Thoughts of My Father

As the anniversary of my father's death draws nearer I find myself thinking of him more.  Thinking how I have evolved in my thinking of our relationship, of his place in my life.  I'd like share some of those thoughts here.

The emotions, feelings and resulting self perception stemming from my early life and my father's death have more to do, I think, with me not having a father figure rather than me not having my father.  As I have touched on in earlier posts, my father really was not around a lot in my childhood and by the time I was six years old, he was dead.  By the time of his death, he and my mother had been married fourteen years.  And he was firmly in the grips of his alcoholism by then.

I can honestly say that I harbor no resentment, no bad feelings toward my father.  One would have to know someone personally, I think, to have feelings of disappointment and resentment and I really did not know him.  When I refer to my father, whether it be to a friend, my children or even my mother, it's always 'my father' not 'Daddy'.  Referring to him as Daddy just does not seem natural.  My mother, however, still refers to her father as 'Daddy' and always has.  She was a daddy's girl you see and she still speaks of him in revered tones.  Daddy.  That word comes out very awkwardly for me.

My father was absent either because he was hospitalized, because he was institutionalized or because he was on 'a trip'.  He went on 'trips' frequently apparently.  If he felt like taking off (and taking off usually meant back to sweet home Alabama) then he would up and go. And inform my mother later as to where he was.

My father was fighting demons I am sure.  His own childhood had been tumultuous.  He was fourth in a family of seven children.  His mother had contracted meningitis and died when he was nine years old.  Meningitis also claimed the life of his infant brother, James, and his little sister lost her hearing and the sight of one eye to the illness.

My grandfather, overwhelmed with the loss, left.  Up and left his six children leaving them to fend for themselves.  The oldest?  A daughter age thirteen.

I really have not been around my southern relatives all that much in my life so I don't know a lot of  the details but the ones I do know are heartbreaking.  In one infamous story, before social services intervened, the two oldest daughters had resorted to killing a hoot owl for food.  I guess my grandfather returned to the home but strangely his two sons were removed as was their little sister who lost her hearing.  She was placed in a special home for the deaf.  My father and his older (by one year) brother were placed together in a foster home.

That must have been devastating to them.  To lose their mother and then be separated from their father and sisters.  But from all outside recollections, the husband and wife who were their foster parents provided them with a stable home and upbringing.  The one negative that I did hear about was that at the age of ten my father was made to go down to the shanty town and collect the rent from the sharecroppers.  That must have been hard for a little white boy in the deep south in the 1930s.

As soon as they were able my father and his brother tried to enlist in the Navy.  My uncle finally wangled his way in at the very end of WWII, I think my grandfather signed for him or something.  My father bumped along for another year or so and finally joined up but the war had ended.

From what I can gather my father was a bit of a maverick.  I don't believe he was in the Navy for long.  He was the lowest of the low on ship...down in the boiler room...in the belly of the ship.  Conditions were not very good.  Actually, from what I have read about the subject, I tend to think that his resulting lung illness was a by product of the 'cake' that was used down below.

He was visiting my mother's next door neighbor.  That's how they met.  She was immediately smitten.  An avid child of the movies, she thought he looked like Montgomery Clift.  And proved to be just as tragic, unfortunately.

My father was very ethnic looking.  It is said that his mother was part American Indian.  My father was strikingly attractive with his olive skin, thick, black wavy hair and his gorgeous blue eyes fringed in black lashes of which any girl would have been envious.  He swept her off her feet I guess you could say.  My mother had zero dating experience.  Actually my mother only dated two men - my father and my stepfather - and married both of them.

Apparently my mother didn't fully know the breadth of his addiction until after they were married.  A bride at 21, it's my impression that things were never that great.  Seems like my father had a disdain for authority and all things structured.  Including marriage.  My mother said on the day he was honorably discharged from the Navy, he went straight to a department store, bought a new suit, and very unceremoniously dumped his naval uniform in a trash can out on the front sidewalk.

She said from the get go he had very little interest in furthering his education or his skills.  He bumped from job to job.  My mother was a true child of the Depression and job security was very important to her.  She had a secure job at the telephone company.  Thank goodness she had a job as she was, most often, the sole breadwinner.

From what I can tell their marriage was a cycle of my father's hospitalizations for various surgeries for his illness, his getting on - and falling off - the wagon, and his alcohol fueled or motivated shenanigans.

And he had some adventures.  Like when he took their beloved rat terrier with him on one of his tears.  He had a penchant for staying at a low life string of rent by the hour bungalows when he was on 'holiday'.  This one time his room caught fire and he and the dog jumped out the window and the dog disappeared.  My mother was distraught at the loss of the dog so she accompanied my father back to that place where they happily, miraculously, found the pup no worse for the wear, just a little singed.

Some of his adventures did not turn out favorably for him.  He was only 5'8" and slight in stature but mother was fond of saying he was like a little bantam rooster.  Lots of fight in him.  Unfortunately, he was indiscriminate with whom he picked a fight.  Mouthing off to a policeman got him backfisted - with a billy club - and cost him his two front teeth.  Devastating.  And pulling out the hammer he kept under the driver's seat in our car when he was pulled over by another policeman got him a night in jail.

Mother through all this was frazzled.  She was very shy to begin with and his over-the-top, gossip-inducing mishaps nearly pushed her over the edge.  One time, when I was an infant, my mother locked him out of our apartment.  He sat on the hood of our car and ALL NIGHT called out, moaning my mother's name.  All.night.

But the rare times he was sober, he was a dreamboat.  And honestly, he wasn't a nasty drunk.  He was just very, very irresponsible, undependable and reckless.  The big question is:  why did my mother stay with him?  I imagine it was because she knew if she left him then he would rapidly go down the tubes.

In my grief counseling class we learned that we are to refrain from using the popular phrase that all things happen for a reason.  The argument against is how can God willingly take a loved one from a little child?  I happen to believe that all things do happen for a higher calling.  In my family's case, my mother has often said living with my father had gotten so abysmal, so heartbreaking and taxing, that if he hadn't died, she surely would have.  Sad.

So getting back to the true point of this post, my relationship, or non-relationship as it were, with my father.  I may have written in a prior post that my mother really didn't talk to me about my father, about his death, or about how our life was going to be in those months and years when I was so small.  I remember NO comforting.  She was too wrecked.  And as the years passed when she did speak of him it was 95% of the time negative.

What I really would like to know is did he love me?  I mean, sure he probably felt something for me, I was his child.  But did he love me?   Rather than fault my father for his absences during our life together, I do have to admit that my mother has done NOTHING to convey to me that my father thought of me, loved me.  Not anything about how he acted when he first held me or if I made him laugh by doing any of the cute things babies invariably do.  I would just like something to know how he regarded me.  You'd think she could toss me a bone, wouldn't you??

The only hints at how he thought of me have been revealed sporadically over the years.  As I mentioned, my father spent a lot of time in rehab.  And while in rehab he did a lot of crafts.  He handhooked a rug with a swan on it.  It was colorful and looked like something to go in a child's room.  And my mother has a Lane cedar chest and in it once I saw about a dozen tiny little knitted hats and scarves.  My mother did say that my father made them for me.  And I can pretty definitely tell you that she never put them on me.

And then recently my mother did say that she had strict orders with my elementary school's office that I was not to be taken from the school by anyone but her and my aunt, her sister.  I found this very interesting that she even thought that my father would try and abscond with me.  Very interesting.

On a more pleasant note, I do have birthday cards that my father signed and that I hold so incredibly dear.  And I have the wallet he was carrying the night he died.  In it...my first grade picture.  Melt.

Funny

Funny how a little thing like a text message from the right person can immensely brighten your spirits, lift your mood and just make you illuminated.

