WOOO HOOO!!!

At the risk of jinxing this whole thing I will make a bold declaration and say - I just mailed the last tuition check for son! If all goes well and he does what he's supposed to do, he'll graduate in May with a BS in Computer Science... hopefully he'll get a job and become a productive member of society and stop being a drain on my pocketbook - hey... a momma can dream - can't she?

Stay tuned... hopefully in May I can post pictures of the boy in a cap and gown - that is if I didn't jinx the whole thing with this post. Superstition anyone? AND if he graduates he'll do so without any debt... I was determined to make that happen... it was one of my goals and I'm pretty darn happy about being able to accomplish that... feels like a gift I've given him... one he's not quite grasped the enormity of yet - but that's ok... he will one day. Wow... feels like just one more chapter to go, the last chapter, which will be set on a Saturday morning in May on the coast of South Carolina on a (hopefully) bright, beautiful day. There will be smiles and tears and pride... so much pride I know I'll feel like I will burst... and then the book will be finished.

There will be more to come in his life- a whole new book to write... a job and a wedding and buying a house and children and more, so much more - but those will be accomplishments he achieves separate from me... pages to fill with his own dreams and hopes and joys and tears - the way it's all supposed to be. His graduation - now that is the ending to a tale started once upon a time... a story of love set in motion on a hot May day almost 22 years ago... a day when a perfect little blue eyed, red headed baby boy slipped quietly into my life and changed me forever.

Long Gone

A funny new phenomenon this year has been an assertion by some folks, including my father, that my ex will one day come crawling back professing what a mistake he made... begging forgiveness... ingratiating himself to me once again... looking to recapture what he lost. I (personally) don't see it happening. For all my ex does not know about me there is one thing he does... once I'm done with something, I'm done. It may take me a long time to give up on something... on someone... it may be a slow, deliberate process but once I've made up my mind that's it... I'm over it. I may revisit it on occasion in the clandestine recesses of my mind but I won't ever tell you that... you'll never know.

Maybe that's a bad thing... a bad way to be... I'm not really sure. Maybe it has something to do with pride... I'll be the first to admit I have a tad of a prideful streak (and those of you out there who think you know me just hush, I can hear you laughing). But honestly I don't think that's it... I think it's more that I learn... I think I turn over every leaf... every stone... explore every corner and nook and cranny to find the answer... find the solution... and sometimes I discover it's just not there... sometimes there is no rhyme or reason... and so, sometimes, the only course of action is to let it go. I think that's what I do... let go. I don't just coldly and callously turn my back on someone who needs me... but there are people in this life you just can't continue to emotionally invest in... people you can't continue to waste valuable energy trying to reach.

It's painful to let go... and often times as I let the remnants of what was slip through my fingers I wonder if I'm making some mistake, wonder if I'm being too capricious... which always, always messes with my head - sets me back. But I guess my point is I never ever come to this place on a whim... it's not the result of a laundry list of wrong doings or misdeeds... I don't keep score. But there comes a point, a place of awareness, when I realize it's me or them... it's my sanity or their games... and it becomes a matter of saving myself. I think that's what my ex understood about me... that regardless of everything else I am a survivor - and I think he recognized that in me before I did in myself.

Long Gone...

"Props" to Me

Today I worked at church. It's a pretty good little job and I enjoy it immensely. The secretary substitute thing started a few years ago after I taught the secretary how to use Microsoft Publisher. She had previously used Word do to the weekly newsletter and the Sunday bulletin but, of course, found it to be rather "unforgiving" when it came to placing things and I suggested using Publisher. She said she wanted to but really wasn't too sure about all the ins and outs and asked if I would show her, so one day I did and she never looked back! It was about that time the church session voted to pay an official "sub" for her when she had to be out - someone who could come in and work on the bulletin and newsletter and they asked me. I was flattered - still am - that they trust me, trust my abilities, and prefer having me there to most others... it's a nice atmosphere to work in... I feel quite competent when I'm there.

I worked on the newsletter until about 1:30 and then another lady came in to answer the phones for the afternoon. We chatted for a little while and she, as I've discovered most people tend to do, grew bolder and asked me about the divorce... more specifically about the kids and how much they saw their dad. I answered her... I'm not afraid to give honest, straightforward answers to the questions people ask me. It seems that most people seem to "get" the fact the ex is not well... that there is an underlying mental illness that has played some part in the choices he's made and therefore the demise of our marriage. We talked more... she complimented me on the kids and how well they seem to be doing... she commented on how strong I must be, she said I was a tried and true "steel magnolia" - but in truth I don't really see it like that. I simply did what I had to do... I simply knew I had no other choice but to pick myself up and forge ahead... if I didn't do it no one else was going to... it wasn't all about me... it was about the kids - and while I could have very easily laid down and given up I knew if I did I condemned them to giving up too... I couldn't do that.

It's nice to hear compliments - affirmations from the outside for all the work I've done on the inside. It's a constant reminder of how far I've come... how I've left behind the bitter unhappy woman of a few years ago and how I don't want to ever go back to being her again. There is really still so very much left to do though. This year has felt like a year of "maintenance" for me - a year of holding my own after all the growth of the previous few years. At some point I'll need to pick up again and inch ever closer to being that person I truly want to be... I pray I have the stamina to do it. So props to me I guess... I've come this far... I can go farther still - yes? We'll see!

Christmas Music

Merry Christmas one and all... I hope the next few days are full of love and joy, peace and hope and my Christmas wish is we all keep that feeling - that state of mind - thoughout the coming year!

I was taking a shower and singing Christmas tunes... here are a few of my secular favorites...

Last Christmas - cheesy I know but hey, sometimes ya gotta love cheese!

All I Want For Christmas - I posted this one before but hey - I like it... it's my blog... ya get the drift.

White Christmas - I actually got to see some snow this year - what a thrill walking down 5th Avenue while the snow came down... the lights of the city... all the people... that's the most "Christmas" I've felt in a lot of years

Mele Kalikimaka - Christmas Vacation anyone?

Please Come Home For Christmas - my mom's all time favorite - makes me think of her.

So there you have it - I'm off... enjoy the day!

Edited to add this one... Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas One and All

But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart.

Luke 2:19

I've written about this verse before - and of course it's that time of year when that verse is often quoted... I was reminded of it again this weekend during our New York trip. Watching my daughter experience her first plane ride... watching her awe of the city... watching her marvel over the Lion King and the Rockettes... watching her face light up when the snow started falling on her as we walked the streets... it all gave me things to treasure and ponder in my heart.

The trip started out miserably - we missed our flight... we were there for the flight, all be it a little later than I would have normally been there... the fog was horrible that morning and made driving slower.... but we were there in time. We got shuffled into a line that was supposed to speed us along but what ended up happening is the line stalled... just stopped, and we ended up standing there - with three other of our traveling companions for 25 minutes - we were 4th in line. The other lines kept moving but we didn't - and then before we knew it we had missed the 30 minute window... and were told we couldn't continue to our flight, in essence we were screwed - we then spent the next few hours trying to get some help form the airline to get us on another flight. The weather got bad and they began limiting how many people they would put on a flight. We finally boarded a plane at 8:30... sat on the runway for another hour and then arrived in NY at 11:30. Oh... and we had no luggage the whole weekend. So it was eventful to say the least. We managed it though... and in truth did very well - daughter did very well. She had one tiny little meltdown and cried a little but she composed herself and kept moving. We met some really nice folks while there and while some of the airline workers were rude and incompetent we met some other wonderful people willing to help us and make it work. It was definitely an experience and I think it taught both her and me that we can do most anything.

So tomorrow is Christmas Eve... I have a few more gifts to wrap... all my baking is done... and perhaps I'll get some nice, restful sleep before tomorrow morning. We will eat a nice prime rib dinner with my parents and my brother and his family - watch the kids open gifts, laugh a little and enjoy the day. If time allows the kids and I may go to Christmas Eve service and then home for the evening. I'm not doing the whole "Santa" thing this year. Neither of the kids really is excited about it - they have gifts, all wrapped and under the tree and then I'll have there stockings as their big surprises. The NYC trip was really daughter's big gift this year... and she's fine with that. Christmas morning we'll go over to the (ex) in laws for a brunch.

I hope all my lovely, loyal readers and friends have a wonderful holiday! I am truly blessed to have some great people in my life...

NYC

Sunday of Love

This is the third Sunday in Advent - the Sunday of Love. I've written about love before - written about my cynicism and doubt... and I have a feeling what I'm about to write will be in contrast to that... this is probably a momentary glitch in my typical negative Nelly approach to love and if you try to point this out to me later I will deny it - and if you point to this blog and say, "See - you wrote this" then I will feign ignorance and concoct some sort of plausible deniability - aliens took over my body and wrote it, it wasn't me.... or... it was the cold meds....

