Oh Yeah..Now I Remember

That yucky..blah feeling. A headache that rides on the edges of pain and throbbing....but not quite there yet. That fluttering in the stomach that is unsure of being hungry or just nauseous.

The day that comes from the night before.

Hello old feeling..buddy...pal. I can't say that I missed you ... not sure why I even invited you to the party.

Now I remember why I gave up drinking.

Peace.

Familiar Waiting

The beige sterile ways are surrounding me..the typical waiting room chairs...the smell of sickness and healing waft through the corridors. The faces of concerned family and lived ones are everywhere.

It's all familiar...not the same but almost. I try to protect my mind from going back to that day in March five years ago.

Did I just say that?
Five years ago??

I don't want to go back to those long days and nights when daddy had a heart attack and the nightmare began. Like my cousin's and uncle around me, I recognize the stunned look of fear mixed with faith. I pray for a successful outcome...and not the outcome we had so many years ago. I wouldn't wish that on anyone that I care about.

My aunt is in surgery now to repair a broken pacemaker. There are many odds against her. She is my mom's youngest sister.

Peace.

The Way We Were

I miss the way we used to be and the friendship we formed over lip liner in the driveway of your new home. I miss the part of us that would laugh and talk about the kids, jobs and life in general. We never were the 'hang out' kind of friends that included shopping and 'girl time'..but we were friends.
 I considered us close friends. Best friends.

Along the way we lost our way. Now, it's awkward. Like acquaintances without a history instead of who were used to be together. We are new people today....different...changed. Changed by life, circumstance. How did that happen? We dance on the surface of conversation, never knowing who is leading or what the steps are.

It's like we forgot how to dance. How to laugh. How to trust.

Just so you know - I notice it.

Peace

Tending to My Own Garden

I have a bad habit that needs to be broken.

I tend to tend to other people's business....I worry about the decisions they make, the debt they have, who they are sleeping with, where they are going, what their pet is doing, where their kids are and what they are doing, how their vacation is going, are they enjoying X.Y.Z.

When really....what others do is none of my damn business!

I guess I just want to take it upon myself to ensure that everyone is healthy, happy and essentially doing well.

Instead of using my time and nose on other people - I vow moving forward to not really give a rat's ass what they are doing. I don't care if my 'friend' is having an affair with her best friend's boyfriend... or that Betty & Joe just bought a new car...or if the folks down the road got a herd of cattle...or how such & such can afford to have their kitchen overhauled. I do not live their lives and what they do does not impact my life one ioda! I don't care what decisions people outside of my family make....And I need to just let my give a damn rest!!

It's time that I just S-T-O-P!! Just S-T-O-P!

My little circle of focus and care is small and getting smaller every day. All I need to do is spend my energies on my own home & family and let everyone else do their own thing....in their own way...on their own dime...and in their own time.

So....today I vow - No More!

Whew - I feel lighter already!

We're Moving!

We are moving.

A new house.

A new space.

A new town (maybe?).

A new "do over"!

The only problem is that we don't know when...we don't know where. We just know that we WANT to! "They" say making a decision is half the battle - so, we are half way there then!

We look around our home and we know that it has served it's purpose; but it's time to pack it in and move on. We are still a couple (at the most) years away from flight...but it's coming! Rich & I spend our spare time driving around looking at house, property, ideas. We scoure the real estate books, design websites and atlas. We are gearing up for something where we can put our ideas into shape... and we are excited to have a dream...and a goal.

Yep....we are moving (one day).

Peace!

Time to Cut & Run

I have a friend (no, really....I do), who I have considered a good friend, though not a CLOSE friend. Nonetheless, a friend. I respected her as a friend and have had the opportunity to 'be there' and help her when she has needed me; whether financially, emotionally or just a ride to the store.

So this friend - I have recently found out from said friend - has severely betrayed another friend. When I say SEVERELY, I mean she has engaged - is engaging - in an affair with the 10-year boyfriend/fiancee of one of her closest friends. When she told me about the 'relationship' she seemed very nonchalant about the whole thing and how her friend has upset with her now. Really? WTF? When I say they were close friends, I mean that they hung out together, traveled together, talked...they were like best friends. How does it happen that she can so easily burn her best friend by 'taking'her best friend's guy?

I cannot throw stones and wouldn't, but this really bothered me. Would I feel this way if she was dating (sleeping with) another seemingly married guy that is outside of her circle of close friends - I don't know. But right now I feel...different about her. I've made my share of bad choices but I have never encroached on the significant other of a friend...they are off limits F-O-R-E-V-E-R. It's in the handbook! Girlfriends just don't do that to their girlfriends.

I see her in a whole new light - like I don't even know this person at all....and I really don't want to continue my friendship with her. If she can so blatantly betray her closest friend...she would certainly throw me under the bus - not by sleeping with my husband (never in a zillion years would I be concerned about THAT), but I no longer feel trusting of her as a friend; even a friend at our current level.

It's sad...and....just....sad.

Peace.

