When the Battle is Over

 I had a thought this morning when I was cleaning the cat box.

I heard.

I've had so many things happen in my life that nearly broke me. I know people say that sort of thing, even Paul did. 

Human nature to think about our past and what made us who we are, especially when we don't really like who we are. 

Actually, I do like who I am. I am not perfect by any scope of the imagination. I'm perfectly flawed. 

You stole that line.

Sort of. 

Something is on your mind. Why don't you tell me?

I'm trying to figure out how to word it. My thought was that something really hates me and has been trying for a long time to break me. I don't know why. I'm nobody, have no followers, no fame. I'm the epitome of a nobody. But I was never wanted. In fact, I probably shouldn't be here.

I wouldn't have put you here if I did not intend you to be here. 

That implies a purpose. 

Yes. 

It got lost somewhere.

No.

My mother and Dad weren't married, but when he found out, did the honorable thing. They'd only had one date, for heaven's sake. She walked away after six months. From the hospital, you put me in the hands of the greatest mother I could have asked for, my beautiful Mama. 

I knew she'd care for you as if you were her own. 

I never felt less than that. But you gave me an alcoholic, Daddy. Sober, no finer man lived. But....

He was perfectly flawed. And we talked before the end. You knew you were loved. 

But never felt like I belonged anywhere. And you took her too soon. 

She gave you what you needed. You learned to be independent earlier than most. 

I couldn't bake biscuits!

But you could iron a white shirt. Besides, you didn't really need the biscuits. 

You're so funny. 

And I sent Jerry.

Oh, yes. My knight in shinning armor. So many memories. Good, bad, and terrible memories. And you took him too soon, too. 

He should have told you. 

Yes. He should. 

Where is this going? 

I had a childhood filled with me doing things that could have killed a normal child. And with trauma no child should experience. Alcohol is a monster that no one sees but the victims. Right up till Mama died, we lived with that monster. I remember islands of happiness and a sea of sadness. Then Jerry and I had so many hurdles to get past. I wish I'd had more advice from Mama. I had to battle for everything, and there were some terrible heartaches involved with keeping it together. Twice we nearly ended it. We worked through it. But in the end, I don't know if he knew how very much I loved him. He was too busy hiding the truth from me. I was so angry because I didn't understand what was happening. I'm still angry.

You're wasting energy on that. 

I don't have Mama to tell me how to stop. Ah, then there was the lost child, the two brushes with death. Two problem pregnancies and a child with a learning disorder and hearing problem. Top all that off with battles with bullies, school corporations, and depression and you have a stew of vast proportions. Children who get involved with the wrong people and drugs. I survived their youth with many wounds. 

Everyone has wounds.

Why?

Because battles cause wounds and leave scars. 

There was a bright fairy that dropped in who made the world livable, pain bearable. Then in walks Death. After that, things go really dark with only one little bright star to light the sky. Until that too disappeared. I still battle, but other unwelcome things. I get exhausted and I could sleep for days.

And as I cleaned the cat box, I realized that something really ugly hates me, always has, and has spent years wearing me down. I've survived every battle. There are so many scars than if I could actually see them, I'd look like something from a nightmare. {sigh}

Ah, the famous sigh! I haven't seen it for a while. That's probably a good sign. It means you're not giving up.

You know I never stop fighting. I may flag for a time, but stopping is not an option.

I do! You are a fierce fighter. 

Right now, I feel that I'm digging trenches. In fact, it feels like I've always been digging trenches. I'm tired. I'm dirty. There are things out there, ugly little things that snarl and snap at me. 

But you're a very good shot. You keep them at bay. 

There is a price. 

I know about the price of things. No free lunches is the human term. It's very true.

Something has spent a lot of time, effort, and energy to get at me. No, I don't stop and I won't stop. I do not care what it cost me. No, that's not true. I will care. I simply can't let that stop me. 

I'm astonished.

Remember Jephthah?

I do.

I wrote a paper about him in college. I could never forget him. He fought when no one else would. But he was careless with his words, never really considering the outcome would be so costly. He fought regardless. So, I will continue to fight the battles. But I know that the cost may be very high, but not fighting is not an option. I just get so tired.

I know.

Maybe when the last battle is done . . .

We'll do lunch. Maybe a picnic with all our friends and family. 

That sounds like heaven.

Funny you should say that.

#ConversationsWithHim