....long periods of not writing and it sucks. But there's just too much going on. And not enough money to do it with.
The new school year is approaching. I'm still trying to get a handle on my Sun's violin program and how to help it live another day. I'm fed up with people and their issues and halftruths and personal agendas. I'm worried for my sister, who's honesty and integrity prevents her from worming her way into a new job. I worry for her, not because I think she'll struggle, but because she continually believes she'll fail. When she's usually the one who survives. She's not $80,000 (at least) in serious debt... and yet she's as stressed as I am. My hair is even greyer now than it was in the spring.
I've spent the summer getting to know BigMan's boy, and despite occasional 16-year-old-isms, I rather like him. He's hard to know, but I like him.
And my Sun amazes me. He's just about taller than me. His voice is deeper every day. He's hairier every day. He started teaching a younger kid violin, and is getting paid for it. At first he didn't think he could do it. His first lesson went well but he was unfazed. But this week, his second week, I detected pride in his eyes when he spoke of his student. The kid had a perfect bow-hold he said, and had remembered what the Sun taught him. It made me so proud of my bigboy.
I'm still getting along with the ParentingPartner. Our child support agreement is completely fucked up and not what we agreed to in court, and so I'm forced to ask him for money on a fairly regular basis. And he gives it. I guess all he ever wanted was to take care of us.
And last but not least, the BigMan. What a revelation. He is one odd duck... random mumblings (if you ever REALLY wanted to know what men think about, just hang out with him for a while and listen... he'll tell you. And it's just strange and random and sordid.) and a strange sense of humor. But I love him. I told him the other day I wish I'd met him much earlier in my life, but in the same breath I wondered if we would have appreciated each other back then. It took pain and hardship and mistakes for us to appreciate and value the love we've found.
We talk all the time. Sitting at the kitchen table, or laying across the bed, or walking to the bank, the post office, the supermarket. About everything. About life. Friends. Hopes, dreams, art. Photography. Our kids. A baby.
I'm beginning to sense he really wants to try. And I do too, would already start trying if it weren't for the fact that I owe so much back rent I keep waiting for the Marshal. I can't do it now, and I'm afraid that by the time I can I'll be too old. Last doctor visit when I asked, the OB I've been going to for years said it's highly unlikely for 45 year old women to get pregnant. I can't say that I think that's correct... but I do know the longer I wait the slimmer my chances. To say nothing of the fact that my child is grown... and freedom DOES beckon. But a little baby boy with tiny braids toddled past us tonight and I know BigMan was looking. I looked... and I wondered....
But for the meantime I enjoy being his friend, his company.
Really, if I weren't so horribly broke, my life would be perfect...