I once brought home the cutest little baby raccoons that had been orphaned. I only got to keep them for a few hours until multi people convinced me that it was dangerous to keep them and that they would end up being more trouble than what they were worth.
I look back from time to time and wonder if I missed out on an experience because I listened to everyone’s free advice on the matter. Who’s to say…
I could have had the most loving pets in the world from them, or I could have been seriously injured.
Truth of the matter is, when I picked them up from the man that had trapped them on his farm, I was excited at the newness of them in my life. They seemed to me to be soft and cuddly and their big black eyes seemed to beg of me to take them home and love them, the curiosity seemed to go both ways thru the cage. As I drove home I made a few stops along the way and told friends and family of my new little friends, a friend pointed out a little chatter noise that started to bother me, someone pointed out to me they had sharp little claws, another mentioned their teeth, and another told me of their habits of trouble and mischief. By the time I got them home I had a fear of them that I had not initially seen.
I often wonder at that fear…was it justified? Was it fair of my family and friends to put their advice on my situation? Had any of them ever actually been in this exact situation? Was what they said all a bunch of hear say?
How is someone to grow and learn and feel things for themselves if everything is taken for granted and never actually experienced? Without a doubt I know the information given to me is always given with the intention of saving me from heartaches and troubles. But when do you step out and see the world for yourself?
I want to pick up that little orphaned raccoon and take a chance…hope for the best and pray along the way. I guess if I get bit I will learn…and honestly I may forget the feeling over time, I am not saying that I am not a slow learner. I just hope that the people that offer advice in the beginning will still love me and they can laugh with me in the end if they were right and it ends up a mess…but I also hope that If that little raccoon turns out to be so much more, that my loved ones will understand why I had to take a chance.
This is a special post for a very special person….and that person is very aware of who he is. My heart is past the point of returning to a place of ever being able to forget you. The way you have touched my very soul, you seem to have burned your impression on me. I am yours…forever and completely.
I pray to any God that will listen that you will wrap me in your arms each and every night for the rest of my life, holding me as close to your body as we can be. Feeling the warmth of your breath on my naked body, and listening to your heartbeat like it’s the only sound on Earth. Looking in your eyes and seeing the energy that lights your life is me, and letting you see in my eyes the same of you.
Kissing you first thing every morning and the last thing every night, and the many kisses all of the hours in between. I want to taste the sweet, pure honest love that we share for one another on your lips, and feel you caress my body like I am the most beautiful woman you have ever known.
I want to see your chest swell with pride each time you introduce me to someone, knowing that you really are proud to call me you own. And I want to enjoy the looks of jealousy I will receive from the many women that missed their chance at the most wonderful man alive.
I want to make you smile each and every day. I want to dance in the rain with you, cry in your arms when the world is too much, and watch the sunrise wrapped in only your love and a blanket. I want to count the stars till we fall asleep on the lawn, sit by the fire on a stormy winter day. I want to listen to the frogs, and to see the baby farm animals together. I want to kiss the tip of your nose or your forehead when you’re ill. I want to comfort your after a hard day. I want to listen to the birds together and have you show me the ones you know and love. I want to work in the yard and garden with you and get dirty and sweaty and then sneak in and have a cool shower together. I want to feel you come up behind me while I am busy and brush my hair from the back of my neck and have you kiss it tenderly, turning my body slowly to yours and know that this is only the beginning. I want to watch you sleep and most of all to be amazed every day at you!
I want to see the look in your eyes when I tell you that I am pregnant with our child. I want you to hold my pregnant stomach and enjoy the pleasure of feeling the baby kick and move within me. I want my body to make you swell with love.
I want to share my whole world with you for the rest of this life and any life beyond. Every emotion, every frustration or doubt, every joy and fervor, I want the first time our eyes meet to be just as passionate as they will be in a hundred years. I want to feel that fixation of love we share till the stars all fall from the sky. But most of all I want you to know…I love you. I can’t stop and won’t ever stop being madly in love with you.
As Natalie walked along the beach, she felt the sting of tears as they sprung to her eyes. How could he do this to her? What would she do now?
She had invested 12 years of her life into their marriage, thinking they were happy, only to have him say he was leaving. Her question of why had been left unanswered. There was no explanation or reasons. He had merely looked at her sadly and walked out the door without so much as a backward glance………….
