I keep thinking about burdens. The stuff we carry on our backs and in our hearts. How we pass the burden on to the next generation for them to hold onto.
My shoulders hurt way too much these days. I carry my burden there. The load keeps me up at night. At 3 in the morning I am inspired my brain ticking along with the clock, twisting and turning.
This week I found myself yelling at the girls, "No". Maya stiffens her body, bangs her head into me, crys out. How do I let her know she should not throw her food on the ground? It is not safe to go into the computer area with all those wires, "no".
All she hears is yelling, my tone of voice, and she sees the look on my face and thinks...bad (or so I imagine). I do not want to give yelling to my daughters. In front of them I yell when I am mad. Mad means anger. I have had enough with anger. Anger stews and festers. Anger is in my blood. It is exhausting.
What I must do is talk. Tell Maya it is dangerous to go in the computer area. I love her and do not want her to get hurt. One day she will get it.
Yesterday the girls were in their fort. I joined them. It is safe in there. The light reflects through the holes on the roof. The fort protects. It is private. I like it and understand the need to hide, but I do not want them to have that need. I do not want them to understand, go inside.
What it comes down to is pain. The need to protect. I must protect them from me. I must let the burdens go. They will not be passed on. All of it ends here, with me.
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