I wrote about one music box I had when I was little - the one that plays Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head... well I had another... it was round and it had the little Peanuts characters on the top and it played What the World Needs Now Is Love Sweet Love. There is a line in the song about how we need love not just for some but for everyone... and I like that idea - don't think it's truly what happens... it's a nice thought though. But I do think love is what makes living life worthwhile... I think love adds the flavor and texture to an otherwise dull and listless existence. I don't just mean romantic love - there are all types of love and I think each of them is crucial. I love my children, I love my family, I love my friends. I love a chai latte from Starbucks and the sound of rain on the roof. I love the sight of snow blanketing the lawn on a silent early morning and the sting of the sun on a hot afternoon at the beach. Love can be found anywhere and in anything if we keep ourselves open and aware.

Loving one's self is the key - the seed. It grows... blooms... flourishes... and it leaves a mark on every single thing we touch. Being kind to ourselves makes it possible to be kind to others. Being patient with ourselves makes it possible to be patient with others. Loving ourselves makes it possible to love others. It just doesn't work otherwise. If the seed we plant is something other than love then all we do, all we attempt, is blackened and distorted. It's an exhausting garden to tend... it feels like a chore.

Love shouldn't be a chore - it should be effortless... simple. Yeah yeah yeah I know... loving someone takes work... it does... I'm not saying it doesn't I'm just saying it should be enjoyable work - work with a purpose... a higher purpose. I look at my children and I see the higher purpose in loving them. They are gifts... gifts from God - entrusted to me for this time here, my job being their health and welfare... to help them grow into loving people. I work to give them the tools they need, show them how to use those tools and then let them go. I plant the seed of love in them... show them how to nurture it for themselves and hopefully they will spread that love to others.

I think love is crucial in this life... I think it's the whole point. I think when we find love - love born of that seed inside of us - we have to nurture it, embrace it, appreciate it as a beautiful thing - a sunflower growing wild and large and colorful. People say love is complicated and life is messy. Perhaps. I just can't shake this feeling that it's not supposed to be. Yeah things happen in life that aren't pleasant - and we have decisions to make everyday - some pleasurable and some not... but I think loving someone transcends all that... and I think when you can find a love - a hand that you can hold - then it's imperative to keep it close to your heart.

And remember, I reserve the right to deny I said all this...

Sunday of Peace

It's the Sunday of Peace - two candles lit on the advent wreath... two Sundays closer to the end of waiting - ever closer to the blessing of Christ. It's a constant renewal... a yearly privilege to reflect on the darkness, the loneliness, the isolation. The hard part is to remember this early reflection as a privilege... to remember there is a promise of light... a promise of a blessing. It's there... I've seen it, but only fleeting glimpses... just enough to keep me waiting, anticipating longer. I remind myself that the time of deliverance isn't known...

The challenge becomes staying focused - an awfully hard thing to do when you're in the grips of the dark desolation of night. I pray for hope - a constant replenishment. I pray for peace - a soft settling of the soul. I sob in the shower and then chastise myself for my weakness and shortsightedness - for my lack of faith. I wonder - wonder if that's why... wonder if the struggle is because I question... wonder if the darkness and pain are because I doubt. Is this what keeps me in the dark, prevents me from walking into the light?

I don't know the answers... I don't know that right things to do. I used to think, when my ex was so ill and drifting farther and farther away - that if I could just find the right "formula," the right sequence of words, some magic incantation to say - that if I could just figure it all out then it would be ok... and the truth was I was looking for the impossible... something that didn't exist... because I had no control over any of it... and I have very little control over any of this now. It is all just what it is....

But I keep searching. And I keep wondering. And I wish I knew how to lay it all down and leave it there. I'm so tired of losing things in my life - losing people. There is a line in a song that says how many times can I break til I shatter... and I wonder that... wonder how many more times. I just want peace. I pray for peace... and I wait. I don't know what else to do.

Christmas Yet To Come

"'I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come?' said Scrooge.

The Spirit answered not, but pointed downward with its hand.

'You are about to show me shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us,' Scrooge pursued. 'Is that so, Spirit?'

The upper portion of the garment was contracted for an instant in its folds, as if the Spirit had inclined its head. That was the only answer he received.

Although well used to ghostly company by this time, Scrooge feared the silent shape so much that his legs trembled beneath him, and he found that he could hardly stand when he prepared to follow it. The Spirit pauses a moment, as observing his condition, and giving him time to recover.

But Scrooge was all the worse for this. It thrilled him with a vague uncertain horror, to know that behind the dusky shroud there were ghostly eyes intently fixed upon him, while he, though he stretched his own to the utmost, could see nothing but a spectral hand and one great heap of black.

'Ghost of the Future!' he exclaimed, 'I fear you more than any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose is to do me good, and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart. Will you not speak to me?'

It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straight before them.

'Lead on,' said Scrooge. 'Lead on. The night is waning fast, and it is precious time to me, I know. Lead on, Spirit.'"

Christmas Present

“'Come in!' exclaimed the Ghost. 'Come in! and know me better.'

Scrooge entered timidly, and hung his head before this Spirit. He was not the dogged Scrooge he had been; and though the Spirit’s eyes were clear and kind, he did not like to meet them.

'I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,' said the Spirit. 'Look upon me!'”

Parade Saturday and the 2008 Christmas Tree

Christmas Past

"'Are you the Spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold to me.' asked Scrooge.

'I am.'

The voice was soft and gentle. Singularly low, as if instead of being so close beside him, it were at a distance.

'Who, and what are you.' Scrooge demanded.

'I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.'

'Long Past?' inquired Scrooge: observant of its dwarfish stature.

'No. Your past.'"

Last December - Carol of the Bells

Wishes...

All I Want For Christmas Is You

Sunday of Hope

Today marked the first Sunday in Advent. The sanctuary was decorated, the chrisom tree lit and the first purple candle on the Advent wreath illuminate by a family in our congregation.

Things had been going well here... life clipping along, forward momentum achieved... and then it all just stalled out, life on hold - waiting, waiting, waiting. While in church today and then while chatting with a friend I was reminded of what is taking place over the next few weeks - reminded that there is a purpose, a comfort, in the reflection and preparation that can occur if we only clear our minds and focus. I remembered I had written the following at some point during the past year so I've resurrected it - it's a good reminder for me... especially right now. At the time I wrote it I was thinking in terms of a relationship, and while that's still part of it there really is more to the story than that... so...

Perhaps this is my season of Advent too...

The word advent comes from the Latin adventus which means 'coming.' In church during the Christmas season we spend the four Sundays prior to Christmas Eve celebrating Advent. We wait... we watch... we prepare. We know something wonderful is coming. Each Sunday we light a candle. Each Sunday we reflect on a different emotion, a different state of mind, a different attitude: Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love. By focusing on these things we ready ourselves for the wonderful gift of Christ.

So maybe this is what I am doing - readying myself for the wonderful gift that is to come my way. The only snag is not knowing exactly what that gift is supposed to be. If it is what my heart desires then it is a life, a relationship, a family, that can be shared. In all honesty I don't think I am meant to be alone. I don't think I am wired for it. I like being in a relationship. I've been on my own for a long time.... I can do it, I am used to it, but it doesn't mean I like it. I do feel like something is missing in my life - not from a reference point that I need a man to make my life whole... but I do want someone with whom I can share my life - the hope, the joy, the love, the peace. Don't worry, I am not going to run out and pick up the first bubba who pays any attention to me though. I know what I want from a relationship - I know what I don't want - and I refuse to settle for any less now. But the fear still remains that I will be alone - a mentality that says to me I never really ever get what I truly want - a mentality that I am destined to have this happiness forever out of my reach.

Therefore my Advent Season has begun I suppose. Maybe if I focus on hope and peace, on joy and love, then perhaps I will be preparing myself for the gift to come my way. It's ok to anticipate it... it's ok to dream about it, long for it even. But the trick, as I see it, is to not get bogged down in it. Preparing doesn't mean sitting stagnant. Preparing means moving forward... gathering the tools and the supplies needed to enjoy and appreciate the gift when it arrives. I like thinking about it like this - I like thinking in terms of hope and peace, in terms of joy and love. I like thinking that focusing on those things, preparing my mind and heart with those emotions can do nothing but serve me well when the time comes. The gift I receive will be met with the gift I have to give.