It also peels about 30 years off my age and makes me buoyant.

I would bottle it if I could and uncork and apply as needed.

Little things...they do mean a lot.

The World this Day

The world is becoming an increasingly difficult place to be in for the tender hearted.

That is all I have to say for today...

Reality Check

The undeniable fact is:

1)  I'm mature...old by some standards I guess;

2)  I can't compete with the younger competition;

3)  Guess I don't want really to compete;

4)  If he's all agog over a pop-eyed, fake eyelash wearing, silicone enhanced, Cheshire grinning 'woman' he sure ain't going to be content with me especially if the showstopper is still performing...then he's definitely going to prefer that trampoline over me (even though I still think I'm pretty fine).

God I hate Facebook.

Andy

This is Andy.  He is truly my oldest friend.  I think he is as old as me because I cannot remember a time without him.

He used to have a music box inside him.  My mother removed it and he became the protector of our money.  You see, my father was so very lost.  He couldn't hold a job and would live from drink to drink.  He would drain my poor mother of every cent of our money he could get his hands on.

My mother hid money from her paycheck in Andy.  That and what little bit of good jewelry she had. Whatever wasn't nailed down was fair game for my father to pawn or trade.  He never figured out Andy was our protector.

Long live Andy.

Survival Mode

Daughter, LB, is an actress trying to make it in L.A.

I think she is talented.  I support her.

Why wouldn't I?

I lived 27 years with her father who is a frustrated performer.  I know first hand how that misery of not living your authentic life, not being your true self, fucks with EVERYTHING.  Especially interpersonal relationships and self-esteem.

So I say 'go for it!'

I was a performer back in the day.  In local theater; dinner theater to be exact.  Had some of my BEST days there.  But I recognized early on that I had neither the drive nor the confidence (and let's face it, probably not the talent either) to pursue a professional career.  And though I am a passionate patron of the arts I have little desire to climb back on the boards myself.  But I recognize and can appreciate someone who does. I firmly believe in pursuing the dream.

But pursuing that dream certainly comes with cost.  Borderline poverty is a given.  You also open yourself up to the unsolicited condemnation of others.  Sometimes even those close to you.

LB recently had an experience at her 'survival job'.  She works at an ice cream shop; a VERY upscale ice cream shop.

LB is a cheerful girl, very adept at the whole customer service thing. Very personable.  And very attractive, if I must say so myself.

So this one day she's waiting on customers when one guy she is serving decides he's going to make her day.

"Working serving ice cream cones; so that's your BIG goal in life?  When I grow up, I'm gonna work in an ice cream store??"

She was taken aback.  She didn't respond...fortunately.  Could have cost her her job if she did...in the manner in which she wanted to respond.

I asked her what this gem was like.  Big and fat though expensively dressed.

Hmmm...I betcha he decided he was going to exact out his insecurities and bitterness on this smiling, albeit-restrained-due-to-work-obligations servant this day.  He was probably getting back at every female who rebuffed him via my daughter.

Why do some feel the need to make themselves look good at the expense of others??

Also, closer to home, why do people who know you well, who have grown up in your neighborhood, been to your home for social gatherings, claim to be friends, comment, condescend and question your choices and goals in life.  My example that comes to mind is 'Big Red' and her daughter 'Nearly as Big Red'.  Big Red is large and in charge in our neighborhood.  Neighbors for 20 years now we know each other well.  Big Red will never miss an opportunity to sing the praises of her very well educated, well employed son and daughter.  Her exact words when she is congratulated on her daughter's post grad school job 'Thank you.  Yes she did get a job.  She is employed.  "Very well employed."  And then her eyes dart around the table to see who got that.  Good enough...happy for them.

Daughter, Nearly Big Red, is surly.  She is very haughty and really kind of in-your-face with her breed of confidence.  She recently dumped her boyfriend of nearly six years because he wasn't motivated enough in life.  He was still in college studying to be a teacher.  I met him a couple of times.  Nice guy.  Too nice for her apparently.

Now Big Red is about five years older than me and was unceremoniously dumped from her sales job about four years ago.  It's the luck of the draw.  She has diligently tried to find employment to no avail.  Not one to sit around and feel sorry for herself, she admirably fills her days with friends and volunteer work.  She also has taken a stab at selling skin care products.

Remember that little fact, will you?

LB, in attempts to supplement her already meager income, is now selling Arbonne skin care products. When she told me this, I cringed.  She is all gung ho because she really believes in the product and thinks she's going to have moderate success in it.  I recognize it for what it is...a pyramid scheme.  I tried to explain to her that you don't necessarily make money from your sales but from bringing in other people under you.  And I cringed because I know darn well that pretty soon everyone she knows is going to want to run the other way when they see her coming.

So sure enough she asked for all my neighborhood friends' names and contact info.  She was going to cold call them and give them the old sales pitch.

So one of the people she calls is Nearly-Big-Red who she has known for years and knows of LB's pursuit of an acting career out in L.A.

LB had told me she was going to call Nearly-Big-Red and I dreaded that one.

LB said she was so rude and hung up on her!

Crazy!  Maybe she needs to be reminded of the fact of when her mother was unemployed I purchased several hundred dollars worth of skin care products from her.

I haven't seen Nearly-Big-Red since that happened but you can best believe that old momma is gonna let her know I know.

Anyway, I cannot even fathom doing or saying something rude to someone because of their goal in life.  Does this make them feel better about their own miserable existence?  Are they jealous that they are not throwing caution to the wind and pursing what their heart desires rather than pulling in the big bucks in a job they simply abhor?  Jealousy and envy, pure and simple I think.  That's what I tell LB at least.  Why would anyone do such a thing?  Does it really give that much satisfaction to tear someone down.

Makes one wonder, doesn't it?

Duty Calls

My friend that I reconnected with in September contacted me today and invited me to meet her and her husband in New Orleans over Christmas.  Either 'Nawlins' or Jamaica. 

Wow...I would love to...

But  I can't.

And I'm a bit jealous that they can.

L is a couple of years younger than me.  Her husband J is my age, I believe.  They married and had their family a lot earlier than I did so their youngest is around 27.  All their children are grown and educated and pretty much started on their own path.

So L and J don't necessarily have to be home central for the holidays.

And L is one of eight kids so she also doesn't have full custodial care of her parents, both in their 80's.

So they're definitely at a different point than me.  And did I mention that her husband is 'retired'?  Yes, he is a CPA and he retired from his company, they moved to the beach and he now does accounting for several hotels.  His job is flexible; hers too as she is a therapist.

Nice.

I truly enjoy doing the whole home for the holidays thing, I really do, but this flexibility is proving intriguing too.  It would be nice to at least have the option.  With my plans of spending 24 hours back east for my father's death anniversary I have gotten resistance from my mom.  Can you imagine if I just deep sixed holidays at home all together?? Yikes!  Sacrilege!

Maybe it's more about raising your family up to be independent... Even though L and J actually have grandchildren they don't seem to have the need to be present in their lives all.the.time.  I think our society has somewhat blurred the lines of familial responsibilities and expectations.  It seems that children are taking longer to launch and be independent and become grown ups.  I concede, I believe it's the parents' fault and I can be guilty in this regard.  We all seem to just want to swoop in and rescue them.

But that doesn't help them achieve maturity, independence and self-esteem, does it?  But it's also hard to do  And I am thinking that it's actually harder for divorced parents.  I mean, we probably feel we've already let them down in some way so why not try and make everything else OK?

Not a good idea.

I'm always learning...self appraisal, self awareness.  When I stayed with L and J in September it was a good scenario for me.  They have been married 30 years.  Certainly have had their ups and downs but seemingly are truly one unit.  A team.  We hear about that all the time but do we ever really see examples.  Well I now have.  And it is refreshing.  Maybe their children are so independent because their parents are so grounded.  And devoted to one another.

