Crossroads

Up, down, left, right
Where to go, hang on tight
Not in circles, not behind
Forward only, even blind

Confusion, foggy, not quite sure
Lighthouse ahead, even if blurred
Faith, trust, add some fear
All work together, makes things clear

Complete clarity, that’s the goal
Eyes fixed, you’re in control
Warm light appears through the murk
Trust it or don’t, it’s lots of work

Even when heavy, things will be light
Follow your gut, about to take flight
End is near, struggles will fade
Abundance is yours, just like you prayed

Written by Rebecca Grace Snider

 

UNBROKEN SPIRIT

Through the rubble, I emerge.
My scars are my glue.
Pain propels me into action.
I wasn’t held down, I flew.

My past has a purpose.
Acknowledge and rise.
It’s through fear that I grow.
More aware, more wise.

Love has its limits.
This I now know.
Can’t fix you, can fix me.
I will prove, I will show.

My heart beats anew.
A life to reclaim.
With strength in my spirit,
I embrace my own name.

Written by Rebecca Grace Snider

 

MATTERS NOT

Far or near, it matters not

Standing alone with all that I got

The distance unknown, the journey ahead

Move forward, chin up, be strong they said

 

Crawling, running or tip-toeing to test

A gentle push, then a gentle rest

My view is imagined, but could be a fact

No way to know, just stay on track

 

The future will reveal my story untold

Uneven terrain, but my heart is bold

My toolbox is heavy with all I may need

Searching for focus, can I follow your lead

 

Discarded untruths, letting go of the waste

Not holding onto things I can’t see, can’t taste

The unknown can be beautiful, and I do believe

One day I’ll look back at all I’ve achieved

Written by Rebecca Grace Snider

POLLUTION

Nearly 15 years. That’s a long time.
I tried with my all. Ignored red sign.
Now I’m stuck dealing with shit.
Go go go. I just want to sit.

Made of money. Sure why not.
Pay for it all. Endless pot.
He refuses. Certainly not shocked.
His sad stories. My heart is locked.

He says he still loves me. I don’t care.
But still digs deep enough for a prayer.
Please go away. Live your own life.
I tried so hard to be a good wife.

Apologizing profusely is his solution.
All this does is cause me pollution.
Getting a rise. He knows I can be soft.
My future is bright. No matter the cost.

Written by Rebecca Grace Snider

INSIDE HEALING

Moving forward, changing lanes
Approaching my future wide-eyed
Healing is happening, learning more
Happiness comes from the inside.

Written by Rebecca Grace Snider

WHAT I WANT

I want long hugs.
The kind I don’t have to ask for.

I want transparency.
The kind that is natural and not out of guilt.

I want forgiveness.
The kind where something isn’t hung over my head for years and years.

I want to be touched.
The kind that is because you love me and not because you’re thinking of someone else.

I want to be accepted.
The kind that makes my weirdness more charming.

I want to be heard.
The kind that makes my over-explanation of my feelings not feel like they are a nuisance.

I want to feel safe.
The kind that makes me feel comfortable being my true self.

I want communication.
The kind where I don’t get one word descriptions of your feelings.

I want to feel trust.
The kind where you don’t hold secrets.

I want to feel strong.
The kind that you love about me and not think it’s against you.

I want to be celebrated.
The kind where I feel like I can accomplish anything with you by my side.

I want respect.
The kind where you don’t complain about me to your friends behind my back.

I want quiet time.
The kind where if I need some alone time that it’s not against you, but for me to recharge.

I want something real.
The kind where our relationship is about us and not about appearances.

I want to not be judged.
The kind where my 53 year old flawed body is cherished and desired.

I want to feel balanced.
The kind where we find a way for our strengths and weaknesses to exist in harmony.

I want to breathe.
The kind where our relationship isn’t always under a microscope and a struggle, but where we can simply exist and enjoy each other for who we are.

I want to be vulnerable.
The kind where an open conversation about how we both receive love is welcomed and where our egos or wounded pasts don’t get in the way of listening.

I want to be loved.
The kind of love where not only am I receiving all of these things, but also 100% wanting to give them.

Written by Rebecca Grace Snider

FREEDOM

I smile a lot... laughter too
So many things I now can do
I feel light... and also free
Most of all, I feel like me

Mountains are big... so is my dream
Yesterday's loss has now been redeemed
I rely on myself... changes are good
Standing tall, just like I should

I ask for directions... listen, I do
Only I can choose where to turn to
I am enough... no matter who's eyes
Staying on path, I'll accept my prize

Written by Rebecca Grace Snider

BE STILL

“Be still,” He said to me,
“How else can I make you see
The future I have in store?
I just need you to believe.”