I Am Woman

Outward beauty is not enough; to be attractive a woman must use words, wit, playfulness, sweet-talk, and laughter to transcend the gifts of Nature ~ Petronius

I've been thinking a lot lately about what it means to be a woman. This thought, this question, has been the last residue of the gunk I've been carrying around from my ill fated marriage... it's the last wound yet to heal - perhaps because it's the deepest most critically placed one. Somewhere in all the lies and manipulation and neglect I lost my womanhood. In my mind I became a type of androgynous 500lb bearded lady circus freak - a funny image I know but that's what I saw when I looked in the mirror. It didn't matter how perfectly I put on my makeup - it didn't matter what clothes I wore - it didn't matter how I wore my hair. It didn't matter that down deep inside of me where all good things are supposed to matter I was a good person. It didn't matter I was witty and smart. It didn't matter I was loving and kind and patient. It didn't matter I could be sassy and flirty. It didn't matter I could cook a fantastic dinner or raise good kids or make love with my whole heart. Nothing I did, nothing I was mattered or made a difference. He rejected me anyway - that potentially fatal wound to the heart

There is in every true woman's heart, a spark of heavenly fire, which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity, but which kindles up and beams and blazes in the dark hour of adversity ~ Washington Irving

He just plain didn't desire me. For years, probably the last four of our marriage, sex became a near non existent thing in our relationship. We'd try - or I should say I would initiate... and nothing would happen. He just physically wouldn't/couldn't respond. I would smile and say it was ok, that I understood - a pain stabbing into my heart, a pain I hid from him. I'd go back to my celibate existence... waiting for the right moment - the perfect opportunity to try again. Months would pass and I'd think surely it would be ok. Surely he'd be able to and then we'd go through the whole scene again. He'd say nothing worked - not solo, not movies, not magazines - it isn't you he'd say it was him... and once again I'd smile and offer reassurances - all the while feeling less and less attractive and sexy - little pieces of me falling away and dying....

A really plain woman is one who, however beautiful, neglects to charm ~ Edgar Saltus

So there I am left: neglected, abandoned, discarded, confused. I'd never really been told I was beautiful - not by my family, not by my husband. I've always tried with my own children to compliment them on their appearance - to tell them they are handsome or pretty - to express it as a matter of fact. No one should ever grow up not believing in their own attractiveness. I remember the first time someone said I was beautiful. I had taken my baby daughter for one of her checkups and the doctor had just finished examining her - she was sitting on my lap and he was holding her hand and he just very reverently said, "She's very beautiful..." and then he looked up at me and softly said, "...just like her mother." That was new to me. If people before had ever considered me attractive they'd never told me. It was unfamiliar territory for me and I think I stammered a "why thank you" in reply. He may have just been being polite - but there was something in the way he said it that made me feel he meant it - and it made me feel beautiful. I've never forgotten it... not the words or the look or the feeling. It's amazing what a profound impact something so simple can have on someone.

Man loves little and often, woman much and rarely ~ Giorgio Basta

So by the time my ex husband comes home and decides he needs time for himself - needs to live alone and separate on a more permanent basis, I am already on the edge... already doubting myself and questioning my attractiveness... wondering what's wrong with me... feeling like less than a woman - feeling like nothing really - feeling like a husk, a shell. I'm lonely, in dire need of physical touch that's paired with an emotional connection. I'm empty. And then I find out the truth; I discover in a very undercover, clandestine way that my poor impotent husband was, in fact, having an affair. It wasn't him... it wasn't him at all - it had never been him. He was capable - very capable - of having sex... of, forgive my crudeness, getting it up. It was, actually, in fact me! It had been me all along - he could only lie beside me limp and unresponsive because he didn't find me attractive. It was then the transformation was complete... I'd officially become the most ufuckable person on the face of the earth.

Women are meant to be loved, not to be understood ~ Oscar Wilde

It's been two and a half years since he left, a year since the divorce, and I'm still carrying around this shit. I've slowly reclaimed much of my life but this, this is the trouble spot for me. I still carry this around - sometimes I look in the mirror and I still see the shadow of the 500lb bearded lady circus freak staring back at me. She just won't completely go away... she taunts me, tells me I'll always be alone, always be unlovable, always be unattractive, always be unworthy. She saps my strength and keeps picking at the wound and that's why it doesn't ever heal. I have to find a way to shut her up... send her back to the sideshow with all the other freaks - banish her skanky ass once and for all. Any ideas?

I will never be the woman with the perfect hair, who can wear white and not spill on it ~ Sex and the City ~ Spoken by character Carrie, played by Sarah Jessica Parker

I'm an exceptional woman and I am flawed... and it's within those flaws, those imperfections, that I attain the unique essence that is me. I can be such a silly little goober... I have quirks and little habits - sometimes funny, sometimes annoying, but all me. There are many qualities that make me, as a human being, a great person. I know I have value... something I've worked hard to rediscover - I've practiced a lot in the mirror, Stuart Smalley style, "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and, doggonit, people like me!" And in a funny little pitiful way it's worked. I no longer doubt myself like I did... no longer question my who I am or what I want or where I want to go. I know all these things now... but one thing still remains elusive and out of my reach...

When a woman is openly bad she is then at her best ~ Latin Proverb

There is this other side to me... or really this other component to who I am and it's all tied up in being, essentially, a woman, and expressing that and exploring what it all means. I am a coquette - a flirty little tease... and I love that part of me but she's been lost...There is such a bad girl inside of me... she wants out and I don't know how to unlock the door - she's so fragile, so breakable - and I don't know how to let her grow and explore and thrive without shattering into a million pieces. What if the next hurt can't be healed? What if the next hurt does her in? Then the rest of who I am is lost too. She doesn't trust her beauty or her attractiveness. She doesn't know if it's real or a falsehood - it might all be just pretty words said to soothe and placate her. She's felt so damned disposable and what she truly fears is that she really might, in truth, actually be... she might actually be worthless as a woman... she might actually be the most unlovable, unfuckable freak on the planet. That fear is what lurks... hovers in the back alley of my mind...

The great question that has never been answered and which I have not yet been able to answer, despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul, is "What does a woman want?" ~ Sigmund Freud

I could have told good ol' Sigmund the answer - I've talked about it before here. A woman simply wants to be cherished. She wants to know that who she is - in her totality as a woman - is loved, appreciated, desired. It's not about being appreciated to be complete... it's about an already complete woman being accepted and valued for just that - being complete. I want someone to be able to see me - ME - and find that sensual and alluring, comforting and kind, witty and wonderful. I want to look into someone's eyes and see me reflected in them... not his reflection of me. This is the last frontier for me... the last vestige of healing - but maybe this part of me has been the biggest causality in the war. Maybe it's lost to me forever... perhaps I'll never know how it feels to be cherished above all others... cherished in the only way a woman can be by the man she loves - the man who loves her.

So there it is done... my day long blog entry...

As Long As You're Mine...

Here...

It's been a cold, quiet, wet day... a hard rain occasionally breaking the silence with an urgent pelting at the window. It's Friday... a day to sigh, breathe out, unwind. I'm tired and anxious for sleep - a respite from the running of the week, thankful for being able to end on another high note - a soft success....

I've been feeling differently lately... perhaps it's the work, the movement, the concentration. I've found a point of peace, a place that seems sustainable. I don't have all I want - the job is taking a little longer to procure than I had hoped and I still feel like I have some things I have to juggle. But I've settled into something... I don't think it's a resignation... I don't think I've given up... I've sorta let go of some stuff, but other stuff still lurks - I'm not so much afraid of the lurking stuff anymore - I think I was but I've somehow come to a place where I figure it all has to have a point - a purpose - and maybe, perhaps, I'm just too tired to stress over it now. Who knows? I sure don't. Anyone else?

I think, maybe, I've let go of the urgency. A year ago I wanted it all fixed - I'd been through the hell, I'd survived it and I guess I figured I'd earned my stripes, so to speak. I'd have these conversations with God - they'd go something like this: Ok God... I did it, it's hurt - but I did it, I've faced it, I've kept moving forward even though I just wanted to stop and crawl into a ball... so now, God, I'm ready... I'm ready for all the good... I'm ready for the blessings ... so bring 'em on (head back, eyes closed, arms outstretched). And then nothing (one eye slyly peeking open). Ok... deep breath (eyes closed tightly again). And still nothing... but I don't feel that way anymore - oh I'm still waiting - and slowly things have happened... blessings appearing... fog lifting - the road ahead of me a little clearer... but it's all not there yet - not yet in crisp, vibrant focus. The difference now may be that I'm not "actively" waiting.... I'm no longer Linus sitting in the pumpkin patch, cold and shivering in the dark of night. I've come in to wait in the relative warmth and comfort of a sheltering place.

I admire all those people who've been able to just proactively find what they've wanted. Those folks who've been able to just set their minds on something and make it happen. It's not been that easy for me. I'm not sure why - perhaps there is a reason, perhaps my moment's not arrived yet. And I am happy for all those who've found it... I really am. It's hard being the one left behind though. It's hard knowing that wonderful exists... knowing it's out there but being unable to wrap my arms around it, unable to touch it, unable to settle into its warmth - it's hard knowing it's waiting for me too, longing for me, missing me. There has to be grander plan... if I don't hold onto that - if I don't have that faith then I'm sunk... I'll drown - and I can't do that now... not now. It's been much too long and hard a road.

I was so caught up in holding what I never thought I'd find...

Rambling...

On My Own...

