About Scattered Brain Matter

I started this blog to be able to post my writing up for the world to see. Obviously it hasn't really gone that far, but there are the few that do read this. I keep it up because it's a good outlet for my own mind and my writing. I hope that if you are reading, you enjoy.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Thoughts on Grandpa

Grandpa's in the hospital again. I know it's coming but I just feel like there's so much more that can come from his life rather than his death. I love him so much. Missing him won't solve anything...I know that...but is it selfish to not love him to the length where I'd give my heart for his?
China too...what if he dies while I'm there? How will I live with myself? Flight can take me back to his cold body...but it can't take me back to say the goodbyes I'm afraid will go unsaid. Then again, in my heart of hearts I feel that if I write my goodbyes, it'll be too preemptive and they'll be ill omens and that will not bode well.

I leave with this, that I love him and keep him forever in my heart and mind.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Random Rant

I'm so lost when it comes to people these days. They continue to twist and turn into things that I don't necessarily like or can even deal with. It's frustrating. Damn it all. I guess there are really only the hand full of people that really mean anything. And then there are the numerous files of people on the side that mean something, but don't really hold any kind of flame in the light of recent things. I'm done burning candles for nothing. It's a waste of wax; a waste of time; a waste of precious things that I guess I can't really care to let go any more. Things are changing and I can see that in retrospect, I guess I just don't want them to.
There are things, people, even...tiny things that I miss, or I'm going to miss. It's sad. I love so openly and I get hurt over and over again. I almost just want to tell people to fuck off...I guess that would be just the tip of the proverbial iceberg of bullshit that happens throughout my daily life. It's something that I guess I'm going to have to deal with. Maybe I'll write about it. That's probably the best thing to do and it's something that I knew was going to happen...


More later.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Happy Birthday Kristan =)


Today is your birthday
A day to celebrate you
Remember who you are and where you're going
Breathe deep and feel alive.
Believe in your heart
Have confidence in your mind
And smile.
They say live, laugh, love
Do more and be true
Be you.
-sg-