Alone in the sand Natalie couldn’t stop thinking what if. What if she had been able to have a child? If she could have given him that, would she be in this situation now? At one time they had been so happy. She had foolishly thought that they could make it work by just loving each other. Natalie had told him from the start that she might not be able to have children. Back then he just looked in her eyes and said the only thing that mattered is that they had each other. Why had she believed him? Now, after twelve years of marriage she was all alone. They had tried for so many years to have a baby, but they never could. She had been through seven miscarriages and had given up hope. Now her husband had left her. She felt empty inside. If only he had known . . .
It was all a lie. No that wasn’t quite right. There was nothing false about the love at least not for Natalie. Yet the long nights laying against Brad after the loving exchange of heated passion, whispering softly of the hopes and dreams of the sweet pitter-patter of small feet treading through the carpeted halls of a loving home. The faked miscarriages were not something that Natalie was proud of but it had been her last resort at maintaining a thin veneer over the stained lies that haunted their relationship. For though in her heart, soul, and mind, Natalie was one hundred percent woman, Natalie was born Ned. Yet, how could she have told Brad the truth. For Ned and Brad had been best friends in grade school. Playing catch at the ball park, racing bicycles down the quiet suburban streets, camping in the backyard until that fateful day, when everything changed….
Natalie stared at her perfect breasts in the mirror. That surgeon was worth his weight in gold. She was every man’s dream – beautiful, successful, able to strip an engine faster than any man, but she was missing that one thing – a uterus. Natalie thought she had given Brad everything he wanted. She knew what men wanted in bed; she knew that men liked hot sex, cold beer and sport on the tube. Who was better to know what a man wanted than someone who had spent half of their life as a man, and her husband’s best friend. Life was wonderful until that barbecue with the new neighbors. Curse that little baby with her gummy grin and corn flower blue eyes. Natalie knew their lives would hit a road block when Brad said “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we had one of our own?” Natalie could do everything for a man, be everything for a man, apart from one thing… a mother….
Natalie knew there was one last trump card to play, although it was going to be a doozy -she would go back to her surgeon and discuss Changing Wombs. She decided that, after all these years trying to be the perfect woman for Brad, she’d like to experience that female condition with the roller coaster hormones, strange food cravings, sleep deprivation, painful boobs, constant toilet stops and be able to scare the bejebus out of other mums at Playgroup with her own horror birth story. Her surgeon had offered the optional plumbing in his original surgical assessment but Natalie had dismissed it, not considering for a minute that the sport-lovin’ Brad she had her eyes on would succumb to natures tug on his goolies. Having kept several bucket loads of Brad’s love juice on ice at a private storage facility proved the post-op turkey basting would not be a problem and could be a great surprise with which to win Brad back to her side. Natalie made her appointment, booked her ticket and was soon winging her way to motherhood.
Natalie slept for all of that long plane trip, exhausted from the emotions that had ravaged her mind, body and soul. She dreamed of what was to come, the look of surprise on Brad’s face when he saw her swollen with his child, of her triumphant return to his heart and his bed. During the taxi ride from the airport she let her mind wander to their future, longing for the look of wonder and awe as Brad looked upon her with their newborn child for the first time an event that would link them for eternity. She could never had prepared herself though for what was to happen as she entered her surgeon’s office. The sight of Brad sitting in the waiting room looking so pitifully embarrassed to be there, hunched over in his chair holding a magazine high in front of his face set her emotions whirling. His clumsy attempts to disguise himself with that stupid floppy hat and large dark sunglasses, may have fooled some, but not her, not when she had known and loved every contour of his face and tall muscular frame so well for so long. Natalie’s heart lurched as she quickly darted back into the foyer a million questions racing through her mind – What on earth was he doing in sitting in the waiting room of the most highly respected transgender specialist in the country and how could she find out without him knowing that she had seen him there?
She was hovering in the foyer in a lather of indecision when the receptionist’s voice broke into her ruminations, ‘Mr Fothergill, the doctor will see you now.’ Before she knew what she was doing, in three strides and a dive she had caught Brad by the ankles as he approached the consulting room door and brought him down in a tackle that would have brought a smile to the face of their Under 10s rugby coach.