Once upon a time I watched a show on television ... I was a teenager... it was a weekend - a Sunday maybe... and this movie came on television... it was Les Miserables and I remember just being enthralled. And yes I know, yes I've been told I must - MUST - see the it on the stage and I hope to one day. My hope is that one day someone who loves it will share it with me... it's a nice thought huh? I have lots of nice thoughts... as thoughts tend to do they stay safely tucked inside my head... safely locked away -unrecognized by the outside world. They live and survive and thrive in a quiet and soft cocoon - unaffected and unaware of distance and logic - reality and responsibility and priority. My thoughts believe anything is possible... they believe goodness always triumphs... they believe love is the greatest gift of all.

I've felt strange lately. Busy... which has been good... I like being busy - which has surprised me some but I like the movement and the purpose. I see and realize this could take over my life... which is something I feared at one time - I feared having something outside me become so time consuming but right now I don't see any other way... I have to do this. I only have to make sure I keep my daughter the center and the rest is up for grabs...

It's late... I'm not very eloquent in speech tonight. Sorry. I will be all by my lonesome Friday so perhaps I can find something more poetic to say... sweet dreams...

Election Day

I voted. I had played with the idea of not voting - didn't really see it as mattering much... I know I know... please no lectures. There was a time in my younger days I would have railed at myself for saying and thinking and feeling that but I am older now - more cynical about life and government and choices and people. But ultimately I decided to vote. I took daughter to school (yeah she had school today - so much for private schools and their choices) and then I went - no make up - sweat pants - wearing red and blue (which I promise was not planned). It wasn't what I would call crowded but it was steady. So I did it - my patriotic duty... God Bless America.

I won't discuss my choices... not sure who I voted for is really an important matter for this blog. There was one race I left blank... just couldn't bring myself to vote for a state senator running unopposed... not when he's the kind of person who feeds a mentality here in the South that does nothing but bastardize a pride in heritage. I mean he looks good - his family is polished and they take a great picture but the words that come out of their mouths are offensive. I have a definite belief in what I think government should be... but I won't allow my belief to be used to further someone else's agenda. There was a time in my life I would have voted a straight ticket... now my ballot is more diverse... maybe that's an aging thing.... maybe it's not. I think perhaps it's more an awareness of gray... gray in my life - gray in the world.

So I voted - voiced my opinion - exercised my right as an American and I'm glad I did.

Happy Halloween Y'all!

Shoes

I've been thinkin' a lot lately about shoes... means I need to take a trip and go shoe shoppin' y'all! Nothing makes me happier than the click clack of a cute pair of shoes on a linoleum floor, but I do believe I have intimated as much in an earlier post. But ya see I've not always been like this... oh I've always loved shoes - don't get me wrong... but I would always go for the practical shoe. You know the ones - the low heel, go with everything shoe. Comfort and sensibility over style and flair. BORING! And then a few years ago, probably 7 or 8, I bought the most unpractical pair of shoes I'd ever laid eyes on... they were a velvety black dress shoe with a satin stripe of black that criss crossed around the front. I loved them - and when I saw them I couldn't find one practical reason to buy them other than the fact they were so dog gone stylish. And because my head was where it was at that point I basically said to myself "what the fuck do you have to lose?" and myself said "not a damn thing!" And so I bought the shoes. Then I rarely wore them. I'd wear them to church occasionally but never to work. They sat in my closet for a long time. Then last year I looked at them one morning sitting there, bored and barely worn and thought, "you love these shoes... you should wear them." And so I put them on that morning with a black pair of slacks and that was it. I now frequently rotate them through the week - actually wore them today! They still look great!

That was the beginning - and now I've gotten really good at the unpractical side of shoe shopping. I've not bought a new pair in a while and I sorta feel like I have lost time to make up for - I need a new pair of shoes damn it! I've been a good financial planner lately though. When I knew I wouldn't have a job in the fall I cut back on spending. I stopped buying frivolous things... things that didn't satisfy an immediate need or provide long term practicality. But now, ahhh now that I am so very close to getting this job I feel the impending freedom of frivolity - a frivolity that prances around me with a light heart and a giddy laugh. Frivolity is such a precocious little elf and I love her -absolutely, positively adore her. I wonder why it took me so long to invite her into my life?

In reality though shoes have really just become a symbol for me. I've been doing lots of things lately that I probably wouldn't have done ten years ago. I'm taking those monthly dance classes (the next one is tap for anyone interested). I know I look silly... but I don't really care. I've jumped into this new job, actually marketed myself heavily yet tactfully.... I'm taking this training - putting myself out there. I'm stepping out of a lot of comfort zones and reaping exciting, far reaching, long term benefits. I've wondered too, though, is this just a midlife crisis thing? In some ways maybe. But really don't you think a midlife crisis is more about searching for something? I don't feel like I'm searching for anything - it's more that I feel like I've found something... I've found me. It's not been so much about buying a pair of shoes, but more about buying the shoes I really like... saying to hell with practical - realizing if I need a pair of shoes they might as well be a pair that speaks to me in colorfully poetic ways - a pair that makes me feel sexy and sassy and alluring. Life is too short not to feel that way. Why did it take me 42 years to figure that out?

Maybe that's the whole point - the rub of the issue... the heart of the matter... maybe we aren't meant to just know this early on - maybe it's a process that we come to... an awareness that slowly dawns - painting vibrant wispy strokes of color across our pale lonely lives. Or maybe that's just how it's happened for me. My night was so dark, so cold, so desolate - I never thought it would end ... and yet now I can see the soft streaks of first light announcing a new brilliant day. Gosh it sure is beautiful!

One of my favorite movies is It's a Wonderful Life. I don't think I have it listed on my profile page... I think I only listed more modern movies but I have some other favorites... some older ones like The Bishop's Wife and probably every adaptation of A Christmas Carol (can you tell it's getting close to holiday time?). The Christmas movies - those stories - are all about finding truth and beauty in our lives... discovering the gifts that exist there already and cherishing them with a grateful, attentive heart. There's a line in It's a Wonderful Life that always makes me laugh and I thought of it while writing this tonight - George Bailey is about to kiss Mary on the porch or the sidewalk - can't quite remember - but he's hesitant and the neighbor watches and waits and finally says something and George gives a flip little reply and the neighbor says in a mildly disgusted tone, "Ah, youth is wasted on the wrong people." And perhaps he's right... as we age and lose some of the time we so arrogantly thought was endless we start to recognize the importance of seizing the day - that ol' carpe diem. Life truly is too short to sit and stew and stress - to worry about appearances. When we're young we just don't have the skills to delineate between frivolity and foolishness. So here's to my own midlife crisis... my midlife epiphany- bring it on!

All That Jazz!

I took my jazz class tonight - it was so much fun! Just me and my buddy Ms. A but we had a ton of fun. It was taught by one of the college girls who teaches at the studio - we laughed and danced and had fun! We shimmed and shook our butts... struck some poses with attitude - it was a blast!

I can't elaborate now - homework help is calling... but I wanted to do a little entry and let my buddies know - here's the song we danced to - Mama, I'm a Big Girl Now. Kinda appropriate huh?!?

What About Me?

What about me?

Let's see... at first I picked that song and listened to it and thought it really doesn't go with what I am thinking but then... it kinda sorta does a little... so I'll go with it... roll with it.... flow... hmmm... I have a sweet friend who always said, "Just float down stream Belle... you don't let things flow... you gotta let things flow." Bless him... I've not talked to him in a while and I hope he's doing well - he had some really rough times last year, we almost lost him, but he worked so hard to overcome all the mental and physical hardships he was facing - and while he gives me a lot of credit for helping him through it all, I give him lots of credit for helping me grow as a person and for teaching me a lot about myself - and about life. He always said things don't happen randomly - that there is a reason - a higher hand in everything that happens. He said we met for a reason - and maybe we did. Maybe we all do. But I was thinking of you M... and I am sure all who read here and know him think of him sometimes too... so here's to you my friend! I hope you are well.

Now... I had a very kind person leave me a comment. And I am not really sure that person wanted me to publish the comment so I'll kinda sit on it for a while and decide. I've thought long and hard about what was said - some things were direct and said with concern and I appreciate that a lot. I guess I am not very good here in my blog about tooting my horn or spreading butterflies and sunshine. I think I use this blog mostly to work out thoughts in my head - those that really don't fit into any concrete workbook... you know the "Post Divorce This Is What You Should Do" workbook. There is a lot of stuff in there about getting out and rediscovering yourself and it's all good and valid stuff. And I've been doing that a lot whether I blog about it or not. I spend time hangin' out with the girls - movies, dinner, a glass of wine on a Friday night. I think I have made note before of how precious these girlfriends have been to me. I've started taking a mom's dance class myself - the studio owner does a "kid's night in" thing where she offers a class just for moms in a different art form each month - last month it was ballet, which was the coolest thing. I learned all the five positions of the feet and hands - did leaps and turns... it was a really great work out. It's incredible how physical ballet is. This Thursday is jazz. So far only one other mom and I are taking the classes but perhaps soon others will loosen up and join us.

