There’s goosebumps and then there’s goosebump mountains. The latter is what appeared all over me after posting last night. A post that you can’t see right now. I removed it at the request of a kitten. It was about a comment written to her by the man who betrayed her. She emailed me within moments of the post going live. Their relationship has improved significantly over the last few months and she didn’t want the publishing of his comment to alter that progress. He had commented many moons ago, but it just didn’t seem right to post it then.
So last evening, as I dozed at the keyboard, I felt it was the right time. I wrote. Found a picture. Checked for typos. Reread my words to make sure I said what I intended to say. Then I clicked publish. When I received the kitten’s email I went to remove the post and discovered something remarkable.
Even though his comment was in the body of my post when I published it, it had vanished. Somehow. The rest of the post was intact. His words, gone. Unbelievable. I feel like I’m wrapped up in the arms of some being, so utterly protected. And one who desires to protect those around me, too. I am so grateful.
I do need to publish the intro though, because it is hilarious. Thanks to the tall dude. So here it is:
I picture some of you with sugar plums spilling out of your grinning mouths. Others wearing footie PJs and popping dark chocolate. And over there, where the lights twinkle, I see the holiday triathlete set – pre-Christmas bashes, Christmas Day done right, and gearing up for New Year’s Eve. Your endurance is respectable. Admired, even. You are the kids who can hit the gym for a week and look smokin hot regardless of the sugar cookies, champagne and the Manchego cheese drizzled with black truffle honey (Oh, wait, that last one’s mine.) that you put back like Lohan on a bender since the holiday season began.
I love you for that.
Tonight I am a puddle. The tall dude spent the overnight at the hospital. What looked like appendicitis turned out to be (I SO love bathroom humor) a yacht sized poo crammed into a too small canal. At about 11:30 this morning he announced the impending birth.
I’m going to drop the kids off at the pool.
That’s no kid, dude. That’s Sasquatch.
5 minutes later…
You’re right, Mommy! It is Sasquatch! And he’s shaved!
I attempted a comeback but stopped short. Those three sentences need to stand alone. Instead, I stood over the toilet bowl marveling at the dude’s creation as I began The Plunge – a Herculean task.
A 50 year old man would have been the more likely manufacturer of that large shipment.
As I said, I am a puddle. Feeling more like watching my feelings for a while to see what they have to say than writing it out just yet. I’m too cloudy. But I have this for you…
Other than one comment from The Genius that I have not posted (not to say I won’t some day), this is the only comment that has never seen the light at HGM. When I first received it, I was too overwhelmed to craft a reply. Then I felt it was simply too personal to post. I had so much to say, but felt I ought not be in the middle. And that he may have regretted writing it. So, there it sat. For months. Never deleted, while all others were posted, save one.
Over the past week I’ve been pondering this comment. My curiosity about the genesis of affairs and the collateral damage once they are discovered has been fed by owl sightings and foggy nights of late. This comment drifted in and out of my core while I gazed up at the moon and the beam of Jupiter, sitting just off a silvery white swirl of paint floating in a gray and black clouded sky. Last night, before our trip the ER, I felt the time was right to publish his words, and do so in the body of a new post.
Perfect timing. My eyes are in fact shut. I have no idea what I’m typing.
Tomorrow I will be all Big Bad VooDoo Daddy. So needed. Then, I’m begging you to come walk through the Christmas Just Passed with me. I have goosebumps just thinking about it.
Merry, Happy, Holy, Holly. You look so slammin with that bow on. Best present ever.
*And there you have it. Magic at work. The balance of the post was his comment. Gone. HGM is a magical place. Taking my laptop with me on my adventure. These next few days are going to be brimming with messages and signs. The first being this, that I received this morning from The Universe: You don’t have to understand all that happens, figure out every twist in the plot, or even know why the winds sometimes blow as they do, Cleo, to grasp that I do, I have, and that ultimately each and every story has a fairytale ending.
Thank you, Universe. Thank you, kittens. LY