Yikes.  I'm in trouble.

You know I skirt the issues of my marriage in my posts but I do have to say this, it wasn't always crappy with former spouse and myself.  We used to laugh - ALOT - and I believe it's so important.  When we stopped laughing...well that's when the cracks began to show.  And we were a team for awhile...a long while.  Why former spouse used to tell me quite often "[my name], you are my rock".  Don't really recall when that got off the track but it was a gradual, eroding type of process.  I had many people comment to me over the years that former spouse and I seemed to be soul mates.  Even our daughter-in-law commented once that for all the crap, we were really, truly soul mates.  Oh my...

So L and J have cracked the code.  They have gotten it right.  You know I was just reading online one very, very important trait to make sure your mate possesses...and that is how they will react...how they will treat you in illness.  Oh, you say people certainly step up in times of trouble, in times of sickness.  Actually, not always.  Now in the case of L and J, he has seen her at death's door.  She was very, very ill - for about six months - with C-diff (that was misdiagnosed and that mistake nearly killed her).  She was so ill that she lost all her hair, lost control over her bowels, was so weak she couldn't walk or raise her arms and she still has - and will have - residual health deficits because of it.  Through it all J was her rock.

I remember an instance, maybe a year or so before our divorce, when former spouse and I both said we didn't want to be nursemaids.  Ouch.  I said it first because I was so fed up with his not taking care of himself.  At nearly 300 pounds, he was just getting more and more sedentary and his health was starting to suffer for it.  I tried to cook healthy, balanced meals and encourage him to join me on my daily walks to no avail.  "I don't think you're supposed to exercise every day" and he was serious when saying this!  So I told him I didn't want to be a nursemaid, thinking it may goad him into taking better care of himself.  Nope.  He just reacted with "Well I don't want to be a nursemaid either."

Also empathy on his part was ALWAYS lacking in our relationship.  I used to say that he had cornered the market on pain and suffering because no one was ever as sick or sicker than him.  I actually had gone through some very scary heart issues - for several years - most of which he missed when he was working overseas.  When he came home one Christmas and I was having a bout of heart racing, he mimicked me and chided "oh my heart, my heart".  Not cool.

So anyway, don't know how I got on the path of talking about how insensitive or boorish spousal behavior can become but I know this...L and J have it figured out.  The partnership thing.  The respect thing.  The mutual love thing.

And you can't bottle that.  Which is too bad...

So by having this wonderful, solid marriage, they can go to New Orleans at Christmas.

Nice.

Orbiting the Mother Ship

As I wrote in my post '50', this Christmas I will be observing the 50th anniversary of my father's death the only place that I, in good conscience, can this year - at his graveside 1600 miles from my current home.  I will leave Christmas Eve morning, arrive in the city of my birth midday and spend the rest of the day absorbing said fair city.  In the evening I hope to attend Christmas Eve service at the church near my hotel.  Christmas morning I will take the subway to the cemetery.  I am, in an odd way, really looking forward to this pilgrimage.

I have not been, however, looking forward to informing my mother of my plans.

I bought my ticket back in May.  Waited months to tell my children that I would be making this trip alone and assuring them that I will be home Christmas evening whereby we can still have a meaningful celebration.

But I have been extremely hesitant to tell my mother...because my gut was telling me that her reaction would most likely NOT be favorable.

And it wasn't.

I took off a half day of work today to take mom to her opthomalogist's appointment.  I have been doing these appointments with her lately because her eyesight has gotten so bad (cataracts - which she has always REFUSED to have removed - and now macular degeneration.)

On the drive over she was telling me all about her recent bouts with insomnia.  How she lays in bed at night unable to sleep and how she starts rehashing old stuff in her mind.   OLD STUFF.  Situations that happened decades ago.  With people long dead.

"I'm thinking that I would have done some things differently"

Hmmm...

"Interesting" I thought to myself.  Mom had NEVER EVER intimated that she was ever remorseful for anything she's ever done or said in her life.  She just never seems to have that reflective quality.  She does, however, usually turn everything to her advantage, i.e., circumstances and/or other people precipitated her bitterness with life in general and her reactions therefor.

In short, mom is not a happy person.  Never has been.  Of course, she's had a lot of crap in her life to deal with but haven't we all?  Isn't that life?

So I'm setting you up with the picture of mom.  She's never had friends - well, one from high school that lives 1000 miles away that she talks to by phone once in awhile.  But NEVER any social connections.  No neighbors to laugh with, no friends from 35 years of working, no friends at all.

And family?  Mom finds fault with those who are left.  Her only nephew, my cousin N, she hasn't seen nor spoken to him in about 20 years.  I maintain a close relationship with him and it pains him that she doesn't want anything to do with him.

"I don't know what I did..." he sadly told me a couple of years ago.  I assured him that it was nothing that he did.  

I don't fare much better.  I made peace a long time ago that my mom was not going to be my friend.  Nor my nurturer.  Nor my cheering section.  Nor my place of comfort.

Yep.  Mother didn't mother.

Anyway, you can kind of get the picture.

So today I am listening.  I try to be to my mom everything that she is not to me.  I really do...because I am all she has.  And it is hard because, boy, she sure does know how to lash out and push the old buttons.  Back in my younger days I could go head to head with her and debate a point.  A point, I might add, that I was to never win.  If a person cannot discuss something rationally you can never have any kind of thoughtful resolution.  It took me quite awhile to learn that one.

She wouldn't go into detail about just what she thinks about.  She did concede that some thoughts have to do with my father...and her mother and father...and my stepfather.  Individually, of course, not collectively.

Well I could think of a couple of times when she was downright cruel to her mother, my grandmother.  Like the time my grandmother, who must have been in her late 70s, was - thinking that she had done something very responsible and caring - informing my mom that she had had a will drawn up and that C, mom's older sister, was the executor and that everything would be split 50/50.  I remember my mother was incensed and berated my grandmother for not choosing her, the younger daughter.  Her reasoning?  Who knows?

Or maybe mom was thinking back to the time when my grandmother had very gently questioned her about her impending plans to remarry.  I'm not sure exactly why but my grandmother was concerned over mom's plans to marry the man who would become my stepfather.  Oh I remember that 'conversation'.  Mom hit the roof.  She and I and my grandmother were riding in our car and mom stopped and ordered my weeping grandmother OUT!  Yep.  That was horrible.  I was eleven and my heart was breaking at the scene of my beloved, tiny little grandmother dejectedly getting out of our car and my mother screeching off.  That little scene got Grandmother, Aunt C and me UNINVITED to the wedding.

So, yeah, there are some things that I bet weigh on mom's mind...and heart, apparently.

And did I mention that mom is horribly afraid of death?  And I bet she figures out a way to cheat it!

So after the appointment we went to dinner and I figured I would finally tell her.

"This year Christmas is going to be a little different" I started.

And I proceeded to tell her my plans.

The great thing about mom is that she doesn't hold anything back.  You know exactly WHEN you've stepped in it.

She sat across from me smirking and slowly shaking her head.  The 'condescending shake' is what my son likes to call it.

I explained that I would be home in the evening on Christmas Day and we could do dinner then.  Not a good idea - too late.

'Well, maybe I'll take a trip somewhere too'

UGH this is not a pleasure trip...not a vacation.

'Well I have NO desire to relive that day'  And so on and so on the recriminations continued.

Not surprised.  Why did I hold out any hope that she would understand...or empathize...or just support me in this decision?

Nope, it was all about her.  Just like it always has been.