I will soon have a new job I am very excited about - and I have also been taking classes in the evening twice a week to become a volunteer in a state program for kids. The job and the classes are sorta intertwined... it's a long story - but it's been fascinating... I am learning again - using my mind and looking outside myself. I feel like I have this great opportunity and as hokey as it might sound I can see God's hand in all of it. I think about my friend telling me to "flow" and this is all what he was telling me... patience, serenity, surrender. God has definitely directed my path... and I couldn't see it then... couldn't fathom it - but He has. A large part of my personal growth has been growing in my faith - maybe that's why church has become a comfortable - comforting - place for me again. A few years ago I couldn't see my way out of the tunnel -the dark, dark tunnel. I had a spiritual advisor educate me on the Dark Night of the Soul - perhaps he should blog on it himself - I couldn't possibly do it justice. The fact - the mere idea - we can go through such a time of darkness and disconnect from God to emerge on the other side closer to Him is mind blowing sometimes. I did everything I knew to do - everything - and it wasn't enough. My whole life fell apart - I lost my ability to see the future. I lost hope. But I've worked hard... very hard and I am a happier person for it - and I like myself again. That - I think - is the key.

I don't hate my ex. I don't really feel much for him anymore at all. I had a much greater grasp on the issues than it might appear I did. I know he was ill - I know he still is... but there came a point in our lives - our life together - that I couldn't go down that road with him anymore. I couldn't continue to let his choices affect my choices. I couldn't let his self loathing and detestation of life be mine too, but that's what was happening. He may not have done the things he did to directly hurt me... but a lot of what he did do was directed at me. He had to have a target - a deflection... because without one he'd have been forced to point the gun of blame at himself and that was something he just wouldn't survive. I get that - believe me I do. But that doesn't negated the fact I was left with wounds... deep wounds to my psyche and soul - and I would have died if I had stayed.

My son said something this summer that I think is telling. His girlfriend asked him if he felt I ever played favorites. He said no... she's pretty much been an equal opportunity ass kicker. He also thanked me - thanked me for letting him go - for letting him fall on his face a time or two. He will graduate in May from college... he's far from still being tied to my apron strings. Yeah I am involved in their lives - I never missed a football game and there are a lot of dance obligations but I am the only parent they have. It's a balancing act everyday... one I am more than aware of - but it's a 24/7 thing for me. I know what I do for myself says just as much as what I do for them... and I also know I have one shot at raising them... preparing them for their futures... nothing and no one will stop me from doing that... doing whatever it takes to give them the tools needed to be happy, healthy people.

And that leaves only love (and hey, I'll be honest here - sex)... perhaps a need at the moment but not one I am desperately seeking to fulfill - it's the whole patience, serenity, surrender thing again. When it's time it will happen - and I am not blindly looking for just any warm body to satisfy me - the right one may be out there... it just might not be the right time yet - and that's ok, because when all is said and done I think he'll most definitely be worth the wait. That acknowledgment doesn't stop me from missing him though.... so I come here to my blog - my oasis in the desert - and I sigh and I muse and I lament... and it keeps me sane - and sometimes I get the pleasure of connecting with old friends and making some new ones... who could ask for more?

Quote: Edna St. Vincent Millay

"Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world,

which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime,

and falling in at night. I miss you like hell."

You and Me

Threshold

When I had my son I was a few weeks shy of 21. I'd never had a baby before - wasn't really educated in all the ins and outs... but then again until you experience having a baby there really is no way to describe the pain. You can say it's like this or it's like that... but you really can't fully understand it, know it, until you go through it. So here I was, just shy of 21, and I am in the hospital and the pain starts getting worse and I tell the nurse and then next thing I know I have an anesthesiologist putting a needle in my back. I didn't argue, didn't question it, just accepted it, and because the pain stopped I thought it was the best thing in the world... no pain! It was beautiful - or so I thought. I spent probably the next 10 hours in comfort... oblivious to what was coming. The time came to push... I did what I was told... my son arrived. Yes I know... it wasn't really all that easy but the details aren't important here. After the delivery I was still very numb from the epidural. The doctors had given me a new shot of the stuff prior to the delivery of the baby's head... they gave me the meds, gave me an episiotomy, and then delivered him. So afterwards I still couldn't feel anything. I couldn't walk, I couldn't stand, I couldn't go potty - and they wanted me to go potty. And I tried, I promise I did but I couldn't - so they used a catheter and that was just awful. I was stuck in that bed... unable to do anything... waiting. And then a few hours later when the numbness started to wear off it was kinda unpleasant. There was some pain, some vomitting, and instructions about what not to do to pervent a massive headache. Did I say it was awful? Ok good, just making sure....

Eight years later while planning for my daughter's birth I told the doctor that I would have an epidural. It seemed like the right thing to say - after all wasn't that what most smart, educated, reasonable women do - go for the pain management? But as the time got closer to her birth, as I started to remember more of the details both during and after my son's birth, I started to rethink whether or not that was what I really wanted to do. During his birth I felt like I had no contol over anything happening to me. After his birth I was stuck in one position, one place. This time I was older, I was wiser, I knew what it felt like - it was no mystery to me. And so, while getting prepped in the hospital for my induction the nurse asked me about the epidural request in my chart. I told her I'd been rethinking that - told her I thought perhaps I kinda maybe wanted to try it without. I was prepared for her to question me, ask me what the hell I was thinking - but she didn't. I figured she'd give me all the good reasons why I should have one... but she simply smiled and said ok and that was it. Now there did come a time about half way into it when I was seriously questioning my own sanity! But hey, I managed it... actually did very well. I could feel everything - didn't need someone looking at a monitor to tell me what my body was doing - I knew it - knew it instinctively - and I've never felt more powerful than I did in those few hours - not super hero powerful... not really so much in a sense that anyone would have known... but inside me, at my core, I was in complete command of myself and my actions.

As soon as she was born, as soon as she slipped from my body and the doctor placed her on my belly, all the pain stopped. I wasn't expecting that... I'd not felt anything the first time around so I didn't know and no one had ever told me - in all the books I had read it never said that... it never said, "All the pain just stops." Relief washed over my body then... a calm peace. The doctor stitched my tiny tear, then left with the baby for her once over and everyone who had been there with me left too... they wanted to see her, of course (duh), not me... and I was left alone with my nurse. And the nurse helped me get up, took me to the bathroom, finished my clean up and changed the bed sheets and made it all nice for my return. I walked the whole way, not the least bit wobbly, I used the bathroom without hesitation - I honestly felt great. And when they brought my baby girl back to me a short time later I nursed her.

It seems to me both births say something. And this may not mean a damn thing to anyone else but me... but in a sense I panicked the first time. I'd never experienced that pain before - didn't know its depths or duration - I had no way of knowing if inside me I had the strength to endure it, make my way through it. I was young and inexperienced and I was scared... and there was no one who could take that fear away but me - it was my journey to travel - and I didn't know enough to trust myself. I had folks around me to help... the doctors and nurses and family - but the truth was it was me... me all along - and I just didn't have that awareness. So I took the epidural - the promise of relief - not knowing the after effects, not knowing I would be trading one kind of pain for another. The second time I had more faith in myself... I knew the pain was temporary and I knew I was capable of handling it.

There just really are no short cuts, are there? I guess that's the point I am making, if only to myself - there are no short cuts. Pain comes. We can distract ourselves from it... run and hide and ignore, but it follows. It lurks and waits. We can't save ourselves from it, we can't spare other people from feeling it. It's just a real part of life. The pain has to be felt, experienced, worked through, to get to the miracle at its end. Sometimes though the pain just gets to be too much and any promised reprieve from the pain is welcomed and embraced and we just don't care what the consequences will be when it returns. But unresolved pain is like a twister, sucking everything else into its spinning vortex - touching and affecting everything in its path. And then sometimes we experience a pain that pushes the limits of what we thought was our highest threshold of pain... that's when we get into uncharted territory... when we start to question how much more we can take... and we get scared... and we panic. I guess that's where a faith in yourself comes into play... an inner knowledge of your own strength - that's what calms the panic. It's truly what gets you through....

Better in Time

And as an addendum I will add this: after daughter's birth the ex told everyone about how I went through the labor and birth without anything... for some reason that impressed the tea total hell out of him... the only time I can remember him ever speaking so highly of me - and it only took 7 1/2 hours of excruciating pain to do it. Yea me.

Needs vs Wants

I've been having two thoughts in my head lately. I'm not sure if they really correspond with one another but then again maybe they do. After all, they both keep rattling around in my head, they must have some kind of correlation to each other. Perhaps writing them down I will figure out the relationship between the two. Bear with me here...

Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head

It rained all day yesterday. I've not been shy about how much I love the rain. I find it beautiful, romantic, hopeful. So for me to bring this up again probably isn't much of a surprise, especially after the all day rain we had yesterday that brought with it the first really authentic fall weather. So, anyway, I have this little music box - the one in the picture above - and it plays, can you guess? RIGHT (you're so smart)! Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head! I've had it most of my life... one of the few things that survived childhood intact. My dad brought it back from some overseas tour of duty he did while in the Navy in the very early 70's and it's been with me ever since. I rarely play it, in fact today was the first time in a very, very long while. The last time it played I didn't wind it... it was the oddest thing.

The music box sits on one of the book shelves in my hall... on a higher shelf away from the hands of the (once little) kids. It was July, 12 years ago, and I was painting my hall. I've since painted it again, but this time stands out to me because it was during this time my grandmother was dying. My mom had flown to Indiana to be with her. I had offered to go but she didn't want me to - my daughter was still small, still nursing, and mom said she'd rather I stay home. To be honest I don't think she wanted anyone with her. She wanted to grieve by herself... without our prying eyes - at least I think that's how she saw it. Mom is someone who doesn't show a lot of emotion... I think she learned early on in life not to - a form of self preservation I guess. She rarely, if ever, lets anyone in - I know what I do about her through sheer observation and few words.

Grandma was dying, actually I think she'd passed by this point, and I was painting the hall and with every swipe of the paint roller I was thinking of this woman - who she was, what I remembered about her, things she'd said. I was lost in thought and the music box started playing. My grandmother had never been to my house - really she'd never been to any of the houses I had lived in as an adult. This music box was really the only thing that would have been a connection for her to me here. When I was little she would tease me, saying I looked like the little girl on the music box because I always slept with my butt in the air. I just had this feeling, when the music box started playing, that she was here... perhaps saying goodbye.

My grandmother was married to my grandfather for, gosh, I'm not really sure how long... but a long time. My grandfather died in 86... she died in 96. She spent the last ten years missing him... waiting to die so she could be with him again, living half a life after his loss because in a lot of ways a big part of her died when he did. They didn't have a lot of material wealth... but they had each other - always... and to be honest I don't know if that was healthy or not - don't know what professionals would say about it... what a therapist's take on it would be. It could have been codependent as hell - it's possible from what I know about them that the dynamics were skewed enough and they were emeshed with one another enough that other things, other people suffered for it. I honestly don't know enough to say one way or the other. The point is though they had each other, they had what they needed.

That thought - that memory - is intermingled with seeing a movie on tv the other day. Needful Things was on... perhaps last weekend... and daughter and I landed on it one night flipping channels on the television. We only caught the end of it and daughter was asking me questions about it - what was the plot, what was happening, why are all these people flippin' out... that sort of thing and I was explaining to her it was based on a book, a Stephen King novel, and how all his stuff is a little weird and how he often uses everyday stuff, situations, emotions, and twists them into something scary. Life is scary after all - people's minds are scary places.

I wrote previously about my minister challenging the congregation to think of a time God didn't provide what we all needed - not necessarily what we wanted but definitely what we needed. I think that's been true for me, I think I've had the things I need, I think I've been blessed enough to definitely be able to take care of the needs of those in my care. I've worked hard but I've also had circumstances just fall my way in some cases... a Divine Providence of sorts. There are things I want... things that almost border on being needs... things other people have that I don't. And so perhaps those things are needs for those people and merely wants for me... maybe that's how it works, maybe that's the difference. I don't know. I think needs are basic, rudimentary, vital. Wants are more... intricate. A need might be the cake but a want - now that's the butter cream frosting.

Here's where the confusion sets in for me - does a want make you ache? Does a want leave an empty pit in your stomach? Does a want cause you pain? My feeling is that no - wants shouldn't cause pain... a want could cause a pause... a momentary skip in step... a slight blip on the radar - but not pain. And love - is love a need or a want? And I am not talking about agape love... I'm not talking about loving your children... I'm talking about loving another person - one other person - completely. If it's a need there are lots of folks doing without... lots of folks living with less - I am living with less. So maybe it's not a need after all, even if it does hurt not to have it... maybe it's just icing on the cake. But I like the icing... it's what makes the cake worthwhile for me. I prefer the corner piece... with a rose on top....

Thursday Night Thoughts

I Hope That I Don't Fall in Love With You

I want to work and work and work until I'm exhausted. I want to work and run and work and run until I have no energy to do anything other than fall into bed. It's the only way I think... it's going to be the only way.

I went into Belk today and looked for clothes. I have a few nice things to wear to work - after all I had to dress nicely at school, but I don't have a lot of "court attire" and with the new job (should the freeze un-thaw and I get hired) I will need to go to court a few times a month. I have a great black skirt to wear - the one I wore on divorce day. Today I found a brown one. I also got a few sweaters and tops... mix and match pieces. Even if something happens and I don't get the job I can still use the clothes. I also need a pair of brown court shoes. I'll look for those in the near future. I love shoes - I guess that's the one typically female stereotypical behavior I have. I like classy shoes - ones that make a clip clip sound on the floor as you walk. I love the way my feet and ankles look in a nice heel... ya', I definitely like shoes.

Tomorrow night daughter and I have decided to have a game and snack night - she asked if we could throw in a movie too and I said why not. We'll go to the grocery store tomorrow and pick out our array of snacks... maybe some chips and dip... I thought maybe some fruit with dip too... I have a great French cream recipe that's very tasty. We'll look around and see what else we can find. It'll be nice. Saturday is football... I need to check on the time of the game... it's supposed to be cooler on Saturday - maybe I'll make us some soup... potato might be nice.

I bought some lotion today at the Wally World (my affectionate nickname for Wal-Mart). I'm picky about my lotion... it needs to be really thick. I need some more of my Amber Romance but I'm not planning a trip to the mall anytime soon. I picked up this lotion today and liked it... the smell is a lot like the Bath and Body Works version of Moonlight Path and it reminded me of something - something kinda bittersweet. I bought it anyway... I have to reclaim some things. I can't continue to avoid so much just because it brings back a memory. I miss being told I smell good. I don't know if it means anything to other women to hear that but it means something to me... smell, like touch, can be such a sensual thing. I miss the way a man can smell, all clean and musky - very er... manly... I miss that so much. I miss how big a man's hand can be in comparison to mine. I miss so many things....

Oh well... life's fully of subtle little ironies huh?

Anyway, here's another South Carolina boy... I'll Be.

Wine Induced Melancholy

She Don't Want Nobody Near

Hold My Hand

Lucky

Reheated

I originally wrote this last February - the day of my anniversary - what would have been my 21st... I'd lost a lot by then... a lot by that time in February - I'd lost my marriage... I'd lost my escapist romance... and I'd also lost what could have potentially been the love of my life... it was all gone (lol... inside joke lol...). Things are going well here at home... they really are - as soon as the state of SC thaws the hiring freeze I'll have a great new job (I think) - and the kids are well... I have a sink full of dirty dishes I need to do and half a glass of wine left... but I miss companionship... not always - just sometimes... it creeps in... sneaks up on me and makes me melancholy... and the wine and the melancholy made me remember I had written this - and I happen to like what I wrote - so I thought I'd repost it here -

Tennyson, et al.

(February 12, 2008)

I have been thinking lately about love. Maybe it's this whole damn Anniversary/Valentine week that is causing me to examine the concept and analyze the hell out of it. I don't know why - doing so frustrates me, vexes me, makes me feel as if I am stuck tracing the outline of a circle on the floor, walking the circular pattern, faster and slower - and faster and slower. I have a thought, it makes sense and my pace quickens - I am on to something... logic follows logic... I am at last grasping the concept, making sense of it - yes... I almost have it.... and then - a dead end. My pace dejectedly slows... confusion sets in... I am back at the beginning of the circle again. Love, it is, at least in my mind, the greatest contradiction - the grandest inconsistency.

What is love? What's the big deal? Everything in life shares a preoccupation with it. Wars have been fought for it, art created around it, books written because of it - a holiday, for goodness sake, to celebrate it. But what IS it? It can't be touched yet it can be felt? It is something expected to be given without expectation of return. It can take many forms, it can change shape at will, it can morph and grow and die. Love can be the purest, most intoxicating joy. Love can be the darkest, most agonizing pain. Is it all worth it...? I suppose that's the real confusion I have, the one question I keep asking myself over and over. Many people will, without any hesitation what so ever, immediately answer with a resounding, emphatic, innocent YES! Me? hmmmmm ....

