(Don't) Lean on Me...

Sometimes, all someone needs are a few words of comfort to get them through trying times. 

These are not those words. 

*Three Sisters Blog neither supports nor actively participates in comforting those in need. You are on your own, little buddy.*

L

Baby Limpski

Disney lied. 

Most of us spent our growing up years watching stories of princesses being swept off their feet by handsome princes and living happily ever after. 

Then we got married. 

And realized our "happily ever after" was really just catering to a fussy toddler...uh...our "Prince Charming" forever. 

My Prince Charming is a bus driver with a penchant for corn dogs.

In addition to his love of finger foods, R likes to tell BAD jokes. 

Not cool bad. Like jokes about strippers and blow. 

Just genuinely bad. 

Yesterday, I saw an ant and said "Look at that ant." To which he replied "Where is the uncle?" and proceeded to laugh, looking at me expectantly to do the same. 

R likes me to inspect things he has cleaned. And then deluge him with praise. 

"Look at the cabinets, I pledged them"

When I replied "Ok", he squirmed in visible disappointment. 

Apparently his emotional bucket was empty and he wanted me to fill it.

I am just waiting for him to ask me to give him his sippy cup and change his diaper. 

And since I am not Erin, I would not enjoy that. 

My next husband is going to be a stoic, emotionally unavailable, and distant. 

But he will have amazing hair and a solid retirement plan.

My Prince Charming at last. 

L

Lights, Camera..Gimp

 

                                               

Lights, Camera...Gimp

                                               

The stage cold, the audience one, the actor broken

Since the start of our journey D has never closed the curtains on his one man show no stage "too big or small". He believes the world needs to see his show. No venue, setting, even (family or friends gathering) is an inappropriate time play "show and tell" with his emotional wounds. I've caught D numerous times setting up a makeshift stage so complete strangers (usually my friends) can hear his tales of pain. He once trapped a man (my friend/coworkers Husband) during a time of merriment and joy (our friend/coworkers wedding) and limped proudly onto his stage of emotional wreckage (the corner of the dancefloor) to share with this man that this day was significant as it was a three weeks away from the day 15 years ago that his Papa would pass. I could see the lights dim and the trapped audience bewilderment at how they purchased this ticket. This would not slow D he was primed for the performance, ready to bare all. Two people left that time of merriment (myself and my friends husband) perplexed, shaken and aged from the performance. One person however, left invigorated, clambering for more and ready for the next (inappropriate) time to become an emotional nudist, a streaker, a flasher of the truth in his soul. 

Big Boy Takes a Dukey

A couple weeks ago, I overheard J talking to his parents in their biannual phone

call. I was in the other room reading a book.

J:  Yeah, I’m just hanging out.  Danielle went to bed a while ago.

Me: ??

J parents: wahwaheahwah

J: I’ll let you go soon. I have to get up at 4 for work.

J parents: wahwahwahwah

J: No, she’s not going to work now.

Me: (What is he talking about?  I’m online teaching)

J parents: wahwahwah

J: (sighs) . Don’t worry. I am going to put all the kids to bed after I hang up, and then I’m going straight to bed. Thanks for calling.

*slow claps*

J continues his 20 year tradition of burning up the lines to his folks and writhing in emotional agony. 

Don't fix what ain't broken, amirite?

D

Their feathers are just too bright

When R lost his childhood pediatrician, whom he hadn't seen in 30 plus years, the pain and grief were practically insurmountable. 

Later that year he would lose his cousin's husband's nephew. 

He would ask the same question that you may be asking yourself right now....

"How much pain can one man endure?" 

Only the comforting warmth of many facebook messages and status likes would sooth the burning of his agonized soul. 

Marriage to R has helped me to realize that a grief vulture is not made...he is born. 

His wings bright, his face ever turned towards the dark clouds on the horizon.

 He knows trouble and pain are only a moment away. 

This poem talks about tears and uses the word "content". 

Who comes up with this crap?

Anyway, 

Welcome to the Three Sisters Blog. 

And Welcome to McDonald's...what can I get you?

L