Then sitting there at dinner she did precede to relive the day.  How my grandmother and Aunt C were expected at our apartment for Christmas dinner and how she was preparing and my dad was MIA.  She just figured that he was out on a tear.  At 11:00 a.m. the county cop called and very matter of factly asked if she owned a '63 Falcon and if (NAME) was her husband and that he was dead.  Killed in a head on collision in the wee hours of Christmas day.  How the Times-Herald reported that she too had been killed in the accident because her shoes, which were in the car, were strewn about at the scene of the accident.  How wonderful her place of employment was to her (the only positive thing she had to say in the whole dissertation).  How my Aunt C and her son, my cousin N - my mother's nephew who she so selfishly will no longer associate with - went to the morgue and identified my father.  NO ONE SHOULD HAVE TO GO TO THE MORGUE ON CHRISTMAS DAY.  Cousin N was 24 years old - the age of my daughter.  I cannot imagine.  How she didn't remember much about the first few days except that my father was given a military burial - gun salute and Taps.  And how my father's family left right from the funeral to drive 12 hours back to their home state.  She faulted them for this but the truth of the matter was they all probably had hourly jobs and in their meager existence time was money.

All about how she felt.

No mention of me.

Of course not.

And she wonders why on earth I want to go there.

I want to pay my respects to my father, something that I have never been encouraged nor allowed to do. If I cry at his grave site-- I'm overdue.  I want to face my grief. I want to continue my journey in reconciling that grief.  I want to continue to progress and love and feel and have emotions.

Basically I don't want to be my mother.

All Saints Day

I am unapologetically Episcopalian and today we celebrate All Saints Day - the day of remembering the dead.  Beautiful music, beautiful message.

Actually this is a follow up to my post '50' of a couple of days ago.

I'm not 'sliding' anymore.  A day or so ago another wave of calm and presence washed over me.  I was sunny and happy.  Even texted my special friend to pass along such good vibes.

Maybe it was because it was payday and for about 10 days I will actually have cash.

No, seriously, little by little I'm emerging.  A new person of sorts.  Wow, this hard fought freedom is really doing something for me.

I'm moving forward.

My favorite mantra "Life is for the Living"  Noun and verb.

What better way to honor those who have gone ahead but than to strive to live a full and honorable and authentic life.

As they say "This is not a dress rehearsal!"

So out of the the darkness of my feelings, my being, I peek.  All clear?  I think I shall walk on the light side as much as I can. My father lived his entire life within 37 years.  I can see him 37 and raise him...oh?...maybe 40 or 50 more!

Carpe diem!

50

Fifty.  It's such a huge number.  To me at least.

In two months will be the 50th anniversary of my father's death.  And I have special plans for it.

Right now, though, I feel I'm slipping.  Sliding into a gaping hole that is that number.  50:  Five and the HUGE, bottomless ZERO that threatens to suck me into its vortex.  The visual - me scratching, futilely clawing at the ground while I slide feet first toward the big, black, bottomless pit.

Pretty dramatic, huh? 

Well, that's how I feel.

Save for six years, I've lived my entire life without a father, my father.  There have been periods in my life when this fact has been more profound than others.  Like right after the death and the years immediately after.  Or when I was a young woman venturing out into the dating world.  Then I went years without really going there.  When I married and started my own family I honestly felt very little about the absence of my father.  I guess my family filled up my empty space, covered over the loss and pain that I had felt all those years. Filled me up with joy and promise and hope. 

Well now, as I have written, I am going it alone.  Divorced.  Living single.  Kiddos doing well and pretty much grown.  Having a lot of time alone means I have had a lot of time to think. A lot of time to dredge up old feelings, old memories.  So many issues and feelings covered over, pushed down. To feel them - to recognize them - sometimes good; sometimes not so good.  In this case, I have reconciled - validated - some issues I have had all along. Issues of abandonment; of unworthiness, of having a hard time trusting.  The fact of the matter is the loss of my father defined my life.

My work with the children's grief counseling group has helped me beyond measure.  I continue to question and to grow and to feel.

On Christmas Eve I will board a flight to the city of my birth.  Alone.  I bought my ticket six months ago even before I started the grief counseling.  I guess this is just my year!  I waited months to tell my children.  They didn't ask any questions.  Didn't want to I guess.  It bewilders them to see their mother upset so they didn't want to go there. I will fly into my home city and stay in a hotel in town.  The next morning, Christmas Day, I will be at the only place I can be this Christmas.  At my father's grave.

I am teary even writing about it. I know it will be emotional but I am not afraid of emotions. Not anymore. 

This will only be the second time I will have visited my father's grave.  The first time was in 2010 with my children.  I didn't even break down.  My kids, they were so diligently searching my face. 'Are you ok, mama?'  Yes I was. When I went in 2010 I thought it was the second time I had been there.  When we returned from that trip I asked my mom how old I was when she took me there (as I was not allowed to go to the funeral).

"I never took you there.  I never went back after the funeral."

That was like a punch in the stomach.

She never even went back to see if his headstone was placed?  Now I must admit that I'm not a gravesite visitor.  My philosophy is that's just a memorial.  The person, the spirit, has risen and resides elsewhere.  But never to go back, even once?  Wow.

Needless to say, I still haven't told my mother my plans for this Christmas.

So there you have it.  Wish me luck. Say a novena for me.  In my heart of hearts I imagine it to be a very serene environment to be on Christmas Day.  In the presence of angels...

Unsocial Media

Been trying to stay away from Facebook lately; hasn't worked. I go on it every damn day.  I haven't been posting, just stalking.

My reason for trying to take a break? A little bit of this, a little bit of that. And my ex is on it ALL THE TIME.  Jeez, he just posts and posts.  Pictures.  Feel good quotes (What?  Is he trying to convince himself?  He was always such a Donnie Downer).  And quotes about bad things happening and loyalty.  Gee...I wonder...He's not a FB friend of mine though he REPEATEDLY asks to be.  Nope.  That's just not kosher right now.  Maybe down the road...waaaay down the road.  He can see my profile pic and Cover pic.  As a matter of fact, I noticed that a 'share' was noted on my profile pic...so I followed the 'share'.  Yep.  Ex had it posted to his wall.  Arrgh...

Anyway everyone seems a bit 'meh' right now on FB.  Maybe they're all out enjoying the glorious fall weather.  Hope so.  Hope everything is OK with everyone.  Or maybe they actually have a life.  As I have written in prior posts, I feel the need to connect in real life more.  Somehow sitting alone in my house with my laptop on my lap is not as appealing as having someone next to me on the sofa.  And, while I am over the moon at my connecting with old friends, I recognize I need to check in more with the ones who do the day-to-day with me.

Anyway, truth be told, I am still smarting from that not so subtle snark about me 'chasing my past'. Jeez...is that really anyone's business but mine?

Oh well, I always thought FB was the BIGGEST Christmas letter in the world.

So I'll let you know how it goes.  I have two Halloween parties this week.  Let's see if I actually go to them...or will I make an excuse and not have a costume... or be too tired...and not go.

I also need to get back to exercising.  I am porking out a bit and I need to get a handle on this.  Stress and stress eating.  And Cortisol.  The damn Cortisol.

Starting tomorrow - more exercising, less FB.  More water, less booze.  More veggies, less ice cream.

Oh, The Places I Will (Want to) Go...

I've been to 32 of the 50 states, including Alaska and Hawaii and I have been to Canada.  I have been to Europe 5 times.

But I haven't been to the following iconic U.S. cities and I very much want to visit them:

1. San Francisco
2. Chicago
3. New Orleans

I've seen Stonehenge and the Eiffel Tower but I really want to see the Grand Canyon and Mount Rushmore.

Thank you for indulging me...the little bit of gypsy in me is revving up...again.