“In the future, you will shine.
I love you because you’re mine.
Learn love, learn trust, learn patience.
All good things come in time.”

There are lots of things you’ll learn,
But not before their turn.
I’ll keep you protected always.
And so I ask of you in return…”

“Put your heart in my hand.
Put your trust in my plan.
And when things don’t seem possible,
Just remember I AM.”

Written by Rebecca Grace Snider

UNWAVERING GRACE

Push forward, move ahead
Hard to do with shoes of lead
Future’s horizon calling my name
Do what I can to not stay the same

Things I’ve learned, most of all grace
Even with lead it’s pace after pace
Busting down walls, making me strong
Going straight forward is where I belong

The heaviness will lighten, I know this is true
The horizon is waiting to make me anew
The lead will loosen and fall to the side
Joy will take over and make my smile wide

Move ahead, push forward
Find happiness to move toward
Can’t grow without pain, but it doesn’t last
I will make my future much better than my past

Written by Rebecca Grace Snider

Sometimes It's Easy to Make a Hard Decision

They had pretty pink bows in their hair.

Running through the grass and falling on top of each other, the two little toddlers were oblivious to their mothers’ watchful eyes. Their playful giggling drowned out any adult conversation coming from the bench only a few feet away. As I walked past them I wondered. I wondered if their children were adopted or if they had them the good ole’ fashion way.

I’ve been having conversations like that a lot in my head lately. It seems I’ve not only noticed children more than usual, but I have found myself caught in conversations about people’s children. I’m sure this has always been the case, but in light of my recent doctor’s appointment the thought of children seem to be more front stage than usual.

I don’t have any children and my scheduled hysterectomy on April 1 permanently closes the deal. Sure, I can adopt. I have no problem with that. But there’s something about the birth of a baby. Your baby. The one who has your green eyes or your curly red hair. The child who has your smirk. Your laugh. Your bad math skills, but your artistic flair. A little you… as good or bad as that may be.

I was a little girl once.

And I had dreams. As a child I always assumed I would get married and have children. You know, the white picket fence and children’s artwork on the fridge. I’ve never married. I’m in no hurry for a bad marriage and so I’m more than willing to wait on a good one. But the children. I’ll be 40 next year and I have never, never wanted to have children in my 40’s. I applaud those who do, but it’s not something I want.

My mother asked me to put off the surgery and see if I could have a child. God bless her. She’s probably the only mother in history to ask her unmarried daughter to get pregnant. I can’t. I never wanted to be a single mom. And I can’t ask my boyfriend of less than two months to be a daddy. Plus, the real humdinger is that I’m most likely infertile anyway.

Part of me wishes I could give her a grandchild. Even though my parents would strongly disagree, I do feel like I’ve short changed them. I have never given them something that would bring them such incredible joy. I would love to be able to do that for them. But I can’t. And it hurts.

I explained to my mother my decision for having the surgery. I told her as deep as the emotional struggle is to permanently end the dream of having children, the relief I will get from having no more pain is stronger. The unbearable pain has to go. And out of this decision comes the guilt over a child that has never been born. My child.

I would be lying if I said the doctor’s suggestion was a shock. I had been contemplating it for the past couple of years. It was always in the back of my head, but I was too scared to say it out loud. The “what if’s” kept my mouth shut. The “could be’s” kept the dream alive. It took the doctor to say something for me to actually acknowledge it. To realize it. To absorb it.

And it made me feel justified.

I’m not one for radical surgeries just for the hell of it. I don’t have cancer and so this isn’t an emergency. But the early April date works in my busy schedule. I’m not looking forward to the cabin fever, but I am looking forward to after the recuperation period. I think I’ve forgotten what it was like to feel healthy. They say you never know the actual level of pain you’ve lived with until it’s gone.

As of today – Friday, March 6 at 7pm – I’m happy with my decision. I reserve the right to break down and cry at any moment. But right now as I type this… I’m okay.

It doesn’t matter if they were adopted or not.

Those two little girls I saw playing were having the time of their lives. Their grass-stained pink shirts and their messed up hair were the furthest things from their minds. All they cared about was each other and how loudly they could laugh. They don’t know how they came to be. They don’t know if they were planned or an accident.

And it surely didn’t matter at that moment. To anyone.