In Alfred Lord Tennyson's In Memorium is contained a poem with the famous lines, "I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; 'Tis better to have loved and lost, Than never to have loved at all." It's pretty common fair, used often whenever a love ends... whenever we need a sweet, comforting thought... a way to soften our hearts to the bitter reality of the situation. Words recited by the head in an attempt to trick the heart - the ultimate mind game. What I want to know though, is Tennyson right? Is it better to have lost - better to have lost love... to actually have something so wonderful... so satisfying, so completing .... and then to lose it. Is it really better to feel the warmth, desire and freedom that only love can bring only to have it disappear so coldly, so quickly and so savagely? Is Jean Anouilh (a French dramatist) correct? He said, "There is love of course. And then there's life, its enemy." Do the two compete? Are life and love at odds? A strange thought considering many philosophers believe happiness to be the one absolute goal of life and that true happiness comes from loving and being loved. Oh man! Why am I seeing that damn circle again?

Why o' why is lost love romanticized so? Ok... I get the concept that in order to understand something, to truly value its importance and gravity, it is often helpful to have something with which to compare. G.K. Chesterton (a 20th century English writer) wrote, "The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost." All right... I can accept the word might. Might doesn't denote fact... might is just a possibility. Kahlil Gibran, however, just can't leave well enough alone... might isn't good enough... it has to be all or nothing - "Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation." It's not good enough to only imagine its loss... not sufficient enough to surmise how it would feel. Nope... gotta lose it. Phfffffffttttt... gone. But ya' really gotta be careful. Love is a risky proposition... a hazard to your health.... One too many broken hearts and a gal could end up like Mrs. Havarsham in Great Expectations... hanging out in a rotting wedding dress, warping a little girl and playing mind games with an orphan boy. How attractive.

Washington Irving wrote, "Love is never lost. If not reciprocated, it will flow back and soften and purify the heart." Ok... yeah, sure - sorry Irving... not feeling too softened right now. Pain doesn't render my heart tender ... it hardens me, brings an instinct of self preservation to the surface - pain circles my wagons. So the question still remains on my mind... is it really better to have loved and lost? I think I like Otomo No Yakamochi's take on it... he was an 8th century Japanese statesman and poet (go figure), apparently wrote a collection of poetry, the first anthology of its kind in Japanese history.... and in there somewhere is contained the line, "Better never to have met you in my dream than to wake and reach for hands that are not there." You can't miss what you never knew, correct? But I love the imagery it envokes... love does often feel like a dream... a dream filled with a soft, diffused glow... light, muted colors.... warm, welcoming breezes.... a drowsy, comforting contentment. We eventually wake up though... don't we? We wake and we wonder - how can we get back there... how can we close our eyes and return to that exact moment in the dream - please, oh please, just let me go back.... But we can't ever seem to do it can we? And then reality sets in - awareness dawns, the sleep falls from our eyes and we are left with a strange dull ache... a longing for something - something mesmerizing... something vague... something illusive ... and then the tears come and that line creeps into our minds... "better to have loved and lost.... than never to have loved at all..." Sure. Whatever.

Perfect Day

Waking - late... coffee, danish, newspaper and you... conversation, silence, laughter

Showering - with you... slick, soapy, sensual, warm bodies,

Makeup - just a touch, comfortable clothes, soft skin, soft lips, soft smell

Reading - together, yet separately... your arm around me... quiet, an occasional kiss on my head

Lunch - a sandwich... a football game... you laugh when I grimace... smile when I cheer

A nap - wrapped together on the couch, warm blanket, steady, rhythmic breathing

Dinner - a walk... holding hands... maybe a movie...

Bedtime - white silk, soft sheets, soulful kisses...

Promise

Realize

It's amazing how differently one can feel when all the clutter gets cleared away, all the oppression lifts, and the way becomes more clear and less hazy. Things are going well here. The kids are great... not perfect by any means what so ever but they are doing really well - I think they're happy and to me that's a huge thing... the legal stuff has been resolved - he'll be in a work release situation for five months, so for me (selfishly I know) the child support payments shouldn't be affected... and things are looking really good on the job front. The job I want is very close to being mine - I will start volunteering there next week for a few hours (while still working the other job) so I can learn the ropes - I spoke to the boss lady and she and I hit it off really well - she's kind and friendly... is excited I am excited and I think she'll be a great person with whom to work. The money is good and the benefits even better so my finances will go from tight but manageable to light and lucrative. This job has future potential - it's exactly what I needed to get the family finacially on the right track.

When ex first left I was devastated to a certain degree... couldn't see the future, couldn't imagine how I would do it. And then, after a while, I began to see the possibility in life - for my life. It was a nice feeling - a nice place to be, to finally see something after seeing nothing for so long. I thought possibility was the end of the emotional line, the opposite end of how I had felt... I thought possibility was the goal. But I think now though I see promise - and promise feels even better than possibility. There is an even greater excitement there - and it's a really satisfying feeling... especially since I am making it happen... I've worked hard, clawed and climbed and fought for every inch of it and now... now it feels calm. I can see the summit from where I am standing and it's beautiful.

It's still a little scary. For so long I lived in fear of losing it all... in fear of the other shoe dropping... in fear of everything. And it happened... I did lose it all. Well maybe not all of it... I still had the things that really mattered most. I had the kids, I had a roof over my head - I had the essentials... and then I discovered other things too. I had friends - really great friends - people who have stood by me and supported me, people who've listened to me and laughed with me. It's an amazing feeling to know I have that. Somehow being stripped down to the bare essentials put a lot of things into perspective for me - and I am a much better person for it. Things I once found to be a chore just aren't anymore... I'm finding joy in the simple things again and that makes me happy.

Life's not perfect... I miss a few things, a few people... perhaps in the future that won't be the case... but for today I have Carolina football and a quiet Saturday - a cool breeze and a light heart. It feels good.

Serendipity

Not sure the title will reflect completely the content of this entry... the connection is there in my mind but I'm not sure it will come through as I write. But either way I like the word, it's a pretty word. There is a movie by the same name - made in 2001 with John Cusack and Kate Beckensale. I'd never seen it, never even heard of it until this year... I was having a conversation with a few of the ladies at dance (see, I'm always there) and I was describing a meeting, a connection, and lamenting how impossible it was, how ill fated and lost, not in a depressing sort of way just in a wistful, wishful sort of way. One lady, she's older, works at the studio, the aunt of the owner, she said she believes in serendipity and that what will be will be, when something is meant to happen it will. She said, "Baby (she calls everyone baby), just be open to the possibility." And she told me about the movie and then a few weeks later I happened upon it while flipping channels on the television - serendipity anyone? The movie is cute - heart warming I guess, a sweet love story, a happily ever after. And isn't that what we all want - a happily ever after?

Last Friday - the 26th - I went with a friend to see Nights in Rodanthe. I bought and read the book in August after seeing the movie previews. It's your typical Nicholas Sparks book... finding love, an exceptional love - losing that love to circumstances beyond earthly control and yet being a better person because of it. Nights was no different but something about it struck a chord with me... maybe because the female protagonist, Adrienne, is in her 40's and her husband had an affair - that would be enough don't you think? The movie and the book were different in some ways - aren't they always? But the basic tenet was the same: there are two people who've lived lives they thought they were supposed to live... done those things they thought were right, even if it required a sacrifice of self - even if it required them to give up large chunks of themselves. The irony becomes after doing all that, after pouring so much of themselves into others it crumbles and they find themselves alone and lost. As they each, separately, are trying to find their way, figure it out, understand and rediscover who they are, they serendipitously find each other.

They meet and discover an attraction, seeing within the other what's been buried. There is a maturity there - they aren't looking for someone to save them or take them away. They confront each other with the unpleasantness looming in their respective lives - holding a mirror up to see the truth - and then accepting it all with honesty, both individually and together. Before they can be together they have unfinished business to attend to - he needs to heal the relationship with his adult son and she needs to tell her husband she doesn't want to reconcile. They use the time apart to learn about one another - to deepen the relationship until they can be together. They also use the time apart to discover things about themselves. She renews her interest in art, he discovers the human side of being a doctor... they are whole people separate from the other, and yet being together enhances their lives. At the end - which I won't give away but you can sorta guess - Adrienne tells her daughter, "There is a different kind of love - one that gives you courage to be better then you are and that makes you think ANYTHING is possible. I want you to hold out for it." I think there is a lot of truth to that. Too often we settle... we settle for all kinds of reasons - and I'm not saying those reasons aren't legitimate. But once we know it exists - honest love, true love, healthy love - I think it's hard to settle anymore.

I've had a few conversations with friends about love - what it means, what it should be, what is it worth. During one conversation someone made a comment about love - how for some people love is the pursuit of happiness, not the resting in it... and I think that's so beautifully and simply put... I think that's what I long for - the resting. To rest in it though I think you have to be comfortable enough in yourself - happy with who you are and able to freely accept, give and treasure love. If you aren't, if you can't - then love remains an elusive thing... forever longing, forever exhausting. So I'm trying to learn, grow, and become comfortable loving myself... and perhaps, as I do, serendipity is working it's way to me... a grander plan that is coming true.

Oh... and one more thing...