Live Life

I found out quite by accident this evening that someone who was once in my 'inner' circle has suffered a terrible loss. "E" was the long time girlfriend of Former Spouse's best bud "G".  They were a wonderful couple, complimented each other well.  Everyone was just dumbfounded that they were together for so long but then *poof* splitsville.

Both E and G went on to date others.  E even got married.  She was in her forties at the time.  Her choice shocked many...G had always been so dynamic...personable...and good looking.  Her husband really was none of these but seemed pleasant just the same...or so we all thought.

E ended up divorcing her husband for the same reason she had split from G - alcoholism.  His.

Anyway, we saw E in 2008 with her then current boyfriend "T".  I could tell immediately that they were MAGIC together.  E always, ALWAYS, had an effervescent quality about her.  She was just electric.  A megawatt smile.  She glowed especially now beside T.  And T was just a wonderful guy.  He exuded happiness, contentment and confidence. It did our hearts, F.S. and mine, good to see E so terribly happy after several romantic disasters.

Well, tonight I found out that T died...in 2011.

First, I feel terrible we did not know at the time and did not reach out to E.  Secondly, I just feel very, very sad that she lost such a wonderful soulmate.  It looked like she had finally achieved a lasting, loving relationship and then he was tragically taken by illness.

Seems they had married; so that had to have happened since the last time we saw them in 2008.  I am happy for her in that regard.  There is a FB memorial to T with many wonderful pictures, including lots of E with T.  They were committed.  They looked to infinitely happy and joyful together.

I am sure they made the most of every moment they had in their life together. They seemingly had cracked the code.  Found that pleasant balance.

What is the secret?  Why do so many of us just look and look?  I firmly believe that it starts - and ends - with personal happiness, contentment and positivity.  E and T had all those qualities and more.  Like I keep telling my kids, you have got to be happy with yourself FIRST before you can commit yourself to a loving, respectful relationship.  I also think that you just shouldn't try that hard...just BE and see what happens.  We all spend too much time thinking about the way we should be or how our mate should be when really we should just BE...just LIVE life.

Social media is a breeding ground for conjecture.  I like to say Facebook is the world's biggest Christmas letter.  God I hate those letters. Who ever tells the whole truth in those??  Myself included.  Facebook is all about perception.  We all, once again - myself included, put out there words to live by...happy inspiring little slogans.  Be this,be that.  I bet E and T never had to do that because they were all those things anyway...without much trying probably.

So though it is tragic that E lost her love way before his time, they sure did LIVE to the fullest and certainly LOVED to the fullest.

We can all take note...

Well???? What's Your Answer??

I'm feeling a growth spurt emotionally coming on - watch out!  HaHa!

Ohhh....I know I've been a bit philosophical lately...manic, maybe?  A little lonely and down perhaps? Well, back to business, DAMMIT!  HaHa!

You know I was reading that for every year you're married, it takes a month to 'get over' it. Well if that's the case, I'm about half done.  Not that I wasn't 'over it' when I filed.  What I'm getting used to now is my 'purpose'.  The kids are pretty much out.  And though I LOVE my own space, I have been in a relationship for 28 years (30 if you count the two years we courted - or he courted me (another really good post sometime)).  So even if the last ten years or so were spent with a 300 lb. lump next to me on the couch...at least I had someone living and breathing there.  Good thing I'm used to living single.  Did it fairly well til I was 28 years old.  Being an only child helps.  But some things are just better with another human being.  Like travel...and meals...and theater...and watching TV...and hugging.  Ugh...I digress.

Anyway, for me the way around the fact that I'm single and flying solo mostly, is to GET OUT THERE and show up. Pitch in.  The very best way to beat the doldrums, for me, is to be apart of a group.  Volunteering...working part-time...social groups.  That last one is sometimes difficult for me because I tend to 'hide' when I think everything in my life is not what it should be.  I think that I'm my worst critic.  Seriously, my friends could probably care less about where I am in my life.  Oh not to say they don't care but they don't measure my success like I'm thinking they do. Hell, they're probably too busy with their own lives to notice.

So anyway, I'm saying all this because I'm chomping at the bit for what's next. What's next for me?  I  know I don't want to live out my years in my current state.  I have written before that I want to live at the beach.  Fine.  But what the hell am I going to do at the beach?  I'm not one to sit around all day.  I guess I'm kind of hyperactive in that regard (goes with my BIG vice of IMPATIENCE)  Ugh...

So I'm putting it out there for you...all 330 of you who grace my page...here are the things that I think could give me life:

• I would like to redo an old house.  Got my eye on one near the beach on the coast (you'll have to guess which coast)
• I love my work with the grief counseling.  It continues to be my current life force and fulfillment.  However, if I am to truly pursue this on a bigger level once my current job ends, either by my choice (hopefully) or by attrition on the part of my employer, I need to further my education.  I do not have a four year degree but am hopefully half way there.  I need to set a goal for myself to find out what exactly I need to do to make this my act two employment/devotion.

That brings me to another factoid about me...I'm not much of a planner.  Oh, I definitely have accomplished what I set out to do with my life...I always wanted a family.  Now that may not seem like a huge goal in our society...it may even prove cringe worthy to some feminists but I wholeheartedly believe it is a lofty calling and I wholeheartedly believe that I have provided the world with two incredibly gifted and caring individuals and am very proud of it!  I and former spouse did provide a stable (whatever that really means) growing up environment for our two and hopefully we haven't screwed them up too badly.  I devoted my being to those two little munchkins and loved EVERY moment of it.  But know what?...they grow up...and leave.  And I'm a little surprised that I'm really kind of feeling...'now what?'.  Wow...empty nest syndrome really EXISTS.

So because I stayed at home...and dumped my hubby...I am kind of behind the eight ball financially.  So I am kind of dependent on the survival job-not really a career calling-employment I now have.  Hopefully will continue to have until I no longer want to have it.

But know what?  If that goes away...maybe that will punt kick me into the next phase of my life?

So back to the list... 

• I REALLY enjoy travel.
• I truly enjoy writing;
• I love being creative
• I love entertaining so much so that running a small B&B/inn is not out of the question.

Gee, this feel good, telling my feelings thing is EASY!  And it feels GREAT.

So now to lay down a plan...some kind of plan...Hmmmm....there's that 'planning' again - YIKES!

So enough about me...

I'm OK

Sometimes the comfort of God blows over me like a calm, warm breeze.  Unexpectedly.  Often unsolicited.  Never immediate in a time of crisis but rather when I've had a period of adjustment to whatever situation presented itself to cause me to go into despondency...then I am ultimately - thankfully - quieted.

And I am OK.

The past several months have been rough.  I have really looked inward to try and determine if I was self generating stress.  Actually, I found that it ran about 50/50.

Work, where I spend most of my waking hours, is a beating at the moment.  I am employed at an institution of higher learning.  Our school's Board of Trustees voted to engage an outside consulting firm to identify areas where the University could cut costs.  Uh oh...you know what that means.

This process is taking place over a period of one year; we're about one third in.  Supposedly, campus-wide there will be about 15 initiatives, overhauls, if you will.

The department in which I work has been identified as Initiative No. 2.  Apparently, we're popular.

Two-thirds of the campus personnel interviewed crucified our office.

Wow.

We are a small administrative department on campus.  Not to divulge too much but let's just say Shakespeare's 'First let's kill all the lawyers' will give you a clue.

yeah.

So, like I said, we're small and overtaxed already.  We have four professionals on staff along with four admin staff. Things are tense to say the least.

Strange, but the outside entity that has come in for the year is enlisting University employees as facilitators.  Teams have been formed for each initiative.  And one of our administrative staff has been asked to be on the team for our office's initiative.  And our executive did not even know until it was announced campus wide.

