an old shed, that became our hiding spot. We never lacked for things to do.

I remember finding the beauty in the little things in each of those homes. Wood floors that shined when the sun came in. Large windows that looked out upon the grass. Some homes had big bathtubs where you could lose yourself in the dreams of the sea. I shared a room with my brothers, sometimes I shared a room with my Mom. A few times, I had a spot of my own. I didn't mind, well maybe a little.

When I met my husband he never spoke to me of a desire to travel. It took a few years before I discovered that he would follow me on my path to new adventures. I had dreams of us living everywhere. I wanted to learn new cultures, see new sights. We have managed to do this to an extent. We have lived in new places, seen the ocean, the mountains, the snow, the dessert. Our children have seen Yellowstone in all its glory and have expereinced new places.

When I was first pregnant with Breadon, we had started the process of really settling down. The kids loved their school, we loved our home, we were happy in our community. But we were 29 hours from our family and my feet were starting to itch. I whispered the notion in my husband's ear, maybe we needed to move closer to home. Family was too far away.

Things happened so quickly. A job transfer was offered and we would be only 10 hours from our hometown. Much better than 29 hours. So I got ready to move. I painted, I scrubbed, I worked on my hands and knees. I packed boxes and prepared our lifes for this new adventure. In all of this Braedon, happily moved along. He kicked me all day long, I think startled by the constant movements of my body.

My husband wants to move, he hates it here. All he sees is bad memories. He thinks this place has brought us bad luck.

I finally lost my urge to move. My Mother's Gypsy blood has poured from my body. I want to settle. Stay in one place. I want my kids to have adventures in our backyard only. They can explore the world when they are adults. We are ebbing and flowing, the tide is moving in two directions.

I tell him, you just don't understand. He doesn't. I painted, I was on my hands and knees, I scrubbed floors. I carried boxes that were probably too heavy. How can I not wonder? How can I not blame myself. In my desire to move, I missed my last appointment. I was busy and he was kicking. The doctor was going to check everything out and make sure I was safe. Maybe he would have done an ultrasound. Maybe I would have been able to save him.

I have no more imagination, I can't find a home like this anymore. My blood poured from my body and I want to roam no more.


  1. We had plans to move - out of our lovely little London apartment to suburbia... somewhere child friendly, with green open spaces and good local schools. When Seamus died, all those plans ground to a halt. I don't want to plan anything anymore. If you don't plan, then those dreams can't get dashed. Standing still feels safer.

  2. Paula, this is lovely. I can sense the magic and the fantasy of your childhood adventure, and I can relate to the desire to be closer to home and closer to family. Just closer. We've been talking about moving from this house. Our conversation started when I got pregnant with Nathaniel and we simply didn't have a place to put him. We house hunted and fought through the pregnancy, and settled on not moving and just keeping Nathaniel in our bedroom for a couple of years and then deal with the space issue later.

    Now, after Nathaniel, we're talking about moving to a farm. There is a part of me enchanted by the possibility of keeping bees, but there is a bigger part of me just doesn't care. . .I'm fine to move. I can sit and they can move me while I just hold still.

  3. That's a lovely description of roaming with your mother. I'm glad that you found the joy and quirks in each place you stayed. It must have been a difficult life in some ways, a fantastic and exciting one in others.

    I can understand both points of view I think. I remember strongly feeling that the house was cursed, we'd lived in our current home for just over a year when the twins were born. I remember thinking that, if only we had chosen a different home to buy, none of this would have happened. Although I know that is completely nonsensical. But I wanted to move away from the place that I, like your husband, believed had brought me bad luck.

    Part of me wanted to stay because this house is where she lived, one of the only places she will ever have lived in apart from hospital and the inside of an ambulance. And I've lost my taste for adventure and roaming. I just want to stay still and quiet and hope that life ignores me for a while, enough excitement.

    I know that I could say these words forever and it probably wouldn't change the way that you feel but I have to say them. Please don't blame yourself. You wouldn't have wished this for Braedon, you were trying to make a lovely home for him. It wasn't your fault xo

  4. You have me right there, where you were as you were growing up. You describe it all so well.
    The guilt is natural. We all question every single thing we did, decisions we made. But, like Catherine said, you never wished this for Braedon. It's not your fault. You love him more than life itself.
    I always had a 5 year plan for this house, now we've been here over 10. We were going to have to get a bigger place eventually, with 6 people crammed in here, something had to give. I guess now that we're back to 5, we'll stay put. And, now I can't bare the thought of leaving after planting the magnolia on his first birthday. I couln't leave that. Much love and light to you and I wish for the self doubt to abate for you. Missing Braedon with you. x

  5. We all blame ourselves, I moved cross counrty when I was pregnant at 7 months - we drove for three days , I packed and unpacked boxes and carried things as well. After Jack we did move and its funny cause I want to move again already. Its like we are trying to find a happier new beginning somewhere.Nothing feels like home anymore. Whatever you decide -good luck. Thinking of Braedon.xo

  6. Nothing feels right anymore no. I go back and wonder about the what if's, what if I didn't go on that trip to Mexico when I was 15 weeks pregnant, what if I stopped exercising, what if I rested more, what if...
    Paula you write so very beautifully, I love how you describe your childhood, it sounds like a beautiful adventure. Our worlds are not the same anymore though.. I can understand your wanting to stay in one place.
    Thinking of you and your Braedon.

  7. I think every one of you got me here. Yes, that is it. I want to stand still and quiet. To let crazy pass me by and to avoid big changes, the potential for more heartbreak. Maybe if I hold my breath a little longer nothing bad will happen.

    We are here for now and hopefully when the time comes to make the final decision to move, I will be able to make the choice better.

    I know I would never have done anything to hurt Braedon but it is so hard not to think of all that I did do that I shouldn't have done. I was naive in my belief that all would be fine. Now I just don't want to think that all will be fine. I will just have to wait to see what tomorrow brings.