…change drastically, I have been thinking for a few days now. Like, take, for example, the things I would be crying in my teens for, would have to do with my parents, my limitations with what I wanted to do in life and the need for parental permission, then would be love (which made me cry lots and lots), then would be love together with work (or the need for it), then would be political activism, together with love (ah, allways, I thought then), then it would be worries about being able to pay the rent (or end up in the street), at some point it was the frustration for everyone wanted to label me sexually, when I less needed labels, there was a minimal amount of crying due to substance abuse, then love again with the need to restart in life (again). There was a lot of crying in silence for things I had lost, like pictures or master recordings of our band, which got lost in the gypsy life I had chose, then love again.
Then I cried for life stroke my husband with Multiple Sclerosis, and thenh I cried because I couldnt give him the strenght I have to challenge illness. Then I cried because he chose not to fight. I cried for I fel I was to blame for my child's lack of father, then I also cried for having to start again. And for my condition was taking over. And for I had to live my land again, my home, my little space on earth for which I had fought so much, cried so much, but finally had made mine….
I cried over every *brick* I built when I came back to England, I cried seeing the crumbing of the man I had loved. And then, I thought (terribly mistakenly) that I would no more cry for love.
And then I entered a new world. Rebuilt myself, had the world (literally) at my feet. And love found it's way into my life, in a way I would have never ever suspected, and I, again, cried. It took my a while (quiet a long while) to be able to stop. (crying)
And now I look around and see myself crying for a dishwasher (or the lack of connection), a parking or traffic fine, and see the need to remind myself the old thing my parents insisted when I was first crying on imposibilities…..
That if the problem has a solution, why cry? let sort it… and if it doesnt have a solution….we ll only waste time in crying…..
I am still ver latina, very emotional, though I have accepted my life is now in Britain, London my home; I know I will still cry (a bit) for silly or not all that silly things.
The dishwasher is now connected. Today was the first day of the summer holidays and I spent it entirely in bed, reading. I cooked something which didnt come out as intended as I realise (late) that we had no more (or not enough) white rice. But we ate it. My princess spent the day ouside with her new friend form across the road (the proud owner of a brand new chopper, which I suspect it to be Sarita's main interest…)
I have been called to be the matron of honour in Ana Carla's wedding, which means we ll have to start saving to travel (again). I have this great good feeling about being in touch with them and the know that my house is looked after (4000 km away)
There s so much life awaiting.