So we have an insider working with the team and basically reviewing info, interviewing personnel campus-wide about our office.  Totally weird and awkward (for this person because the meetings where folks across campus are sharing their experiences and expectations of our office are NOT pretty).  And the job is proving to be all consuming for this individual.  This person doesn't even get to do the job they're paid to do.

Along with the staff member who is now a team member of the consultants, the rest of us have also had added to our responsibilities all the reports and data requested by the consultants.  So we're all striving to present that material in the most comprehensive and concise way possible AND to keep up with our normal office matters, the same matters and responsibilities that other University staff are lambasting us over.

So we're all a little on edge.  Of the three admin staff, all fear for their longevity at the University.  I am one of them.  Each of us has expressed to the other our fears and thoughts that 'it's gonna be me that gets canned.'  Each of us works very diligently in the eight hours a day/five days a week we are on campus.

But the overall feeling is 'They already know what they're going to do'; that all the interviewing, etc. is just a tool of the transparency the consultants have been touting.  If I attend another rah-rah 'Look how great for the University this is going to be in the long run' I think I will just puke.

The way I see it all info is gathered and disseminated and in the end the consultants will apply their rubric to the data/info and recommend what needs to be done.  Right now, it seems as if the 'solutions' are automating everything, which is really going to be interesting.

Friend/co-worker that is on the team graces my doorway quite frequently alternatively freaking out that it will be her that gets laid off or defiantly proclaiming that after all the work she's done on the team she 'better not be the one' getting pink slipped.  One day, a week or so ago, upon hearing her latter stance for the umpteenth time, it just struck a cord with me and I reacted and committed the cardinal sin of the workplace.

I burst into tears.

My reaction, I explained to my friend, was one of being overwrought; tired of all the speculation and the utter discord and tenseness the whole initiative was bringing to our workplace.  How the University - once a place we all appreciated, valued and acknowledged as an environment that afforded a balanced quality of life place of employ - was now a place where no one felt secure, no one felt valued because ultimately we are all just going to be a number on a balance sheet. I also went on to tell her that by her coming into my office and proclaiming that it better not be her that is outplaced, she was pretty much insinuating that me or our other admin office mate would be the preferred choice for the sacrifice.  Really?  I mean, how insensitive?!

Strange - not that I expected her to - but she didn't back pedal her stance in the least.  Didn't even really have ANYTHING comforting to say, as you would think a friend would. Makes you wonder...

So now, I have taken a deep breath and just given up my worry to the Almighty.  I mean, what's gonna happen is gonna happen.  I cannot worry about something none of us can change or influence.  I have spent eight years at the University.  It was my return to the workplace job after being home raising my kids for thirteen years. It has been wonderful place to work with great benefits.  The greatest benefit is my kids have attended tuition free.  LB graduated in 2012 and LP is currently a sophomore.  In this day and age, for them to graduate debt free is a real gift.  So the University has been good to me and I will always be very grateful. But I am far from wanting my employment to end. I am single and have to think about my security.  The fact that I am within two years of being vested in my retirement is very concerning to me.  It would be really shitty for them to cut me loose before I can vest.  But it is a distinct possibility.

And I cannot drive myself insane with stress and worry over it.

So I will just take a deep breath and hope and pray for an outcome that is beneficial to all...

Good Lord willing...

First Time For Everything

So tonight I did something I had never done before ...went to a bar...alone.  All prettied up, butt on the barstool.  Yep.

Now don't be too impressed.  It is Wednesday night.  And it was the bar at my local little Italian restaurant which is within walking distance of my house. And I was the ONLY person at the bar the entire time I was there. 

Let's just say tonight was my training wheels for the bigger show.  A Friday or a Saturday night...at a more active venue. What a departure.  I mean I was the person who always maintained you can't meet anyone of substance in a bar.  So now I'm saying 'Who's looking for substance?'

What the hell am I looking for?  Not sure.  But I do know at the very minimum I'm just looking for human contact.  Is that not the most pathetic thing you've ever heard? Seems I'm not the badass single woman 'I-can-rock-this-whole-middle-aged-starting-over-thing' person I promote.  Jesus, less than five years ago I was a soccer mom, still making dinner for my family, checking homework and keeping the home fires burning.  Today, I'm divorced (still ok with that one), the kids don't live at home and all I do is exercise and work all day.  I looked at myself between the bottles lined up in front of the obligatory bar mirror.  Who is this person?  At risk of sounding conceited, I  am looking pretty fine, I must say.

Anyway, I enjoyed my wine, my kibitzing with my server and watching a very strange ESPN Reebok competition with very muscular women reminiscent of Jim Carrey as Helga on In Living Color.  Juxtapose this weird program (being viewed on mute) with the lovely piped in music (mostly love songs a al Dino or Frank) and it made for quite an evening.

Of course, everything was fine until my favorite song...'The way you look tonight" came on.

'Bartender...another please'

And the topper of the evening?  While I sitting there enjoying my wine and gazing upon my stunning countenance in the mirror, I hear...

"King of the Road" 

What a weird song to be playing in this venue.  Certainly did not fit with the usual lounge music type tunes featuring the melodious tones of crooners like Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra or Harry Connick.

I hadn't heard nor thought about that song in years.

Significance?

Well it was my father's favorite song, of course.

Of course...

EPIC FAILS

EPIC FAIL:  (Dictionary.com) Slang. A spectacularly embarrassing or humorous mistake, humiliating situation, etc., that is subject to ridicule and given a greatly exaggerated importance.

I will certainly be adding to this list...so check back often.

1.  Overshares of pretty much any variety...like when you share with your teenage daughter that her dad was 'Lucky Number 7'.  She was shocked at the time but apparently not so shocked in that she did not hesitate to share with a few friends, with whom I am friends with their mothers, via whom I learned of LB's share years later.  We live in the Bible belt and that news just kinda makes you look like a 'Ho.

2.  Finding out your dog has chewed a hole in crotch of your spandex bike shorts...just about the same time as everyone else in your yoga class finds out too.

3.  That last post of mine...jeez.  Being overly tired and amphetamines do NOT mix.6. 

4.  Seeing your petite co-worker out with her family of strapping six foot brothers and saying :"Hey Sheila, You the only midget in your family?" when around the corner comes her only sister...who's a little person.  I know...

5.  Having your teenage son see you pour a shot of Kahlua in your morning coffee traveler.  "Isn't that alcohol?" he asks.  Me:  "It's sweetener".  I don't think he bought it.

6.  You better make darn sure that you have a good chance, A VERY GOOD CHANCE, that you're going to be entertaining down south before you shave - neatly landscape - your nether regions...because if it doesn't happen, you're going to be frustrated AND itchy and prickly and really pissed off. Yep.

So There

Time to put on the big girl panties and get a life, a real life.  With real people who want to see me.  Who aren't afraid of failure.  Who aren't afraid of emotions.  Time to get the big love on with someone.  What the hell am I waiting for????  I'm gonna buy a big ol' box of condoms and go to town.

I am tired and cranky tonight and freakin' sick of coming home to NOTHING.

And I am me.  Middle aged, damn good looking and bright so I need to STOP acting like a DAMN fool!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yeah so I may not be gaggy sweet or blowing bubbles out my butt because I'm so positive and upbeat!  Wheeeee!!!!!  That just ain't normal.  Sorry but I don't do perky.  So I'm not brilliant or super educated or - UGH - all those other superlatives but ya know what???  I am the REAL DEAL.  I FEEL and I live an authentic life.  Everyone has stresses and problems and fears.  But if we reach out we can sort shit out together.  Isn't that what the human race is for????  Living together, loving together and learning together???

And I am brave...and strong.  BRAVE, BRAVE, BRAVE and STRONG, STRONG, STRONG.