‘Brad! NO!’ she cried, desperate tears spilling onto her cheeks, ‘We’re running out of penises!’
‘ . . . eenises . . . eenises . . .’ echoed the enthralled silence in the room. She surveyed her slack-jawed waiting-room audience, surreptitiously adjusting her skirt with her free hand.
‘What?’ she blustered in confusion. ‘What would you do if your husband’s balls were at stake?’ But a fidgetting in the stalls suggested she was already losing them. A magazine page shuffled. At the reception desk a computer mouse clicked.
‘Balls at stake? Meh,’ seemed to be the view in the waiting room of the most highly respected transgender specialist in the country.
A small girl, dressed in a pink pinafore stepped forward,- a naughty smile tugging at the sides of her mouth. “Tick-tock, you lost your cock, but all’s not lost, cuz I’ve been tossed, from the sperm of Brad, so don’t be sad.” She smiled broadly and did a little curtsey. “Hello Mummy and Daddy. It’s me, your long-lost, Maddie.” Before Brad or Natalie could utter a word, the Doctor stepped from his office and said, “So, how do you like her, I’d say she’s the spitting….
image of…..”, the Doctor stopped in his tracks in shock.
“B-B-Brad, Natalie, please step into my office, now.” stuttered the Doctor, “Nurse, please take Maddie into the examination room at the back and give her some paper and crayons, and please stay with her in that room until I come and get you.”
With that, the couple moved silently into the office behind the Doctor and sat down in stunned silence. Natalie regained her composure first, but her mind raced with questions. If this was Brad’s child, who was her mother? Why wait until now to reveal her to him? And if this was Brad’s child…..what did that mean for the future, their future?
Natalie stood stoically and looked expectantly at the doctor, unable to meet Brad’s gaze. “I’m sure you have questions,” the doctor began, “and you’d have a right to ask them. I only ask that you don’t report me to the authorities…”
“Authorities!” Brad roared. “Who is that child? I demand you tell me now!” Natalie had never seen Brad so angry and it frankly aroused her.
“She’s yours,” said the doctor and he looked nervously at Natalie, “and yours too, Nat.” The couple could only gape. “Seems a spare frozen egg and some left over sperm made it’s way into…” … the night-shift cleaning lady. Between her curiosity and desire to experience Motherhood, she dipped into the reserve spunk collection and turkey-basted herself right up.”
Natalie and Brad both shook their head in disgust and disbelief.
The doctor continued, “When she started to develop stretch marks during the second trimester, she admitted to what she had done and we decided together to keep it a secret. Between you, me and the fencepost, I was boinking the ol’ lady and didn’t think nothin’ of the swell of her belly.”
Brad was outraged at the surprising news. Natalie wept obnoxiously loud as she looked toward the door, wanting to see the child that was supposedly hers. Through sobs and snot, she managed to whisper, “But . . the child. Where are her arms?” . . .
And then came little ol’ me!
“She uses her toes,” Natalie smiled and looked at Brad with a little smile showing threw the tear stained face, “just like you do, when your to lazy to bend over and pick things up.”
“She definitely does have your eyes,” Brad added while reaching for Natalie’s hand, “she’s beautiful”.
“Now,” the Doctor broke into there thoughts, “you’ll have to sign some papers, as her…um, legal parents, to absolve me of any wrong doing, before she leaves for the orphanage.”
Gemisht, so she can add a little twist to the tale before the lucky winner goes for the final chapter!
Tear stream softly and quietly down my face as I sit surrounded by strangers in the dim light of the theater. A few deft sniffles somewhere in front and riffling threw a purse is coming from someone a few rows behind me trying, no doubt, to find a tissue to hide the signs again of another great tear jerker.
Some shows, no matter how many time you see them, make you feel the sting of life. Something that strikes home for one can mean nothing to another (depending on your own experiences). At times it can take you by complete surprise, like in a League of their own, others you know it’s coming from the moment you hit the play button on the DVD remote, like Passions of the Christ. The fact of the matter is the salty taste of your own tears can release so many worries and cares that we all continue to watch these movies over and over.
Today’s Thursday Thirteen is my list of movies that bring the silent and heartbreaking tears to me each time I watch them.
Flags of our Fathers
We were Soldiers
Where the red fern grows
The Bucket List
My Dog Skip