sueeeus

I think often of my own wild boys.  They’ve had a rough road to walk too.  It hasn’t been easy for them.  I worry about them.  In a way, I’ve mothered some of them, and now that I’m older I wish that I had mothered them more, or done a better job.  I wish I’d had my eyes more open to what they were going through, and what they needed, rather than just trying to keep myself afloat.  I wish I could have figured things out sooner, found my own way sooner, so that I could be there for them and not contribute to their own growing pains.  I wish I could take back any pain that I may have caused them, any sorrow, any misunderstanding.  But it was survival, in those days.  Growing up and finding your way is survival when you don’t have good parenting and guidance.  How I wish that life were easier for them now.  How I wish that they didn’t have to struggle with themselves and how they fit in, in this crazy world.  Fitting in.   Finding your way.  Sometimes it’s so hard.  I want my wild boys to be strong, confident men who hold their heads high, laugh, love, and joy in the mere essence of being.  I want them to be free, unencumbered by guilt, sorrow, regret, stereotype, and discrimination.  I want them to be happy.  I want them to be successful in the ways that are meaningful to them.  I want much for my wild boys.  But it’s so much harder for them, now, now that one is gone.  My heart breaks for my wild boys.