I read the following and it made me smile... it was interesting to see the expressions of love laid out so simply - it kinda fit with my thoughts this afternoon. The list was written by someone unknown in response to the following Bible verses:

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

Galatians 5:22-23

Joy - love smiling
Peace - love resting
Patience - love waiting
Kindness - love showing itself sensitive to others' feelings
Goodness - love making allowances
Faithfulness - love proving constant
Gentleness - love yielding
Self-control - love triumphing over selfish inclinations

Copy Cat

Charles Caleb Colton coined the phrase, "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery." I didn't know who'd said it until I looked it up - isn't Google just the most special thing? I guess you do learn something new everyday - well maybe not everyone does... my mother once picked my then young son up from school and she asked him what he'd learned that day - he responded, "Nothing that I didn't all ready know." But I do learn something new most days and today I learned about CCC....

I have this little blog - my little blog ball - and I try to write but sometimes I have an idea and I can't quite figure out how I want to discuss it and sometimes I just plain got nuthin'. I have a few friends that read regularly and they'll ask me, "Why haven't you written anything lately?" and I really have no answer for them other than I don't have much to say. One friend says you have to write whether you feel like it or not... sometimes you just have to write about nothing, sometimes the content isn't the important part - sometimes it's just the practice. He didn't say all that word for word but I think that's what he meant - he can correct me if I am wrong. Lately I'm having a hard time focusing... maybe it's the working thing, but the working thing has been good. I've not made a lot of money and I've actually not gotten paid yet but it's been nice to be busy... and the other job is still a possibility - so I've been tired a lot and trying to prioritize things, cooking and cleaning and homework help... it's been a nice feeling though - it feels like purpose, like forward movement. Maybe I'll blog about that another time... it's still a work (lol!) in progress.

What I had planned to do here tonight though was write about my favorite foods... My blog buddy did that... wrote about his favorite foods and since I've copied him in the past I figured why not again... it's at least the process of writing, may not be terribly substantive but hey, it's practice :-) So here's my list - in no particular order:

Wine... I prefer a red - usually a Merlot, but sometimes I like a cold white wine - I don't like a dry white though so I usually get a Riesling... sometimes I like a cold beer and I've become partial to Blue Moon. I wonder what the policy is on wine/beer in the convent?

Sweet Tea... nothing better than a glass of cold sweet tea. If you order a glass of tea in the South there's no need to specify sweet... that's just understood. If you don't want sweet tea you have to say "unsweetened please" (manners). Some places have better sweet tea than others and often a local restaurant will be rated by how good their tea is. I also like a Chai tea from Starbucks... spicy!

Crab Cakes... I love a good crab cake - I usually order them when we're at the beach. The best I've ever had was in Wilmington NC. It came with some kind of remoulade and it was so so good. I've had some great ones on Hilton Head too.

Salmon... I like to cook salmon for dinner sometimes and I like to order it out a lot. The best salmon I've ever had was at the Pirate's House in Savannah. It came with the best mashed potatoes and some kind of sweet pecan (pronounced puh' con) sauce. Yum!

Filet Mignon... cooked medium served with a nice salad and a glass of red wine. Nothing better - nothing.

Godiva Truffles... love love love some Godiva truffles... the kids once for Christmas gave me a sampler that had like 12 of them ... I ate two a day... I had this ritual... I'd sit down at night, the lights on the Christmas tree glowing, and I'd just quietly savor them. They are so decadent.

Cheese Fries... I don't eat them often - they are bad for ya' - ya' know? A place in town used to have these things they called loaded fries - they had cheese and chili and bacon and jalapenos... talk about a heart attack waiting to happen but they were so good... it's sad they're gone... but maybe that's a good thing, huh?

Homemade Bread... nothing better than homemade bread - especially with homemade soup. I used to make bread from scratch but then I discovered frozen bread dough and well... now I cheat... but it tastes just as good and it's easier. I'm all about easier.

Fruit... I'll eat most fruit but my favorites are cherries, pears, red grapes and strawberries. My mom makes a fruit salad during the holidays that I like a lot.

Brussels Sprouts and Asparagus... I like most vegetables too but I'm particularly fond of those two. I like to roast them in the oven with olive oil, fresh ground pepper and kosher salt.

So that's it - my favorites... oh and I forgot one... birthday cake but it has to be birthday cake from Publix - they have the very best butter cream frosting and if you're gonna eat something so full of calories it at least ought to be worth it - right?

Jail

Late last July my minister, Marc, called me on my cell phone. He had something he wanted to discuss with me and he wondered if he could come to where I was. Well I was at the dance studio - I'm always at the dance studio - and he asked if he could come out there - I said sure... gave him the directions and he met me there. While I was waiting for him my mind was racing - what could he possibly have to tell me that required a trip out to a dance studio to break the news? My first thought was the ex had killed himself... he'd talked about it many times in the past... had even written a note - wow that was ten years ago this month. He shared the note with his therapist and she called me and said it was time - time to put him in the hospital... and that's where he spent eight days in October of '98. So my mind was racing... wondering what was so important that Marc had to tell me in person. I couldn't imagine it being much else....

When he arrived we sat on a bench outside. He apologized for worrying me - knew what I must have thought and was sorry to have worried me so but he knew he had to tell me all this in person. He explained that the my soon to be ex had been arrested. The Feds had arrested him that morning and he had been booked and was sitting in a jail. I knew it was coming, or I had suspected it was coming. It's hard to explain... a lot of details I don't think are necessary to share except to say it was work related and the whole company was involved. He stared working there in 2000 and spent a lot of nights away from home. So much of what he did he didn't share with me. I'd ask questions and he give me little ambiguous answers. More and more he created a complete life away from his family. More and more he chose other people and activities over being home. He slipped away and I was powerless to stop it.

Anyway, back to the arrest... so he had a sentencing hearing sometime around the first of the year - and then... nothing. I had asked him about it - wondered what the status was and he said he didn't know, that he was waiting to hear what the sentence reduction was going to be - that there were other things that were going to factor into how much actual jail time he'd have to do. So that was it... until yesterday. The ex in laws had planned a trip to Ireland, they were leaving tomorrow for ten days. Ex mother in law called yesterday to tell me they had cancelled their trip - ex's final hearing is set for next week - Tuesday or Wednesday - and she just couldn't be out of the country while all this was going on... instead they were going to Charleston for the weekend. She just wanted to let me know. I said thanks... asked a few questions which I really didn't get any answers to and that was that. So I suppose next week we shall find out if he goes up the river and for how long... it's a sad, sad shame.

He's made so many messes. I wonder if he'll ever stop. That's what happened, in the end, too many messes... too many secrets and lies.... I wasn't a perfect wife but I tried. There was just no way for me to win... for me to keep it together, the marriage, no way to fix it. I couldn't compete with the allure, the promise, of a different kind of life. His boss was wealthy and took him on trips. He had wealthy friends and they would all play... go out at night sit in bars, go to NASCAR races, visit the casinos and gamble. I didn't know about the gambling until the IRS started sending us bills... thousands of dollars owed on gambling income... money I didn't even know existed. And then of course there were the affairs... I just couldn't do it anymore. I just couldn't hold it together by myself. He left emotionally, mentally - long before he left physically. There was nothing to save.

The worst part of it all is what he's done to his children. Me - I'm a big girl... I've handled it, worked through it, carved out a new road for this family - my family. He's no longer my husband, he's chosen a different path, a different partner and it's ok... I'm ok. But he didn't just leave me when he walked out - he left the kids too. Not all fathers do that... lots of fathers continue to have great relationships with their children, they share custody, remain involved and active in their lives... but not my ex. He's not seen his daughter dance in three years. He just doesn't come to her recitals anymore. As of this weekend he's not seen them in eight weeks. He's not talked to daughter since August 22 - her birthday - and he spoke to her for 2 minutes and 48 seconds... it's on my cell phone. He's not talked to son since August 31st. I've made it easy to see them... he's never been denied access to them - ever. He just chooses not to contact them. There is a lot of damage to repair, and he's not doing the work needed. The longer this goes on, the more time he spends out of their lives, the harder it will be to return. It's not fair to the kids - they need a dad and they don't have one and it breaks my heart.

Everyone makes mistakes - everyone. I've made them, he's made them... these mistakes, they don't have to define us though - they don't have to be who we are. Life throws so much at us - sometimes it's wonderful stuff... special, beautiful, exceptional... and sometimes it's painful stuff... horrific, ugly, devastating. The experience isn't the defining moment - what defines us is how we react to it, how we handle it - do we grow from it, do we rise above, do we learn? Can we make something good from it all? My ex husband isn't doing this... I'm sorry all of this is happening to him... I can only imagine how scared he is, but even in the face of all this, even now, he's doing nothing to grow, nothing to mend. I'm afraid for him... and I'm powerless to help him, powerless like I've always been and that makes me sad.