Dreams

On Tuesday night I saw Madonna.

She performed on stage in her Sticky and Sweet tour.

I saw it from like, .5 a mile away, but I still felt Madonna pulsing in the distance. She only humped her guitar once. She danced nonstop for 2.5 hours. Her show was seamless and smooth. She danced better and harder than any of her 20 year old dancers. Sometimes I don't think Madonna is huge b/c of her music, but b/c of her energy and essence.

One of my dreams was realized. Everybody has a list of things they want to achieve/see/experience/feel. Madonna was on my list. But for some reason, I really thought that it was unattainable. But my mother-in-law actually gave my husband the idea and we shelled out $85 for the tickets. And yes, $85 was really a cheap way to realize a dream.

Then something else occured to me: I have acutally achieved many dreams already. I have started my own family with the most beautiful baby I have ever seen. Every now and then I look at her and am baffled that she is really my baby. And that she is so beautiful. (Of course she looks nothing like me but is a spitting image of her father.) Today I was at the mall with the baby and my husband and I thought to myself how all the babies there looked retarded. Mean rigth? But I realize now that it was because I am just enamored by the beauty of my child. She is truly a beautiful essence. I know I'm her mother and I would say something like this about my own child, but I truly feel like she is special, and that she will become a presence in this world.

And then I realized that I have a really incredible man. ( I will get back to this.)

I think of the tribulations my mom has gone through in her experience with men in Thailand and the US- a "developing country" and the superior, where they have supposedly figured out their shit. And the stories are the same. Let me first say that it is not my place anymore to place judgement on anything that my mother has lived through or the decisions she has made that have affected me in regards to the men in her life. I think what made me come to this final decision and gave me will to act on it (which may sound too idealistic for any human being to attain but is still worth pursuing) is when I could see my mother as a child when she was telling her stories about growing up in a tiny room and waiting for her mom to come home from the brothel where she cooked for the prostitutes. And it was when she told me that the pain she felt when I reopened wounds feels like an untreatable sadness of failure - that only a mother feels when what she has given her child has not been enough. Now that I have a daughter, I could empathize with that feeling like I had never before. I finally understood what she really meant when she said, "you'll never know how I feel." I no longer thought that this line was just an egotistical ownership of her emotions that was just an excuse to ignore my emotions. She is right. I will NEVER know what it feels like to live how she lived and experience the pain she has experienced. Why would I want to give my mother more pain and assume that this is the only way that she could understand me? Why is understanding every emotion I have about her decisions the only way that things will be fixed? What is really broken? Who really needs to be understood? I came to the conclusion that nothing was broken anymore, and that we are really in the process of glueing things together and regenerating new limbs, because that's really my mom's greatest gift to me: survival and hope. I came to the conclusion that the person who really needs to be understood is her. Because right now, she needs my ears. And everything I think she doesn't understand about me is tainted by an old sense of vengence and anger that I didn't acknowledge I still had. But these feelings of vengence and anger were only remnants of something in me that DID die a long time ago...and once I realized this, I didn't have to reconnect with these feelings anymore. I just had to connect - to reconnect - with my mother again.

And that is another dream realized. My mom is safe and happy. Because I am safe and happy.
She is the woman of strength I knew she was. She has been transforming all this time, and I am finally seeing the colors. This makes me proud of not only her but myself because I come from her.

My dream of finding a mate who would be a father and healing addition to my family is ridiculously achieved. Not to brag. I think about the silly things, like when I am bossy he calls my bitchiness and neurosis "an annoying need to micromanage." Even when I am a pain in the ass to him, he still sees it through his love. I think of how he has transformed as a man in the years I have known him. His eyes still sparkle like they did in his baby pictures. His dignity and simplicity are entertwined. Inside him is an immoveable rock - and it is this faith in the goodness of people that has helped him navigate the rough waters of my family dramas. And belive me there were dramas. But he is still standing there, and strong and bright as his smile and blue eyes. He harbors no hatred, bad thoughts, or judgement about anyone. (the exception is 1 ex-starbucks shift leader...another story) Is that really possible? Can someone be so cool? Yeah, whatever you say. He's my husband blah blah blah. But if you know him you will know that he does not have 1 enemy. And all those who come across him love him or respect him.
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So you see, many of my dreams have come true. Now I will go and "visualize" more dreams. (Maybe I can visualize a varicose-vein free leg...) Hmmmm.....

peace to your motha...

no really.