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From Reality to Walt Disney

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  • From Reality to Walt Disney

    When the little girls huddled together and revealed what they wanted to be when they grew up,
    I was the only one that did not say mother,
    I realized I was incapable of raising another life
    I was too young to raise myself

    As years went by, mommy never made it to by bucket list
    I was busy with too many other things I tried pushing the thought away with
    day by day, I needed reassurance
    i would not be a mother
    when I could not control myself
    I could not answer the questions my children would ask me

    when my son leaps off the dining room table
    and lands right arm first on the hard wood floors;
    how can I explain to him that he cannot fly,
    when danger seems to surround him how can I say
    that he will never be able to spread wings and escape,
    how do I teach him that I birthed him into a cell blocked world;
    sure there is good along with bad
    sometimes he'll be blind to anything but the sun,
    but being blind does not mean being immune,
    he will face bullies and bad choices,
    I don't know if I can live with the guilt

    the first time my daughter asks me to borrow my makeup;
    how do I tell her that it will not give her confidence
    how can I say it will only mask her inner devil,
    veil the voices criticizing her in her mind,
    how do I warn my daughter to wear water proof mascara
    what should I say when she asks me why?

    how do I teach a child that along with the fun times,
    can come very very bad ones;
    that bright colors fade into black
    sometimes they’ll put exes over days on their calendar that haven't passed yet
    they will recycle the tears I shed,
    do I make them tissues out of my diseased dreams?
    knit mistakes into a sweater that will choke them?
    some problems can't be solved by believing in yourself,

    to all Walt Disney stories;
    how do you expect me to tell my children that they will have dreams that will not come true?
    sometimes they'll reach for the stars and all they'll end up with are fists full of air,
    how do I tell them that they will love someone, and that love won't be returned,
    how can I explain the that the pharmacy will be out of band aids when they need them most
    Should I tell him everything will be okay, even when it won’t?
    It is not possible to be happy unless you’ve seen happiness first hand
    I have never been a good teacher

    To all Walt Disney stories,
    where can I direct my child when they ask where G-d is?
    How can I tell them He is wearing an invisible cloak
    when they need Him, He will not always seem there
    what do I answer them when they ask how to believe in something greater than life?

    I'll tell them not all stories worth telling are easy stories to tell
    I'll tell them that not all stories have happy endings
    sometimes the beauty of their questions lie in the fact that they have no good answers
    there are no perfect phrases to live by
    there are no safety nets waiting at the bottom of a pit
    or a bottle or their hearts
    sometimes the bridges they build will only give them splinters
    I cannot protect them,
    But I will pass the empty band aid section and buy tweezers to pull out their wounds
    I will read them hopeful documentaries
    teach them about rain and let them ask me about sunlight
    I will say sorry for letting them get hurt and maybe they will forgive me,

    But if life does them in
    and my son shows up with a broken arm
    and my daughter comes home, cheeks stained with mascara
    to all Walt Disney stories
    when my children beg me to tell them why they aren't good enough
    would you like me to tell them that dreams come true?