The Just Like PB&J

My honey and I have been together pushing 17 years in May. It's been a long, sometimes bumpy, exhilarating ride over the years....yet, I have to clear that it's been truly wonderful. (go ahead and throwup at the 'cuteness'...it's okay...I understand).

He G-E-T-S me...he never wants me to be anyone other than who I am (maybe a little less messy at times, and he wants me to help him make the bed (his way) without rolling my eyes). Ummm...I'm sure he would want me to pick up my shoes off the closet floor and hang my clothes up on the hangers...oh, and not leave my hair stuff all over the vanity.

He loves that I am clumsy to a fault....that I have an extensive 'getting ready for bed' routine that keeps me looking beautiful  :)... He loves that I have to shave my legs every single day (and has done it for me on occassion when I couldn't do it for myself). He loves that I have little cute feet, and loves that I have a freckle on the side of one foot. He loves that have an infinate need for my eye brow pencils, lipstick, eye drops and kleenex 24 hours a day...7 days a week! He loves that life stops if I can't find (or forget to pack) my eye brow pencil, lipstick, eye drops or kleenex; to which he will stop at nothing to help me rectify an potentially dangerous event!  He loves that I dance like a 'white' girl with no rythum and groove whatsoever (you know you do!!!!). He loves that I love to read and crochet and that I can throw down party food with the best of caterers! He (secretly) loves that my body becomes a human fireball in bed, which makes for a very hot and sweaty sleeping experience. I think he even loves that I need help shopping for clothes in order to prevent a full-on ugly panic attack.

At any rate - he loves me and I am one lucky gal! We are PB&J, Eggs & Grits, Jack & Coke, Tea & Sugar, Moon & the Stars, Bacon & Everything......we go together.... we fit together.

I'm not sure what  did to get so lucky...or Blessed.

I'm not gonna question it!

Peace

I Can Finally Tell my Story...

I read a quote once upon a time that went like this:

"When you can tell your story without crying, you know you have healed"

For four years I couldn't tell my story with crying. I could get the story of the "after" me out without my heart gripping my chest and tears bursting out of me. I was a hot mess! Even when I sat alone...in my closet...on my stool, I would fall to pieces as I replayed my story in my own head. Gradually I was able to practice emotionally detaching myself from myself  - and talk about my loss and grief like it was the story of an outsider. I didn't wallow in it intentionally, although maybe sometimes it seemed that way - I was just so incredibly lost and the grief was familiar to me so I stayed there. Deep down I was afraid that if I let it go it mean that I let 'them' go.

A strange ephiphany hit me yesterday while driving home from my sister's house. I actually said the words - out loud - that it's over, I have healed. It's like stepping into a new world that has colors, and trees, and flowers. It felt like the taste of chocolate ice cream and smelled like Buttercups. I recognized the sheer joy of feeling...well, sheer joy...again.

Somehow and at some point the veil of grief fell away and I didn't even realize it was happening.

I think in some ways grief starts out like a heavy, black-out drapery (like at the fancy hotels) - light can't get in or out. Once the drapes are pulled there is a feeling of total isolation; its a safe place to be when nothing looks familiar anymore and you are completely lost. I stayed there for a couple of years until I was able to pull back the blackout drapery and keep the light-filtering curtain closed. I could peek out whenever I wanted to - and it suit me - but I always went back there. I lived in that room for a while.

It must have been slowly creeping open without me knowing it ~  because suddenly I felt as though I was awakened by the bright lights of the morning/mourning sun and the curtains were wide open. I raised my arms, took a deep breath and lifted my face to the warmth of the rays. I could see everything so bright and clear and I wasn't sad. I wasn't scared.

I know in my heart that I have finally pushed through to living life again....really living in the moments...in the light. I can't promise that I have cried my last tear for them..but they won't be filled with grief.

I have a story and I can tell it now.

Peace.

Every Day...Every Night.....

I was thinking yesterday - I KNOW......that's a dangerous thing for me to do, especially when I'm driving to work. It's like rubbing my head and patting my stomach at the same or walking and chewing gum at the same time....it can get pretty scary when I think!

But.... I was thinking yesterday about my kids. REALLY thinking about them. I revisited glimpses of their childhoods and who they are today; and where I hope they are in the future. I realized in those moments how extremely genuinely proud I am of them and how blessed Rich and I are by them every single day. How did we get so luck that we have the four amazing kids that we do. None of their lives were on a Norman Rockwell-level...far from idyllic - but in spite of us...they grew to be caring, loving, smart, funny, driven and responsible adults. Despite the screwing up, the long talks with tears that Rich and I cried at night, the fear that we would all need straight-jackets, anti-depressants and extensive therapy, and the mental exhaustion - our kids made it relatively whole. Maybe a few nics and scratches here and there...but they made it!

My heart is so full of love for our children...every day...every night.

That's my proud Mom moment!

Peace!