Monday, April 6, 2009

-Untitled-


I grabbed my robe from the hanger on the back of bedroom door. Glancing at the clock I noted the time. 2:47am. Who would be ringing my doorbell now? I turned on some lights as I went and hushed Shinobi and Björk. Images ran through my head of the time the police woke up me like this, to tell me that Henry had been in an accident. I had hoped never to answer a door to something like that ever again. I peeked through the peep hole and saw Sinead and Sammy, my newborn grandson, standing on the porch. I unlocked the door hurriedly and tore open the screen door as fast as I could.
She stood there, like a skeleton. Blood dripped from her nose and a cut, blossoming with a bruise adorned her right eyebrow. She fell forward onto me and sobbed uncontrollably. I took Sammy from her arms and ushered her inside. She found her way to the den while I calmed Sammy back to sleep and placed him in a crib upstairs. I rushed back down to Sinead and looked worriedly at her face.
“Sinead, what happened? Are you alright? Where are the girls? Are they ok? Where’s Matthew?” I handed her a facecloth I’d grabbed from the linen closet upstairs and dug in the hope chest for a first aid kit. She looked as though she’d run head first into a wall. I dabbed some antiseptic onto her wounds and she shivered at my touch. I had some idea of what had happened. I knew this cringe; I knew the tell-tale signs of abuse. It stirred memories I had tried to conceal for years. I hoped that I was wrong.
“I’m…I’m so sorry Mum. I know it’s terribly late and all, but we had nowhere to go,” her words were barely audible over her sobs.
“It’s perfectly alright darling. You know you’re always welcome here, no matter what time it is. You need to tell me what happened though.”
She looked at me and I could see the hurt and the night’s events play over her face. She told me the girls had gone to a friend’s house and that Matt had gone out with some friends. The house was a mess from the baby and Sinead hadn’t had time to clean up before Matt got home. He had become increasingly quick to violence and she didn’t understand why. She kept the house in order and things were done right so as to avoid any rage from Matt’s part. Tonight, she wasn’t so lucky.
“Matt did…did…this,” she pointed to her battered face and started to sob again. I put a comforting arm around her shoulders and knew no words would wash away tonight’s horrors. She laid her head in my lap and I rocked her back and forth, soothing her as I used to when she was a child. I had to admit I was awe struck and didn’t know what to make of the whole thing. Matt had never been a violent man and had never shown signs of it; then again, neither had Henry. This was the main reason I’d abolished drinking of any form from my household.
“You once told me to watch out for his temper, jokingly. But I never listened and tonight…” she broke off into a heave of tears again and I could only make out a few words. I walked to the kitchen to compose myself. A mother’s instinct would be to hunt down the bastard and kill him, but I knew better. I made tea and brought Sinead a cup and a blanket for her to cuddle under. I knew there was no comforting a beaten woman; knowing what it was like would help.
“Try and tell me what he did, Sinead. I need to know. It’ll help us if we need to get in touch with the police.” I said this last part hesitantly not wanting to send her into shock. I knew that she would be upset if she found out Matt could get arrested for this and that I would try my personal best to get that piece of shit locked away.
“He came home and was so angry about the house being a mess. He took Sammy from me and put him in his crib and the...then…he hit me. He told me I was a bad mother and wife and that I was worthless…and…and…” Her sobs took over again and I laid her back on my lap not wanting to force her more than I should. The fact that the children were ok was a small relief for me; this was not the end of this war. It was only the first battle, the first of many.
***
I walked the tea cups back to the kitchen and placed them in the sink. The clock on the stove flashed 4:33 am. I pulled my robe closer around my body, trying to absorb some heat from the lifeless feeling the conversation with Sinead had left me with. I knew how she felt. I sat at the counter and put my head in my hands. Thoughts of my first years with Henry flooded my mind.
***
I grabbed my suitcase and tore open my dresser drawer.
“I’m leaving you Henry and I don’t care about you any more.” I stuffed blouses into my case, tears streaming down my face.
“You can’t do this Peggie. You know I love you and I’ll change for you.” He dropped to his knees at this statement. Cupping his head in his hands he cried. His fists met the floor and shook the cups in the cabinet.
“You always say that Henry O’Donelly! You always claim you’ll stop drinking, and come home drunk. Hiding whiskey bottles in the god damn sink cabinet. You claim you won’t hit me again. I still pull out cover up to hide the scars and the bruises. I’m sick of your lies and I’m sick of the tears. I’m through with you and this god forsaken hole you’ve made us live in.” I slammed the top of my suitcase shut.
“Peg…I’ve done the best I can for you! I know that I’m not a millionaire or a suave businessman; you know that’s not me. I thought you loved me for who I was. I don’t know what else to fuckin’ do for you.” He walked over and tore my suitcase out of my hands. I fell to the floor, picking up the camisoles and stockings that fell out and sobbed into the mass of fabric in my hands.
Henry knocked the suitcase over to the other side of the room and knelt down in front of me. I quickly skittered away and cowered in a corner of the bed; not our bed…it wasn’t ours any more. Henry stood and shook his head. He moved to the doorway of the bedroom. His white beater was soaked with sweat and his face stained with tears. I couldn’t let him get to me now; I had to leave, for the both of us.
He walked over to me and knelt at the side of the bed.
“Margaret, please…” he wept. “Please, I love you too much. You give me a purpose in this meanin’less world. I’d die for you and I want nothin’ more than to make you happy. I promise,” he over emphasized ‘promise’ and started to cry again. “I will do right by you from now on. I’ll go to church; I’ll get cleaned up and look like a respectable husband. No more whiskey. I’ll get rid of all the drinkin’. Please Maggie, don’t leave me like this. I’m nothin’ with out you.”
I sighed heavily, looking from the small golden ring on my left hand to the broken man on the floor in front of me. I put my legs over the side of the bed. I looked around the room, and sighed again. The suitcase was a wreck next to the dresser, which itself was torn apart. The sheets of the bed were askew from my frightened leap onto it. It was a mess. All of this was; this room; our life; the world.
The lights in the room flickered as the midnight train hammered by. Henry crawled closer to my legs and laid his head on my lap. I could feel the dampness of his face seeping through my skirt. Grabbing my hand, he kissed it and sobbed lowly, something that sounded like “I love you” escaped his lips.
Should I stay? I thought through everything in my head. What if this was like the last time? Would this continue to happen over and over? Could I endure that evil…it could kill me.
I placed a hand on Henry’s head and bent over to kiss it. “If you fail me again Henry O’Donelly, I’ll leave you for good. No negotiating. I’ll be gone and you’ll be alone. Understand?”
“Perfectly,” he said. “I swear to you, I’ll change for the both of us. I swear on my mother’s grave.”
“…three of us,” I corrected. “The three of us.”
“Wait, Peg…you don’t mean?” He looked at my face and then at my midriff. He put a hand on it and then placed his head back on my lap. The tension in the room swirled around like the thick August air. “I’m gonna be a daddy? Can you believe it…?” He smiled, like I hadn’t seen him smile in months.
“The doctor told me yesterday. That’s why I was leaving you. I don’t want my...” I paused. “Our, baby to be brought into a violent world. I won’t have violence littering its life. I can’t.” I wiped a tear away and put my other hand over Henry’s.
“Promise me, one more time. Sincerely, you bet your life on it Henry. Change, for our family, for our baby. I need to hear it one more time.”
He looked me in the eyes and tightened his grip on my hand. “I promise you Margaret Mary O’Donelly.” He leaned up and sealed his promise with a kiss.