My Foremothers

Joseph Daniel Fiedler for NPR

Somber days come and go.
Remind me of the work to put in.
These days are as much the work as any.
Happier moments are sprinkled throughout.
Take it all with grains of salt.
Astrology says I'm going through a major life shift,
changes to ways of looking at the world.
I don't need to believe it all to find comfort.
That this rough path is headed towards smoother plateaus.

I think of my Mother and Sister and Grandmothers.
All the work they may have or didn't put in.
"Trauma travels through a family, until someone is ready to feel it."
I don't believe all this pain is directly my own, but feel it all the same.
Women with my name.
Running, running, running away
Using booze, and pills, and methamphetamine to distract from dismay.

Women are so damn strong,
in spite of how we're told we are weak.
Children and marriage will give you what you need.
It all feels like some god damn sham.
Maybe for some it does the trick.
but I've watched so many women tear themselves
limb from limb.
To seek happiness, to be seen by some man.
That's the directive and narrative I grapple with.
I carry these women with me,
want to demand more for them and for me.

So much I wish to share and discuss with my Mom.
I still think of my sister and wish her strength and luck.
Pondering the legacy of women behind me,
it also cultivates thoughts of children and
what kind of parent I might be.
Breaking the cycle could present itself in various ways.
I don't want others to know this pain.
The challenge of truly standing and existing
on my own two feet.

Exploring the implications of self-care,
which really seem to be self-control and
even monotonous tasks, like going to the doctor
or keeping my spaces clean.
Anything to lessen the inherent madness
that comes with existence.
Existing as a person, as a woman
who loves, sometimes too much it seems.
Listening to my heart beats and racing thoughts.
Sitting through and traversing the insanities
of being a woman caught within a well-worn cycle.
Cultivating new pathways, neuro and physical.

Acknowledging my own story and actions,
seeing I relatively like who I am,
what I do and who I'm about.
Who I fuck with, ways I spend my time.
My goodness, my gracious.
I see you, my fellow foremothers.
Healing and breathing and seeing it through.
One day and space and step at a time,
the patience to learn from you.
And make something all my own,
something new,
something true.
My own legacy.