2 a.m. voices

It is 2 a.m.

I am awake. And I am reminded of one of the few sayings I have pinned to my Pinterest board: “2 a.m.’s were made for poets. Lovers/writers. Visionaries. Photographers. Painters. Over thinkers. Silent seekers. These are my favorite hours.”

They used to be. In college, I was a night owl. Took me until senior year to figure out I should not schedule classes before noon. My muses sensed the shift in my energy at 8 p.m. and the party began. Some of my best papers were overnighters.

Tonight is a different 2 a.m. I feel the magic could be there. But the screaming meanies I usually keep at bay are having their way with me.

We received test results for my ex. Cancer—again. Even as I write these words, I know I cannot publish this blog entry until we’ve told the kids. I wondered, at the beginning of my divorce, if I was enough. I have found I am. It does not mean I would ever choose to do this alone unless I felt it the only alternative.

I have been jamming on A Course in Miracles. I feel the positive shift. I stay in the moment. But this—this is big. The voices clamor for my attention. Boys need a father. Will he be here long? So much water under the bridge—why did it have to be this way? If this were 16 years ago, I would be at his side. Now, I am an onlooker who is also the mother of his children. His grieving children.

I did all the right things over the past 24 hours. Talked to them matter of factly. Hugged. Cried with them. Emphasized we celebrate each day as it comes. Sent my youngest to school with the loudest, most hideous sequined St. Patrick’s Day tie I could find. Laughed with him in the car as we tried out our Irish voices. But there are moments I wish I were still the child. That my mother and father could just hug me, comfort me and tell me all will be well.

I am betting a good percentage of you have had your own smack-down with the screaming meanies at 2 a.m. I plan on winning this one. Staying in the moment. Reading, writing as I am now, meditating. Letting life unfold as it will, whether I listen to the voices or not.

And then—another of my few Pinterest quotes comes to me: “There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen.”

Thank you, Rumi.

And I sleep.

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40 Comments Add yours

  1. I guess tonight is the night about reading heart breaking posts. I am sorry, for all its worth, for the tragedy that struck.

    1. candidkay says:

      Thank you. We are all hanging in there at the moment–taking it day by day.

  2. mollyb111 says:

    Wow! Every word you wrote, just wow. Beautiful and… sad. XOXO

    1. candidkay says:

      Thank you. Beautiful and sad sometimes pal around, don’t they?

      1. mollyb111 says:

        That is true! Keep being amazing you!

  3. Stina says:

    I am so sorry, words of wisdom seem so trite right now so I will offer you my thoughts and prayers instead. ~Stina

    1. candidkay says:

      Thank you! Much appreciated–all of it.

  4. George says:

    Terrific quotes. 2AM can be a very creative time and also a time when difficult times can push the walls in a little closer. Daylight always seems to lift that veil. My prayers for you and you family as you move through these uncertain days.

    1. candidkay says:

      Appreciate the prayers–truly. And yes, night in general for me brings a magic. I’m sure not everyone feels this way but I’ve always welcomed it . . .

  5. I’m sorry Kristine. I’m at a loss for the right words. I know you will be strong for your kids.

    1. candidkay says:

      Thank you–I’m trying . . .

  6. Cindy Dadik says:

    Oh Krisse. I’m so sorry to hear this! You have been so strong for so long and now this! Sending prayers & strong thoughts your way. Hugs to you, my friend!!

  7. Aunt Beulah says:

    Such powerful quotes, Kay, and such a difficult time for you as you do right by your children and try to find the best way to do right by your ex husband. My ex died from a brain tumor before I had a chance to tell him good bye. I lived with him for 23 years, most of them happy. I needed to say goodbye. It’s tough.

    1. candidkay says:

      Oh my. I had no idea. Tough doesn’t begin to describe it. How did you get through that?

      1. Aunt Beulah says:

        I haven’t yet, Kay. But I think about it less often. He died during surgery, which I didn’t know he was going to have. And I still find it hard to believe that he didn’t call me because we had remained friends.