And The Beat Goes On

When the doctor laid first laid a little tiny person in my arms and told me I had to take him home with me....I was beyond scared. I was just a kid not far beyond my 18th birthday. I'd only had my driver's license for less than 2 years - I hadn't even voted yet. What if I broke him?

What were they thinking?

Yet, here it is almost 30 years later and he still has all of his major body parts. A scratch hear and there but relatively still intact. His sister came along two years later, and by then I thought I had it all fiigured out! How difficult could one more be? It didn't take long to find out - and it didn't take long to figure it out! She was, and always has been, a pistol and a half - her own person inside and out! She is still as beautiful as the day she was born - just a heck of a lot taller!

My husband gave me a son 17 years ago to care for - he was the cutest little bug at 7 years old when I met him at Walmart. Rich sure knew how to play the I've-got-a-cute-kid card along with the I'm-a-hard-working-single-dad card...I fell hook, line and sinker in love with both of them! Another benefit was another son on the west coast. I wouldn't meet him for several years later but my heart was already his and I hoped one day his would be mine.

It's been a marriage of ups and downs; mostly ups. Rich and I did our best to raise all of our children to be successful in their own right, responsible, loving & caring adults. We ended up doing just what we set out to do - or they ended up that way in spite of us.

Our youngest is getting ready to finally leave the nest and fly into his future with everything he has. As his mother I still see him as that little boy. Recently he was telling me about his plans and that it was time for him to follow his dream and go -  I caught myself for the first time looking at my son and realizing that he had grown up. He was an adult now...a grown man. How and when did that happen? Where did it all go?

The heartbeats that were once strong and loud when we were one big crazy family - the time when money was slim and we talked around the dining room table, had bonfires in the backyard, traveled together, and just lived....grow fainterwith each passing into adulthood. A sign that my husband and I have done the best we could with what we had...and most of the time all we had had was love beyond measure for our children. It's also a sign that we are getting older as they get older and half of our life is over. For now...our hearts continue to beat for the joy of seeing who our children have and are becoming; for the families they have and will have. It goes on - long after we are gone.

Peace.

The Long Way Home

Spending time over the weekend with my childhood best friend was ah-mazing. As we laughed and talked about the simple life in the sleepy little town of our youth, I walked away longing to go back Home.

Just one more time.

I want to pull into the driveway again and step up the rickety stairs on the side of  "the house" and walk into the Kitchen. I want to sit around the kitchen table with my mother and talk over gallons of coffee...to hear my daddy's commanding laugh over some ridiculous television show. I want to go back to my childhood and replay the years spent straddling the floor furnace to get warm on early school mornings - eight scrawny legs and one weenie dog lined up over the furnace to warm our buns.

I want to wait with legs crossed to use the one tiny bathroom; I want to stand in my bedroom door and watch my mother put on her makeup in the hallway mirror. To slid down the back yard hill when it snows; to sit at the top in the Spring when I wanted to be alone and contemplate life. I want to hang upside down from the front porch rails again, do cartwheels in the front yard, scourer the lawn for four-leaf clovers and lie on the front sidewalk and look at the star. My feet yearn to walk the path again to the rec center to swim in the summers, and to trod the familiar streets to school; to walk the through the rooms of that little house and feel the years, memories and sadness once again.

I want to relive the hugs, the kisses, the groundings, and a couple of the spankings (okay, maybe not so much that). I want to go fishing again with Daddy on Saturday and taste Mama's taco salad after church on Sunday. I want to feel their lips on mine as only a parent kisses their child.

I want to go back to that last Thanksgiving...that last month.

The house that raised me...that raised my children...that loved me.

I want those years back knowing what I know now. I won't take advantage of it - I will breath it in and wrap myself up in everything that house and those years had to offer. I would pay attention to the details and try my damnest to commit every single second to permanent memory.

Just.Once.More.

Back Home.

Peace.

The Sisterhood of Us

Miles...life...years...circumstance.

Those are the things that stood in the place of our our youth and our mid-adulthood. Yesterday I picked up an amazing woman that, although I feel as I've known her my whole life - we spent almost two hours in the car meeting, greeting and sharing. As we arrived at our destination, we had become best friends who share a best friend.

Here we were... three women bonded by friendship and the remembrance of innocence ...youth...history. Over wine, pizza, coffee and cheesecake we solidified the relationship we had longed for and needed. We laughed, we cried, we talked, we listened, we empathized/sympathized and opened wide the doors of honesty, pain and grief. My goodness...how cleansing that was! To speak without fear or judgement, to listen with honesty and compassion - to be truly heard and seen!

As the hours eased into a new day we took to our sleeping corners and rested. When the sun rose and the coffee brewed, we each found our way to our beautiful host's king-size bed where we laid for hours talking and laughing all over again. Three grown women - scarred by life's daggers but oblivious to messy hair, dark eye circles, weight, gray hair, wrinkles or cellulite. We were transformed into three giggly girls from 35 years ago - it was a beautiful 24 hours!

So, my friends...my sisterhood...my yaya's....I am changed by your friendship. Thank you!

Peace