8 July 2012

I found Darien sitting in the nursery with Madison in arms and Abby getting ready to run a crawling race. She hasn't started yet, but it won't be long. Most people would be surprised to see how is he with them. He's not the snarky, smart mouthed journalist with our daughters. He's just Da, sitting with his girls. He changes diapers, walks the floor, and does all those things every good father should. He might argue as to whether or not good applies, I'll knock the lights out of anyone that says he isn't!

Given all that has happened, I believe Dare finds solace and comfort in being with our girls. We have that baby monitor contraption in the bedroom and I awoke to hear him singing. Maybe singing isn't the right word, Darien was uttering something nonsensical and off key to the babies! I didn't recognize the language, Aboriginal, perhaps? And only we might ever know! That is probably a good thing, though. Wouldn't want some folk to think he's gone soft and ruin his bad boy image. The girls were laughing and that is good. There are few sounds as beautiful to the ear as a child's happy laughter.

I think it's time to learn to swim. I know now why I never learned despite never having had an actual fear of water. Soon would be a good time for that trip to Arcadia. I already sent a cleaning crew out to spruce up our place there. I wonder what he'll say to that ....and, when we get there, to my request for swimming lessons.

15 October, 2012

They took all their samples, did all their tests, and still they search for answers. I cannot help but think that there's far more to this than what I was told. Even with so many questions still unanswered, it is time to let her rest. We have taken time away from the world to grieve what was lost and what will never be. We will bury her, say our goodbyes, and wonder what might have been.

Ever since my memories came flooding back, I've been sorting out things in my head and have gone back into analysis. This is so I can have impartial ears to listen. Family is wonderful as are friends, but often instead of being impartial based on what is happening, they sometimes extrapolate it into what they think is happening. That can lead to trouble and hard feelings.

I need to spend more time with Ariana. Of all the people I know, she understands the full impact of so many things that have happened to me. She's walked in the shoes of having lost husbands in some manner. I don't know if she has suffered the loss of a child. It's a subject that I don't think we've ever brought up. It is, perhaps, that some things are better left unsaid. Then again, Ariana and I often say more to each other in a silent moment than most people did in hours of chattering.

We are preparing for autumn and winter holidays. The children have been taught to respect the customs of others. Halloween with its costumes, the giving of treats and dishing out of tricks, has become a holiday for children. They often do not know the roots of it involve the veil between the living world and that of the dead being thin on that night. It is a celebration of the end of summer and, to some, a new year. Costumes and jack-o-lanterns have their beginnings in attempting hide from or among the dead and to ward off evil spirits. Bonfires are lit, just as they are on Beltane. Ages ago, the fires had sacred meaning, still do to many. These days, however, I think the significance of fire and its ability to purify are lost in favor of the fact that the fire drives away nuisance insect life from the party goers.

The past year has been very hard on us. Well, not the year itself, but the events that happened. Some days, I feel like I'm in a state of limbo or purgatory. I have done my best to atone for my own wrong doings and sins. I have never liked that theory about the sins of the father or my case, the mother, coming down upon the children. It is much like the belief that children are born with what?s called original sin. Such folly it is to place such a weight upon the soul of an innocent. Those are the same people that wish to not just disregard, but destroy the sacred feminine. Calling the cleansing blood of the womb unclean; it's ridiculous.

Abby is a happy, healthy, nine month old. Having been six weeks early, she's a little behind according to the so called normal standards. She's already crawling, but started scooting along in a frog like fashion. Perhaps it's her way of compensating so Maddie can keep up with her. Odds are Abby will end up a bit taller than her younger sister.

She likes listening to stories. Seems to enjoy our Maggie's voice very much. That could be because unlike Mum and Da, Maggie has no reservations about adding a touch of magic to things and bringing the characters to life on a small scale. The stage is often the palm of her small hand.

This visual method of storytelling also gets and keeps Madison's attention for longer periods of time. It was this reaction and behavior that set off a niggling little voice in the back of my mind. While both girls babble away, Abby seems to imitate more sounds than Maddie. I've set up a consult with a pediatric audiologist at Riverview. We'll have answers soon enough.

Ever since I was, for lack of a better word, recovered, I have made sure that Darien is sent any reports on the girls? progress and/or problems at their medical appointments. Should anything else happen, he'll be prepared on that front.

Internal Monologue - March 2014

I don't know what happened. My last clear memory was of being with Darien in front of his old penthouse. I've been told that I was at the Winterfest Ball, but I don't have a clear memory of that. Nor do I recall Christmas Eve dinner with the family. Was I there for Abby and Madison's birthday or our wedding anniversary' I don't know.

I remember coming to life, for lack of a better phrase, in Italy. Rome to be precise. I was awakened by a call from emissaries of the Vatican. It was with regard to several of the children's charities that the MacLeod Foundation supports.

By some miracle, I did have luggage with me. In the garment bag was my all purpose black suit and a choice of shells and blouses. I suppose that's a good thing since some articles of clothing are simply not suitable for dealing with religious bigwigs. To top it off, I wore a black picture hat with a bow and red rose. While the rules regarding women wearing head coverings to mass have gone lax over the years, I have always felt more comfortable wearing a hat or mantilla. Red hair can be distracting to some people.

When the meeting was concluded, I headed back to my hotel. I shuffled through my travel documents, photos, and other papers. Nothing, not a sign of any messages from Darien among them. That encounter at the penthouse, was this why I was blocking it' I remember angry words being exchanged and him leaving me. Was that what really happened"

I've considered returning to visit my psychiatrist. I feel like I did when there were holes in my memory and I was trying put the puzzle of my life back together.

Perhaps, the most telling thing of all of this is that I did not know where Abby and Madison were when I returned home. Darien didn't mention any knowledge of their whereabouts when I saw him for a few fleeting moments as I was passing through the city on my way home. Had I left of my own accord, I would not have had to search for them. If Darien had known where they were, he would not have kept it from me. Despite our differences, he would never be that cruel. Then again, the accusation I made was nothing less than the cruel. Have I lost all faith in him"

I don't fully understand the particulars, but our girls have been in the care of Rhiannon and Eregor since just around Christmas. In fact, they are still there as I suspect they are safer in the tower for the time being. Max, who has always been more Darien's dog than mine, is also in good hands. He's being staying on Harkers' Island and was entrusted to Maggie. I expect she has both spoiled him and taught him a few things.

I want and need answers. My sanity was finally recovering after the abduction and its aftermath. Now, this? I'd ask what else can go wrong, but at this rate, it could be the crack that can no longer be glued.