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I’ve been thinking about this little home in Tahiti.  Frenchie and I visited here a few years ago.  Just behind this small little hut is a beautiful ocean full of wonder and amazement.

As a child I lived in several different houses, none that I would call home. The anger and defilement left me with resentment and ultimate loneliness.  No one in our home was allowed to be or do ‘better‘ than the stepdad.  I always had to be smaller and less important he took it out on me with his words and when that was not fulfilling enough for him his rage took over, and ….well he always won. It had to be his way.

I never wanted my children to feel pain, sorrow or insignificant. I tried my hardest to shelter them from fear or need of love.  The truth is as a parent we make mistakes, I’ve made mistakes–I didn’t know how to comfort my own children when I was diagnosed with cancer.  For twenty five years I’d built four walls around myself, hating the very home I banked on dying in (my physical body)  I liked how it felt to not feel anything, it was my comfort zone–no one in, no one out. I’m not sure how I became the exact person I never wanted to be.  Unfortunately there are other’s out in the world who are feeling this nothingness right now.

We are all born and one day we will all die; I’ve learned it’s between birth and death that we make the most impact not only on our own lives but our posterity-the children who will come after I am gone.

I’m trying for the first time to see through the eyes of my children.  I’m beginning to imagine how hard it must have been on each one of them hearing their mother had cancer. I was not as sensitive as I thought I was, it is now apparent to me while the spot light has been on me I had no idea what they each were feeling and still don’t.

In an instant our lives changed when we heard “You have cancer” and for me even more when I heard “Your face will never be the same again.” For some reason I believe cancer was much harder on my children than the diagnosis of facial paralysis.  For them they are grateful to still have their mother around, I get that now.  In some ways I believe they are still processing those feelings.

However, for me the emotions are much different.  I don’t expect them or anyone else to understand. I am not the person I was five, even two years ago–and my children are not the same people they were five years ago either.  Heart wrenching hard times have fallen on our home, and now it is time to rebuild.

Tearing down that old house may or may not be harder than I think it will be–all I know for sure right now is just like this small cozy home in Tahiti there is wonderment and amazing things just around the corner.

With every crash of every wave I hear something now I never listened to before-I stand on the edge of the cliff listening and waiting for whisperings of what to do next.

Monya Bonbon


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