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Writer's pictureDahnelle Dior

GRAPE JUICE

And there she goes… my Mother that is. Just as the plot thickens and you start to leaf through your shiny new purple binder. The leaving happens. Always for a good reason. You see jesus whispered in her ear…jesus not JESUS. And just like a shady boyfriend before Valentines Day her timing is impeccable. I used to wonder “WHY!!!??” as I stood on the opposite side of another door she had slammed. I used to touch my hand to it and still feel the motion in the wood and wonder why, right before the tears fell. But I was determined that this time would be different. I gave myself 24 hours to really feel it. The sear of it the sting of it. It was the day after a not so good doctors visit. So I steadied myself on the wall as I slid into a sad sorry heap. My beloved is rage in motion. We are here AGAIN!!! WT*&%!!! But one look at my crumpled face and he tucks his anger into his back pocket and pulls me close. I used my call a friend and a sister and another sister option.



I then got up and saw to dinner.

I understand now how the messiness pushes her away. The whats next and what will they need and the how much will it take. Leaves her running for the hills. The hills where she sits with her jesus as they put on robes and mutter about me and my unworthiness. Her jesus looks bored in my imaginings he’s heard it all before…and only wonders why she returns for more abuse from this progeny of hers.

I wanted to say…but Mommy “I only got a touch you won’t be needed much”…but the wind catches my words and I watch them float by as I sit 47min and 55 seconds and listen as she empties herself of the vastness of my shortcomings. What on earth happened you say? Oh she saw a Buddha on my website. A tiny smiling one. Blink blink stare. To her this symbolizes a Christian who has wandered far from their cross. Cancer she says…is the least of my worries. Since when? I wanted to say. As I eye my large fountain Buddha of 10 years in my backyard. Since when? But purple catches in the sunlight and all I can think instead is how very convenient. I listen and hear of the sad state of my after life with all of its burning heat. I am tainted and she really cannot stay she says…for the truly faithful are called away. Are they needed over there? Somewhere, more than here? With me and my binder? I listen and try not to step in the dogma goo. It burns if you touch it you know. It is catching and can cause emotional complications. You might start to cough out your agreement. Or sneeze with the ways she might have a point. In the end you will be feverish with the “It’s me and not her” fever and well if that takes hold only God herself can help you. People die from this brand of goo. The wanting of an embrace or a soothing kind word from a mother or a father that will never come. They wither away from the hunger and thirst of it all an apology or approval. The need of some unconditional love. It will rob you of your life force…

But for me I will make grape juice

As I sat and listened I prayed to GOD. You know, the ONE who made the solar systems and the manta rays, the red woods and the carpenter ants. The ONE who flung Jupiter, Venus and Mars into space and still had time to craft a hummingbird and an orchid and yes even me. As I breathed deep and let the tears silently fall for those 47 minutes and 55 seconds I decided no defense was needed. I was perfect and she was not right about me.

Not now and not ever.

My enough ness you see is my primary focus as I see my Oncologist. He is there to address the body I am here to address the soul. I know as I breath in the forgetting gas and fall into a deep sleep as they open me up. I know that the part that they take is just a part of me that was bit confused. A part not quit loved right. I let it go as a lover who’s parting is immanent after an infraction that is complete. It is ok to let that part go so that what is left behind can thrive and grow.

I am declaring this thriving this enough-ness, this whole-ness with my words and my deeds and my clothes and my hair and my eyes…my large almond eyes. I shout it with my throaty laugh and the spirit filled way I mother my children and try to be there for those in need. I flaunt it in the way I force myself to respectfully listen to those who differ from me for that I think is where it is so greatly needed. I think it’s called being like God and to me God is Love and it is something I strive to be.

I have decided that I am saved… always by grace.

That I am whole I am worthwhile I am me and that is enough.

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