      2. candidkay says:

        I wouldn’t presume to guess why he did not call you, but I did have a friend who struggled with cancer and did not call me when she went back into the hospital. She didn’t call most of us because calling us meant it all became more real. She died during that stint in the hospital. I guess none of us can begin to know what it is like to go through that until we do.

  8. I feel for you. It must be SO difficult, having previously been by his side, and to know that now that is not your place. Being the rock for your children, as you are, is the right place. And yes, 2 am thoughts work well at such times.

    1. candidkay says:

      You nailed it. Thank you.

  9. A powerful post. I totally get the 2 am thing except mine is usually 3am. My sister is going through the same experience. I can only imagine. Blessings to you and yours.

    1. candidkay says:

      I am so sorry. Will keep your sister and your family in our thoughts and prayers.

  10. No journey is easier than another and I am so sorry to hear your news. You are aware, present and doing everything you can to soften this news with your children. Each day is different, and when you don’t know what to do, then listen, you will find that voice of wisdom within.

  11. Kris, I don’t even know what to say. Coming off my own world having been rocked less than 2 weeks ago (and thank God it wasn’t so dire), all I can say is we’re holding space for you; for whatever you need to feel, say, do, be. Sending Reiki to you, the boys, your ex, that you are able to move through this time with as much grace and ease as humanly possible. I don’t think it’s an accident that you are going through A Course in Miracles right now. Sending love.

    1. candidkay says:

      I agree:). No accident. Thank you for all the kind thoughts. I truly appreciate them.

  12. I am keeping you and your entire family in prayer. I hope you are able to sleep. Rest in His providence and faithfulness. Rest is trust. He is close to the broken and binds their wounds.
    With love,
    Gabriela

    1. candidkay says:

      Thank you. What a beautiful way to put it.

  13. Speak and listen from your heart Kristine, as long as it is done with love it can only help you, your children and even your ex.
    Not an easy journey but by just ‘being there’ gives great strength to each other…and understanding.
    Love and light for you all on this journey.

    1. candidkay says:

      Thank you, Mark. As always, wise words from you.

  14. Sending you love and strength!

    1. candidkay says:

      Thank you! Truly appreciated.

  15. Amy says:

    Precious friend, my heart breaks with yours at this news and its implications. When storm winds blow, all any of us can do is hold tight. No tempest will ever uproot a heart as steadfast, loving, and true as yours. Somehow you will get through, moment to moment and day by day. Know that those of us who cherish you are with you in all the 2:00 a.m.’s – and every other hour of day or night, too…

    I love these quotes you’ve shared. They further illustrate just who you are– deep-rooted and deeply beautiful. Sending so much love~ ❤️ xxoo

    1. candidkay says:

      Your caring heart never ceases to amaze me. Thank you for helping me not just to hold tight, but to keep some flex in the wind.

  16. Charlie Ayers says:

    Kristine, as the father of four (4) now well-adjusted and happy young adults, I can tell you from this perspective that you are doing the right thing here. My wife and I have each respectfully “bitten our tongues” on many occasions regarding our kids’ other parents. Now that they are older and wiser, they understand why Mom & Dad didn’t stay together when they were young. You will never regret taking the high road, even at 2AM. Your boys are fortunate to have you in their corner.

    1. candidkay says:

      Oh, I love hearing from travelers who are farther down the road than I am. Thank you, Charlie. Trying to find the peace in all of this and knowing it comes, in large part, from my actions.

  17. Oh, this is awful. The cancer (obviously), but the sidelines and having to be a mom, a big girl through it all, makes it all the more heart aching. If it’s possible to find a favorite part in this post, mine was the bit about wanting to be a child again. I can so connect to that feeling, especially in the middle of the night. Stay right where you are, in the moment. No looking around for a while. Wishing you peace and quiet time with your boys.

    1. candidkay says:

      Oh, you pegged it. Having to put on the big girl pants. I will take your advice and tend to my own turf for now. Thanks, as always, for the kind words.

  18. You are stronger than you think. And you are not alone.

    1. candidkay says:

      Thank you for the reminder. Need to hold that one close.

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