by G E Barr

Created on: February 08, 2009

THE BLEEDING OF MY HEART

Today, as I walked around the rather large park in the community where I live, my son, Zack and his friend, Michael accompanying me, as well as the big weimerreiner and the chihuahua, I enjoyed the unseasonably warm weather. It was such a refreshing day. The boys kept me laughing. Michael threw a rubber chicken across the bridge and unwittingly at a woman who was walking toward us. The woman ducked and laughed. Whew.

This evening, as the boys draw in Zack's room, I hear them chatting and I hear the shuffling of paper. I recall myself at Zack's age. I wasn't carefree. I was overburdened. He, for the most part is carefree. I think that is as it should be. His mind is on geometry, boy's novels, geography and other academics through the week. On the weekend, he's free. He has a long distance girl friend. I like her. She's funny, spunky and very intelligent. And he has his friend, Michael.

All is well for Zack.

I was not so fortunate at Zack's age and he knows this. I often speak with him concerning many facets of life. He's hip in alot of ways, but he does not concern himself with issues of the world. What can he do? Nothing. He often reads the newspaper when I am finished with it and his comments are usually, "God, that's wierd...Mom, did you read this?!"

"It's what doesn't make it to the newspaper that's wierd." I tell him. He knows what I mean.

Zack is intellectually and socially aware. But he doesn't worry. I, on the hand, worry. I worried when I was very young. Perhaps it is the fact that I am female. Or maybe it's that I saw more sad things and was never really freed from the intellectual oppression. I once worried myself to mental illness.

Zack is free. The boy who came to me unsure and so absorbed with video games and television shows, the boy detached, no longer is. Zack is finding himself and his interests are broadening. He fully understands that his initiative and participation is necessary for his success.

This is what I hope for Ahna-Ahna, my granddaughter, that she too will be free. Free to think for herself. And free from abuses.

Coping with life it seems, always gives the choice of jumping in, which may mean a fight or ignoring everything. Ahna-Ahna's mother finally has a good job and is making good money for this part of the world. I'm glad she loves her little girl. But Ahna-Ahna's mother is young. She's only nineteen.

This was not the situation that I'd hoped for my daughter, but I have to cope with it.

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