Sandy Supposes....

Lost, Never To Return

Prompt: Write about something you lost that you’ll never get back.

         

         

         

         

         

         

         

         With my forty-fourth wedding anniversary looming in the near future I can think of one thing I lost. Not that I miss it, or regret the loss. I will even go so far as to confess I enjoyed leaving it in my past. Of course, I accept that it's resurrection would require a miracle of epic proportions. As far as I know this has never been restored and rightfully so, it had an explicit no return policy. I cashed in my only copy and that led to another inescapable loss.

         Hubby and I cast aside all caution, or is the more acceptable term we threw all caution to the wind and embarked upon the perilous journey of parenthood. Nothing swirling in that wind struck us on the head to bring us to our senses. No smattering of cold water shocked us into a second consideration. We dove headfirst without life jackets. We embodied the sink or swim philosophy.

         One child wasn't enough. Two children, one of each persuasion, weren't enough. We went all in with three progeny. Most items come in pairs, ears, eyes, hands, feet. I came equipped with the standard two and pitted them against three pairs of similar design. I created this imbalance, three versus one.

         Child-rearing stripped me of my balance, my equilibrium. Some days, I lost an inkling of up from down. I careened along a rickety roller coaster. My stomach could plummet to my quaking knees or batter my windpipe. I swear I heard shrieking and whooping. My pulse pounded in my ears. Did I breathe or gasp? White knuckles tensed as I held on.

         An endless loop of blurred days caused me to question my sanity and I believed I'd lost my mind. It deserted me and left me stumbling in the circus. I chose to become a mother?

         I forfeited all rights to my privacy and my alone time.

         "Where are you going, Mom?"

         I learned to reply, "I'm going crazy, want to come along?"

         "Mom, why's the door closed? Whatcha doin' in there? I'm hungry."

         "I looked with my eyes like you said, but it's not here. Mom, you're good at findin' stuff."

         "How long are you gonna be in there? The dog barfed in the hall."

         Despite my vows to never be like my mother her voice welled up unbidden and spewed forth. "Because I said so, that's why."

         "Mom, he's breathin' on me!"

         "Mom, she's starin' at me!"

         Ugh! Those whirlwind days are behind me. I survived. The offspring survived. Thank goodness we shall not experience a repeat.

         I've realized the worry, the fear for their safety and well-being never abates. I shall never regain my pre-mother innocence. Do I wish for it's return? No, not on your life!