Danger! War STILL In Progress

You think you are killing me. I think you are committing suicide. ~Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin

The progress was painfully slow. Despite a punctured heart, escalating blood pressure, blown-up brain and parched lips, advancement was agonizingly S-L-O-W.

The battle ground was changed to the National Library at our central. The environment was conducive but it didn’t make the war less grueling. By the end of the afternoon, it took all my willpower to keep my voice down and refrain from hurling the books onto the kids’ face.

Sensing that my temper was going to snap any moment, I ordered the gang to pack up and head home, hoping the walk back will help to clear my head. I underwent a shopping therapy along the way and was rewarded with a heavy load of toiletries. The hefty bag weighed my arm down tremendously but lifted my mood slightly.

After another mood-lifting pancake meal, I was once again ready to take on the one-to-one combat with Angel. Everything appeared to sail smoothly until she suddenly began to muddle up once more. The moment she started to falter, my irritation was set off. In the end, we were back to square one. The whole hour of teaching was all washed down the drain.

Just when I was fuming before a tearful Angel, the “prayer” my soul mate sent me that morning flashed in my mind,

“Dear God, I pray for:

Wisdom to understand my children;
Love to forgive them;
And Patience for their moods;
Because God, if I pray for Strength,
I'll beat them to death…”

It had come across as hilarious in the morning, but at that instant, it was an ironic portrayal of how I was feeling.

Shudder.