Bunny has a wonderful sense of humor, but she is also a sensitive soul. not really a paradox. just a quirk. Bunny gets her feelings hurt but she thinks it is all part of who she has become, the product of what life and people have done to her. but Bunny will never quit, or ever give up. she will keep praying and quietly living her tiny little life. she will continue being the fuzzy little Bun that she is.
she has written that she is damaged and some have told her she can heal. at this point, Bunny thinks some scars never fade no matter how much Vitamin E you rub on them, or cod liver oil. she has been told that there is the woman she can become with work. but what if this is the woman she was to become?
Bunny worries and wonders why she cannot find lots of friends. she does have friends online, and there is someone close. she does have a friend who is sort of local. she and Bun meet when they can, but Bun's job and this widow's responsibilities prevent that from happening too often. but Bun has friends. just not ones like she's always read about, or seen in movies and on television. but then she read a book by Madeleine L'Engle that SSSF sent her. in this book L'Engle writes, "who are you to think you are better than our Lord? after all He was singularly unsuccessful with a great many people." and it's true. He had his followers but did he have true friends?
Bunny has also read the blogs of other widows who have written that those they felt were their closest friends did not understand their grief, or said harsh and critical things to them that astounded them. words well meant, but with a tinge of betrayal in the empathy department. so Bunny feels she is in good company.
who is Bunny to think she was to become someone other than who she is? life happened to Bun just like it happens to all of us. maybe this isn't what God had truly hoped would happen, but it is what happened and Bunny has tried to handle it with grace, dignity, and faith in something better. that something better would be Heaven.
writing expels the poison that collects in Bunny's furry little soul. writing is like an exhale for her. she exhales all the bad stuff but yes, with the inhale sometimes some of the bad slips back in. but most of it is out and gone. bad things happened to Bunny, terrible things she can never make public. you would look at her differently. you, dear reader, might look into her soft little eyes and see the living pain of what she has endured and she would not be able to bear that. if you write, "bad things happened," it is so generic, and few will use their imagination to color that sketch. but if Bunny were to paint the whole picture, well, Bunny is not doing a public service announcement here. but do not pity her or tell her it is better to talk about it. {Bunny did try once last August but the widow looked at her so horrified that Bunny had to make a quick joke, then be on her hurried Bunny way. Bunny learned, oh, yes, Bunny learned not to talk.}
but Bunny has her fantasies. Bunny has the night and her dreams. she has her art, her children, and her Dragon. {and to the mean person who said Dragon wasn't a Dragon, Bunny pities you.} but she knows that "those who move through life in step with their peers, who are bright and beautiful, seldom become artists." ~ M. L'Engle. Bunny is an artist.
some days Bunny can almost breath. a lot of days she clenches her teeth and keeps going one step at a time. she has gotten rid of the problem with Voldemort. between her daughter's and her strategy, they ran the con and got done what needed to be done; motivating him to do something they needed him to do, something that only he could do for them. Bunny and her daughter smiled. now, true, their smiles were rueful, but they were smiles nonetheless. another chapter is about to close distancing him from her even more.
Bunny had an epiphany the other night. she realizes that she is starting to feel nothing for the people who hurt her, including the recent ones. she feels nothing. no anger. no need to tell them off. the hurt is fading like that exact moment when a firefly's glow fades. wink and it's out. telling the mean people off would never work for Bun. she knows that they are either truly evil or they are stupid and will never understand. it would be a pointless conversation.
Bunny is going to cling to the things that she has saved from the wreckage of her life. she has her creativity. she has her empathy. she has her children. she has her memories. she is going to float along here facing whatever wave life tosses over her. she is going to float along here until she goes to where she is called, needed, and/or wanted.
she has survived a lot and will continue to.
Bunny has taken this photo of herself to remind everyone of her resiliency. during the Salem Witch Trials, Giles Corey was accused of being a witch. they placed a board on him and put rocks on it to crush him, to force him to admit to his sins. he was innocent and refused. he said to his accusers, "more weight." Bunny doesn't want more weight, but she will take it and withstand it until her body, not her soul mind you, but just her homely, fuzzy, little body quits. know that as her soul leaves her broken body, she will be laughing. ah, blessed freedom.
Bun thinks their very nice. they don't smell though.
Bun thinks their very nice. they don't smell though.
