Tuesday, May 24, 2011
At long last, we have come to summer. First leaf was just a week ago, and now the valley is green, the sun burrowing, and the precious light inescapable.
As the mother of Keet, it is hard to separate his story from my own. It has been the craziest year since 2007 for me personally. My time away from my son, the love of my life, impacts us both. Months have run together with hardly a moment to reflect, only glimpses in which to appreciate the preciousness of the passing moment - so fleeting, and too few for the love that I hold to be proven.
Keet has a beautiful phrase when there is something that he wants but doesn't have he says sadly,
"But my hands are empty." Indeed my love. Each day it is so as we are apart.
Da-ka and I are blessed to have Keet in the care of Sommer, who loves him and cares for him. As I left for work this morning, I mourned, as I do every morning, that his time is not our time. That my time is more "important" in other affairs. And yet. It is so. The conflict so deeply embedded in my soul that I will never know what may have been had I taken the time to raise my own son. What would it have been like to have allowed my days to rotate around him as my heart rotates around his light?
My postfeminist accomplishments will always be tinged with regret, and a bit of betrayal. We can do it all, but should we try? That is the question.