And I'll tell you what else I am -- REALLY IMPATIENT.  So OK, I concede this is a BIG flaw of mine.  But it gets the job(s) done.

I put myself out there and wanted NOTHING in return except a little consideration on a BIG hunch I have - HAD - on something I just KNEW would be GREAT.  No pie in the sky; no dewy looks - real. It does happen.  But, well, I guess we'll never know now, will we??

I did not care if you were up to your eyeballs in debt, had a cute spare tire, or if your equipment didn't work anymore or you hadn't gotten cast in two years (though I did care for your feelings and morale in that regard - NO, NO, NO - NO sweetness - stick to the script woman!)  SILLY ME!  I was about to make a REAL ASS of myself and try to talk you into coming to my city, live with me, anyway you wanted it - plenty of room.  I figured you could recalibrate, do some work locally (I even talked with an acquaintence of mine who is well established in the local market.  He said it's better and more open than it's been in 20 years.  He's about 70 and also does a lot of VO work. He gave me the names of the 3 best agents in town).  And then if we found we grooved together we would move to the beach.  I wouldn't have asked for dime...whatever...

So if you are reading this you're probably all like 'Ugh see, this is my I steer clear of entanglements' Well buddy boy if you were with me, it would be a whole different ballgame than what you've been used to...I have staying power and I am freaking AMAZING!  And a lot of fun and very, very loving.

So there...

You probably never even read this fucking blog.  Don't think I don't know that you sometimes massage the truth.  No worries.  I know you just don't want to disappoint or whatever.  It doesn't matter anymore.

I'm guessing about now the readership I have in Europe is saying 'I knew those American bitches are crazy'.

Yeah and I even liked chicken livers and yellow cake with milk chocolate icing and (Diet) Pepsi.  How perfect is that?

If We Saw Ourselves As Others See Us

"Oh would some power the gift give us, To see ourselves as others see us."- Robert Burns.

In my simplistic little outlook, how much time and energy we could save if we saw ourselves as others see us.  If we could be kinder to ourselves, prouder of ourselves; give ourselves more credit.

This past weekend, I traveled back to the east coast, where I am from, and visited two childhood friends, sisters.  We met each other about 43 years ago when we were young teens.  Gosh that seems so long ago!  We last saw each other on my wedding day - 28 years ago.

How time flies!  And how did so much time pass and let us get away from one another??  As children we were thick as thieves.  They were neighborhood friends living two doors up from me.  We spent every day we could together when we were young.  Even when they moved away to another state, we stayed in touch.  My mom drove me up there in the summers for long weekends; their mom drove me back.  I had been in both their weddings.  Saw both of them become mothers for the first time.

And then...well, I guess we all got busy with our lives.

I remember I loved being at their house.  You see their family had eight children.  Heaven for me the only child!  I was just one of the many up there and I enjoyed their younger brothers as much as I enjoyed being with the girls.  It was chaos while my house was a tomb.  Someone was always yelling and running and getting in trouble.  Meal times were well orchestrated events.  Be slow and you could go hungry.

For this blog I will refer to the sisters as S and L, S being a year older than me and L being two years younger.  We reconnected via Facebook a couple of months ago.  The trip has been long planned and awaited.

This past weekend was game on!

I really, honestly had NO reservations about going to see them.  They did.  L told me they wondered if we would have awkwardness, disconnected quietness between us.  I did not anticipate that at all.  And I was not disappointed.

L told me right before I arrived she and S were excitedly talking about the reunion that was imminent..

"Oh I love [my name].  She was always so much fun and we could always just be ourselves around her" L said S had gushed.

And when L's doorbell rang with me on the doorstep, L said they just squealed and hugged each other like little girls.  I actually heard them both exclaim inside "[my name]!"

The door was opened and all 28 years washed away.

As I like to say when referring to myself - the product is the same but the packaging has changed over the years.  And we were still very much the three girls underneath the women we had become.

So, of course, we got to the present first.  S was divorced as I was.  Her marriage lasted 29 years and she has been married to her second husband six years now.  I was interested in how they met and she said online and that they had met six months after her divorce was final.  S always was the sister to have a boyfriend.  

L has been married to her husband for 30 years come November.  Wow!  And I can tell they are very committed to each other and J is very much a hands on husband.

Words, stories and feelings tumbled forward.  We all at once seemed to alternate benign pleasantries, hysterical memories and injections with those things in life that just make you go 'eh'.  Yes we found that life was just that - life - for the three of us.  I had the feeling of us three long ago, sprawled across beds in their room, discussing boys and philosophies and what we were going to do with our lives.  And here we were, fast forward 40 years, and ours lives had ended up pretty much the way we had envisioned but then again, looking at another angle, really not at all.

Seems that the things we want others to know most have a way at making themselves known.  By that I mean, those things that are somewhat dark but those things that make us who we are.  Quite plainly, life for the three of us certainly wasn't the reality of what it seemed back then.

I was quite surprised to learn, very nearly as soon as I got there, that life was not a picnic in their house growing up.  Apparently their mother and father fought, loudly and intensely, and on top of that their mother played favorites among her eight and L was NOT a favorite...by a long shot.  I will not divulge here the details of their personal struggles but during the course of the weekend so many bad memories were relived by L when revealed to me that my desire to see their parents after 30 years completely disappeared.  Knowing what I know now...these are not people I want to see.

I can tell you that it made me feel good for both 'girls' to tell me that they loved me coming over and spending the night because it meant a night of peace in their household.  I was also told that I was the only outsider, only friend of all the children, that was allowed inside their house - ever.  This surprised me but looking back I don't remember any other children outside their family playing with us.

We laughed over how we loved going over to each other's houses, them mine and mine theirs.  L remembered my pink bedroom verbatim - crazy! And they said they were amazed that at Christmas all the presents under the tree were for me!  I can tell you that L revealed that they NEVER had a good Christmas because their mother would throw all the toys down the stairs, close herself up in a room and maybe, just maybe,emerge nary in time to throw something on the table and call it Christmas dinner.

That was unbelievably sad to me...I would have never guessed.

Over the course of the weekend, two of S and L's brothers joined us at a wine festival.  A great time was had by all and while we were killing about 4 bottles of wine, I noticed T, one of the brothers, sitting across from me and really studying me.

"D, you're just the same.  You look the same and you are laughing and smiling just like you did when we were kids.  I always remember you laughing and smiling...and roller skating up the sidewalk R-E-A-L...S-L-O-W"

HaHa!  That was back in the day of clamp on metal skates with the straps and size adjustment key.  I always hated roller skating!

But oh, laughing and smiling?!  Really?!  The girls agreed.  I always seemed happy.  And that made me feel GREAT.

Kids are resilient I guess...even me.  And though I may think I was always unsure, melancholy and timid, it just goes to show you what the gift of friends can give you. As they say "Friendship doubles the joy and divides the grief."

Amen to that...amen to that.

In A Bit of a Quandary

Jealousy is a strange thing.  Especially when it comes from someone who is supposed to be a friend.

For the past year or so, as I have written, I have reconnected with a number of friends with whom I had lost contact.  It has been a wild, wonderful, smile inducing, sometimes bittersweet, ALWAYS heart brimming ride.

Well, I guess not everyone has thought so...

Seems a friend, a work friend, is going out of her way to drive home to me in sometimes not so subtly couched comments and postings that she is not 'chasing her past', that she's happy and that her husband and daughters are her future and she doesn't need to look backward.  Hmmm...methinks she doth protest too much...

Not quite sure what to do...how to respond...if to acknowledge.  Probably won't.  That's the point, isn't it?  To make me feel small for what is currently lovely for me?  To get a response out of me?  Maybe even to make me feel bad...like she must certainly feel deep down inside because why would anyone chide someone for feeling loved and special and happy?

