I awoke this morning to a fireball of a sunrise. My bedroom was awash in a red glow. It was beautiful, even if it might mean that the weather today may bring more than a few surprises. I am glad I was too tired to post this blog last night. Back in bed, drinking my first cup of Earl Grey tea, I marvel at how minute by minute a day can change.
FRACTURED
Definition of ‘Fractured’—having a crack or break (as in a bone or rock). Damaged or destroyed (as in a friendship).
Imperfectly spoken (as in language).
Splintered or split.
My life as a young child was fractured. First, as an unborn with an amnihook, leaving a pyramid of scar tissue on my skull. Secondly, as a nine-month-old, separated from my birth mother. However, I felt cherished during my formative years. Years later, I was separated again from those who raised me and I loved. My grandparents, although I knew them only as Mummy and Daddy then.
I learned to fill my days with activity to prevent feeling fractured. I wrote maudlin poetry and then had it all stolen. Whoever thought, back then, there would come a time when one could talk to a qualified person about your feelings. I bottled them instead. I thought love and marriage would heal the fractures. It didn’t. I only collected more wounds. More scar tissue, mainly emotional.
A friend once told me that when we hurt ourselves, we put a band-aid over the wound. In emotional fractures, we place metaphorical band-aids, one on top of another. The scar tissue builds, and when we try to rip off the accumulated band-aids, it is so painful that we try not to do it.
What interests me most is the third definition. I find that my life at present, is splintered or split into many pieces throughout the day. Daisy, my precious elderly dog, whom I wouldn’t be without, keeps me close to home. In a couple of hours during the day, while she is asleep, I rush around, visiting friends, volunteering, shopping, cleaning etc. Trying not to do more than three different things in a day. By the end of the day, I am exhausted. It is harder to manage my splintered and divided day than when I worked, sometimes as much as ten hours a day, at least six days a week, landscaping. It was hard physical work, but I enjoyed the concentrated dedication.
During the first few years of my working life, I had a nine-to-five type of job. It was sometimes monotonous, and in the beginning, I threw myself into many external activities to use my excess energy. Overall, it had a kind of peace and stability I enjoyed.
After marriage and children, I found my mind fragmented, pulled into many directions simultaneously. It gave me strength and purpose. I felt that if I could juggle many balls at the same time, I could survive any pain. If I could work hard and achieve what I set out to do, even if wasn’t always what in my heart I really wanted to do, at least in the eyes of those around me I was an achiever.
Forty-plus years ago, recently divorced, living in an unfinished Edwardian house in Hackney, London, with my three children, two students, two cats, two rabbits, and a dog, I wrote a poem about a particular day in my life at the time.
ALL IN A DAY
What–a–to–do!
Let’s laugh amidst the tears.
Incessant dripping hurts my ears,
the cold water storage tanks
overflows.
The day begins:
My washing machine fails.
The floor grins murky and grey.
My blackened hands
dial the phone,
“The plumber, please.”
He swiftly spoke his mind,
“That’ll cost yer,
sixty pounds, luv—
Cash mind.”
“How long?” I queried.
“Twenty minutes should see me through,
I’ll nip and get me tools.”
The children are home.
“What’s for tea?”
“Can I watch TV?”
“Oh, Mum! Yes,
We had a good day.”
My nerves are raw,
I’ve been waiting an hour,
or maybe more,
to cut the backdoor bolt.
Ah, finally!
The locksmith is here,
He charges a score!
But it’s quid pro quo,
The dog can finally go.
Alone and quiet,
the children asleep,
my dust-stained pain dissolves with a
warm nightcap and leaves a smile.
* * **
As always, I look forwards to receiving likes and comments on my piece. Have a wonderful day wherever you are in the world. May today be better than yesterday.
EJP