Thought storage post

Disclaimer: 'kay, this post sums things up for me and offers a kind of "introduction" to my blog. I am working to make sure it stays in the top spot of my homepage but if it doesn't, sorry and you need to go look for it.



6.09.2008

Some things remain the same

I sit quietly next to you as you sleep, your hand grasped securely in mine. A sense of peace fills the room. I know it comes from you. Regardless of circumstances (or level of consciousness apparently) you have always provided comfort. You still do.

I cringe as I hear the door slam. Maybe, just maybe you’ll continue to sleep.

Moving your head slightly I can see your eyelids begin to flutter. Leaving blissful slumber behind your eyes open…then quickly close. I rise to pull the blinds. You like sunlight, just not that much.

Sitting up in bed and running a hand through your hair you begin to look around, trying to get your bearings. “Hi. What time is it?” I smile as your eyes find mine.

“It’s 6 o’clock.”
“PM?” you ask incredulously. I know your ire isn’t directed at me but rather at circumstances beyond your control.

Or mine.

“Yes,” I simply state.

As you look around for your glasses (you swear I move them around when you sleep – sometimes I do) I can see the frustration in your face, your exaggerated movements a testimony to your anger. And fear.

Locating your glasses, you slowly begin to rise out of the bed. “Here, let me help you,” I offer while quickly grabbing you right arm. Your balance is off… you’re weaker. I hold my breath as the anger fills your eyes. I breathe again as it leaves.

You simply nod your head as your left hand gently covers mine. I welcome your touch… this shared moment between us. Just us.

I see the toll the few steps from bed to chair takes on your fragile body. You fiercely battle the fatigue, determined to participate in life. The battle is decided as your eyes close. The war is not.

I place the blanket over your body and remove your glasses. The chair is a place of rest…for now.

I watch your fierce determination slowly ebb away. Finally, your body relaxes and accepts the gift of sleep. I know the warrior will surface and fight again.

I chuckle as I am reminded of the last time I encountered your warrior. Excuse me, Klingon warrior you so eloquently informed me that fateful day.

As I entered the house that evening, I could hear the unmistakable sounds of things crashing into things. Finding the source of the disturbance quickly became a priority! Standing in the doorway, I witnessed what can only be described as a full-blown tantrum of titanic proportions complete with flying objects and an exhaustive litany of objectionable (to me and most people) phrases. From the looks of things it was obvious this had been in force for quite some time. Oh yeah, quite some time.

Calling your name did not appear to quell the fury. Finally, using great care to duck flying objects, I grabbed your shoulders and spun you around. The tantrum ended abruptly as my eyes locked onto yours. I could see the anger simmering below the surface, knew you were working hard to keep your temper under control. We both knew what would happen if you failed.

“What is going on here?” My voice remained calm…your anger just waiting for a spark.

I kept my hands on your shoulders hoping this contact would drain some of your fury. It had in the past. We’ve been here before…me, you and your temper.

You continued to breathe rapidly, eyes ablaze with defiance, refusing or unable (I wasn’t sure which) to answer my question. I clearly remember your bright red face and clenched fists.

Giving your shoulders a shake, I repeated the question with a little more “oomph”. The “oomph” worked.

“Nothing, it’s nothing all right. Just leave me alone.”

Okay, the “oomph” hadn’t quite accomplished all I had hoped but it was a start. Anger quickly flooded my body as my eyes bored into yours. No, I had no intention of leaving you alone. At least not today.

You held my gaze longer than I expected. As your head slumped and muscles relaxed slightly I quickly guided you to the chair. “What is going on?” I growled. You remained silent with downcast eyes and clenched fists. This wasn’t going well.

Reaching down, I firmly but gently raised your chin. “What is going on little one?” That phrase- little one - illustrated the true nature of your position…and mine.

“I don’t know, okay!! I don’t know what it wrong with me! And neither do you or the doctors or ANYBODY!” you spat out through clenched teeth, defying me to challenge you.

