Hindsight

Sometimes writing is my therapy.



Hindsight

I chose my favorite form today.  That of a young girl, probably about 7 years old.  Long, dark hair, thick fringe in the front, and large, doe eyes.  These weren't real, per se, but visuals I chose for the space between here and there.

I gazed down with my senses.  My mother was weeping.  It made me hurt, if I had a real body it would be heartache.

"I hated leaving her.  She's been through too much."

A tall figure approached me.

"She agreed to go through it.  A long time ago, she said that one of her intentions was to experience intense great loss, time and again so that she could really, truly experience grief."

I looked up at him.  He looked like a FBI agent.  Silvery hair, dark glasses, light gray suit, the weird earpiece.  What was the earpiece for?  I guess when we're here we choose what suits us. I have black patent Mary Jane's. He has an earpiece.

"Why?"

"It's the human experience, Aine." (it sounds like Ahn-Yuh).

I tweaked my mouth to the side in consternation.

"Did she know what it would do to her?"

He replied, "In theory.  But you can express some pretty terrible scenarios, but the further away you are from it before hand the easier it sounds.  How often do people decide they will finish the whole pint of ice cream completely knowing that they'll suffer afterwards saying they will deal with it when it comes?  They aren't currently experiencing the pain, and even if they had done it before, it's such a faint memory that it seems like maybe it's worth it.  Hindsight."

I furrowed my brow, "How can you compare ice cream with a belly ache afterwards to feeling intense connection to someone only to have them ripped away and the hole they leave behind?"

He shrugged, "Nothing is *really* comparable.  Nice shoes that end up giving you blisters.  Staring up at the stars then getting a neck ache from it.  Good parts, hard parts.  Each different.  But yeah, it sucks."

I breathed a deep sigh.  "Yeah."

He took a few steps closer until he was standing by my side.

"So why'd you agree to it?"

I chuffed and shook my head just a touch.  "My own lack of foresight.  Like you said, it sounded easier before it happened."

He frowned a little, but not without compassion.

"Did you get what you were supposed to from it?"

I took a slow, deep breath.  "I think so."

"You've been down there before, right?"  I nodded.  "What was so different this time?"

"I don't like to think about it.  There was so much potential this time.  So many dreams of incredible experiences.  So many intentions without expectations.  I mean, her expectations have gone down a bit.  That's not necessarily a bad thing.  Fewer attachments.  It's hard to explain.  She had these open ended dreams.  She dreamed of introducing me to to the world and guiding me through it."  I blinked back imaginary tears.  I looked up at him, "So many times before; pretty much all the times before, their intentions... so very different.  Often they wanted just to reparent.  They wanted to fix the shit storm that came before.  They wanted to love me in a way to receive love themselves, not really to see my inner being.  Sometimes, they wanted me to save their marriage.  There were one or two who cursed my existence from the onset of knowledge that I was there."

He looked down to me, he took of the dark glasses. His pale blue eyes shone.  "And she didn't want those things?"

I shook my head again, this time with more certainty, "No, she mostly just wanted to love me.  And she wanted her partner to feel the kind of love that children give their parents.  By all means, she had her own things to heal.  She wanted me to be seen in ways she was not.  She wanted to make sure I felt valued for existing, not needing to be anything more than that.  Just there."  I looked away again, "She's still human, though.  She dreamed of holding me, nursing me, rocking me, baby sighs and cute clothes.  But it was icing for her.  She wanted to guide me the way she wants to guide the one who was to be my brother.  And the way she wants to guide nearly everyone she connects with."

He cut in, "Tell me about the others.  The brother.  The father."

"The dad, he was so hurt.  I wanted to stay for him, just as much for her.  She may have taken it personally, but nowhere near as much as he did.  It tapped into his programming from his mother.  It screamed like a giant neon sign, 'failure'.  He took on so much blame.  None of it should have been his own.  He inherited his mother's damage.  He wanted to give the love he didn't receive.  Somewhere, deep inside, he has a spark of hope that he deserves it.  He does, of course, but it's still up in the air if he'll ever truly, fully believe it."

"Only he can decide that."

I continued, "Right.  I hope he does."  Deep breath. "The brother, he would have just been fun.  He's an awesome guy and pretty hilarious.  They're lucky to have him."

"They know it, too."

I smirked, "Yeah."  Pause.  "I'm glad they do."

The amusement faded.  I looked back down at her.  Her tears subsided by then.  She just looked spent.  She was weary.  My frown returned.  "Someone needs to step in.  She can't keep doing this.  She's becoming fragmented."

His expression was one of compassion.  I just wasn't sure if it was compassion towards me or towards the woman.  "Just for now.  Remember, the cracks let the light in.  The bigger the cracks, the more that can come in.  She's set herself up to have support.  Many souls are keeping an eye out for her."

This only eased my mind a little, "Yeah, but in the end she has to decide."

Staring out he raised one eyebrow, "Decide?  What does she have to decide?"

"To live."

This stabbed at my heart. "Do you think she will?"

"I think there's a good chance." He chuckled. "She *is* a stubborn one."

I smiled feebly, but not without humor, "Yeah, she is."  I looked back up at him.  He smirked.

"I just wish I could have spared her."

More deep breaths, "Me too, Aine. Me too."

He turned and walked away, slowly retreating into the shadows, the soles of his somewhat make-believe shoes echoing on the floor.

I spoke in my normal voice, knowing that in this place I needn't yell.  "What can I do for her now?"

"Send her love.  Look out for her."

I looked around, slightly out of this dimension I felt others.  Others that love her.  Ancestors.  Guides.  Angelic beings.  People from her past, friends, acquaintances.... and babies.  Many babies.  Her children.  Children, like me.  We are those who were loved by her in that world.  Even if it was just for a moment.  Even if, to her knowledge, it was only as an idea.  Some never even reached that world.

They existed as only her intent.  Promises she made out into the ether.  The promise of unconditional love.  The promise of honest love.  The promise of messy love, the kind that someone who really understands her humanness can give.  Her beautifully flawed self.  She gave each one of us everything.  Even when she tried she couldn't bring herself to hold back.  And through everything she'd do it all over again if given the chance.  Hindsight be damned.

He was right.  She was a stubborn one.