I suspected that was behind this display. The nameless, faceless beast attacking your body. You’ve been at war for a long time now. The beast had won some battles recently but you were winning the war…for now.

The need for some control…that’s where this anger lived…with fear.

You told me what you needed by your challenge. I knew you were challenging your body…the mystery…God.

And me.

Meeting that challenge was my responsibility…part of loving you.

With practiced ease I switched places with you in the chair and placed you prone over my lap. “Let me go!! You can’t do this!” The defiance still burned in your eyes…confidence, well, not so much.

“Really...” was my reply as I brought my hand down across your bum. I continued to smack your bottom for several minutes alternating between cheeks. I clearly remember your clenched fists and fierce refusal to acknowledge the fire being ignited in your hindquarters.

Then it happened – a chink in your armor. Your legs twitched and hands pounded the floor in tandem with the smacks assaulting your bottom. You still refused to let go.

I refused to let you go. I always have and always will.

Flipping your nightgown up and lowering your panties, I reached for the hairbrush. Your bottom was a bright pink and definitely warm. It would be boiling before we were through…it needed to be.

SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. “Your behavior, SMACK, SMACK, is unacceptable. SMACK, SMACK, You will not, SMACK, SMACK, throw, SMACK, a, SMACK, temper tantrum, SMACK, again!!SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. I don’t care, SMACK, if you’re, SMACK, SMACK sick or not! SMACK, That is no excuse! SMACK, SMACK.

Tears silently rolled down your face as you struggled to hold on…hold on to the control…control you really didn’t have…but desperately craved.

I continued to rain smacks down ensuring no area of your posterior was left unattended. After a dozen swats it happened...you let go. You let go of the control and submitted to mine…the moment when trust replaced fear.

I switched back to my hand as I continued to apply light spanks liberally spaced apart. Eventually tears replaced sobs as the spanking drew to a close.

Gently I rubbed your back and bottom until the tears were but a slow trickle. I helped you up and tenderly placed you on my lap. Initially you resisted. “Hush now” quelled the rebellion. I was going to hold you on my lap, simple as that.

Wrapped in my embrace, I rocked you back and forth whispering those universal words of comfort….I love you. Everything’s okay. I’m right here with you. I’m not going anywhere.

Gradually, your breathing relaxed and I noticed your eyes close. Your grip on my arm slowly eased as you nestled into my chest. I looked at your face and was filled with relief. The battle was over and we had both won. I prayed we would win the war.

The chime of the clock snaps me back to the present.

“Momma?” I smile as I cover your hand with mine. I switch places with you in the chair placing you on my lap. You don’t resist this time.

“Yes baby. Momma’s here.” I gently rub my fingers through your hair.
I see you look into my eyes…waiting yet fearing the answer to your question.

“Shhh, everything is okay. It’s just the flu honey. That’s all. A bad case of the flu.” I watch you exhale the breath you had been holding. The doctor had watched me do the same earlier in the day.

“Where are the kids?” Your childlike demeanor is quickly replaced with a mother’s concern.

“Baby, the only kid here is mine. Your sister is watching Jack and Timmy tonight.”

Amazing, I care for my child the same way she cares for hers. Some things remain the same regardless of age.

Snuggling closer, I feel you drift off to sleep…a peaceful sleep this time.

The flu. What a relief to have a name for the beast this time.

The flu...it’s just the flu.

My little warrior is winning the war.

4 comments:

Lil Bit said...

OMG, dg, I'm speechless!

This piece is so eloquently written & beautiful!!!

Damn, way to make somebody want to be your lil girl. LOL! ;)

Truly enjoy your writing.

dangergirl said...

Thanks lb - the muse was feeling a tad nagsty that day - must have been a Monday !!

will69b said...

Really nice.
:)
`x~Will

dangergirl said...

Thanks Will...the muse is smiling:)

dg