I just don't get it.

Just jealousy, I guess.

I'll take the high road.  Just smile and be happy and take that road less traveled.

Is There a Card for That?

A couple of days ago, I marked one year of being divorced.  Not that I'm intending to note this every year.  But the first year?  Well it's like the first year of marking anything.  And it doesn't help that not one but two of my office buddies share this date - as their respective wedding anniversaries.  So the longest day is punctuated by not one - but two - deliveries of over the top roses.  And seemingly unending gushing and 'Happy Anniversary'ing over said roses.  And the glowing, kissy kissy Facebook posts by those friends.  Pffft.  I remember both couples in marriage counseling.

But they're still married.

So is there a card commemorating the Assessment of where I am one year later:

Most importantly I am still 100% secure in my decision and that is HUGE. 

Former Spouse, however, is still asking 'What did I do?' and telling me at every opportunity that he still doesn't know why we are divorced.  Precisely.

The latest incarnation of why I divorced him is that I told him I didn't want to be poor.  Never said that.  And I have demonstrated  that is not the case because I am poor and my decision has made me that way.  No, I'm not really poor but there are times that I miss him...his money.  He is jobless but he has a 6 figure bank account...that I let him have.

Yeah, that's how badly I wanted out.  Some things are more important than money.  Like my sanity.

So, secure in my decision.

The downsides:  I have been shutout by my stepson.  Yep.  Been his mom since he was nine but he unfriended me on FB.

'It's only social media' says my student worker.

Me?  It's the cruelest cut.  I'm sure FS has whined and moaned his usual woe is me stories (he now lives with his son and daughter-in-law).  Well I need to focus on me and not get caught up in what others think about me.  I can't control what others think of me.

But what I can change is what I think of me and right now I am empowered  and feeling pretty good about myself.  There are negatives - well one - and that first.  I am back in debt.  Not anything I can't cover monthly but nonetheless back in credit card debt and this is a bit disappointing.  But not  insurmountable.

And now the positives:  I've started taking care of myself:

• I've lost 30 pounds.  I have amped up my fitness levels and am really watching what I eat.  I have regained a lot of respect for myself.  I care about and value myself again.  I love that people notice and I love that attention I get.  And I should get the attention because I have worked HARD at this and it is a BIG accomplishment for me.  I have at least 30 more to go and I will do it.
• I am humbled by the families I encounter in my role at the bereavement counseling organization.    As I have said, the children give me SO much more than I give them.  Being beside them in their journey has opened up a new road to me in my life, my journey. 
• There have been many wonderful reunions with friends this past year...long lost friends.  When I was finally free of my marriage, my heart just opened and I longed to see faces familiar.  It has been wonderful and I will never let those people out of my life again. 
• And finally, after many, many, MANY years of suppressing my feelings, my emotions, I am again (maybe for the first time?) letting those feelings be known.  It started with me telling FS that I was miserable and wanted out of our marriage.  I had feelings, intense convictions, and I was honest.  I let them be known.  Same goes for my strong attachment, my 'crush', if you will, on the individual I wrote about in the previous post.  Even if the feelings aren't quite mutual, aren't returned on the same level as mine...that's OK.  It is really OK.  And the reason that it is ok is the fact that I am feeling and I am telling those feelings and I am healing.  If me having these feelings and letting the person know makes him uncomfortable...I am not sorry  It is not a negative!  How wonderful to have such feelings!!  How wonderful to love and care about someone and tell them.  Give them that gift.  I have wonderful feelings and want them to have wings.  This is NOT saying that I want anything in return.  Oh, of  course, I would LOVE for him to feel the same way - perfection! But if not, I am OK because I am healing and I can express sincere expression and for the first time in forever, I am alive.  And THAT is a great and positive thing!

IJS

Reunion after SO many years.  A beautiful moment.

So many emotions.

Four hours heart to heart.

Two souls finding coordinates in the geometry of life...

Parting again...too soon.  A hug that lingered so beautifully long...you held tight, released markedly last.  Melt.

Infatuated

Besotted.

Befuddled.

Tears.  More tears.  Yearning, longing.  Ridiculous!  Silly old middle age woman.

OK...Cold turkey.  No more yearning.  No more reading - and re-reading - your texts.  No future, no use.  So many miles between.  Move on.

And then?

A text from you...TILT.  Me:  Electric.  Effusive.  Back on!  Screw the 'rules'!

Texts continue.  Months pass.  Another reunion planned.

Together again.  I sense a bit of anxiousness.  I fear I induce nervousness.

Awkwardness (me) at the theater.  Loses something when you have to repeat a playful intimation.  I am slow on the uptake.  Out of practice or simply not thinking you could be flirting with me.  Always thought you were out of my league.

Still do.

Two quick sweet kisses stolen on Broadway.  Looking up into your face - surreal.  A gazillion people swarming the Square on a Saturday night -- at that moment no one there but us.  Why oh why didn't I kiss you back????

The crew all together.  Table of six.  If I could write the script, my whole world - right at that table.

Another parting.  No hugs this time.  Anxiety.  Doubt.

I understand.  I do.  A lot alike.  Same fabric of interwoven melancholy, fears, reservations.  But with our experiences in common maybe...

A chance is all it could take.  JUMP.  I have a feeling.  I have a childlike enthusiasm to just let go and go with it.

No need to be an island.  Two together lessen the load. Your dreams and ambitions I wholeheartedly support and RESPECT.  You.are.amazing and I have loved learning about your journey thus far.  You are so different from what I am used to because you are not lazy, you are not negative and even with all the shit you've gone through in your life, your attitude and demeanor is NOT one of 'oh poor pitiful me'.

That in itself is SO welcome and refreshing to me!

Not asking for a betrothal...just want to maybe explore the possibility of getting closer??  Somewhat scary...I know.

But life is so much better shared. 

So how are you Dollface?

Do you think of me?  I think of you...often. 

I think you could be - become - remain - someone significant in my life.

All this is marginally crazy, I know...

But the fact remains that...

I...

simply...

adore you...IJS

Pause and Reflect

"Pause and Reflect."  That's what the billboard on the highway said today.  With those words, the date 9-11-2001 and two columns representing the towers.

Thirteen years ago.  Amazing that that much time has passed.  Though time does not dull the intense emotion this day elicits.  How can one not be moved by the significance of this day?

Loss of innocence.  Loss of feeling secure.  The date September 11, 2001 joined the ranks of December 7, 1941 and November 22, 1963.  Forever burned in our collective memories.

I was still a stay at home mom back then.  LB was in middle school and LP was a first grader.  On that morning, I was walking into to LP's school to work on launching the annual gift wrap fundraiser.  A friend of mine passed me as I was coming through the front doors.

"I'm going home," she said.  "We're under attack!"

My face obviously registered 'huh?" because she stopped and said "We're under attack.  A plane just hit the World Trade Center!"

My first thought was "oh this has got to be a horrible accident."

Hardly.  I was coming into the school office when the second plane hit.  Many people were crowded around the TV in the principal's office.  Disbelief.  Not a whole lot of words.  Just disbelief.  Eyes riveted on the TV.

Numbly I proceeded down the hall to the teachers' workroom.  The juxtaposition of the happy buzzing of children walking through the hallway and the images I had just seen on the TV made my heart sink.

Their world was never going to be the same again.  What kind of world were they going to inherit where something like this could happen?

More of the same in the teachers' workroom.  Eyes riveted to the TV.

Then the towers came down.  One.  Then the other.  Unspeakable devastation.  It was nearly unbearable to realize the huge, immediate loss of life.  I remember feeling a deep, profound sadness.

Parents were starting to show up at the school to take their children home.  The decision had been made, at least at the elementary school level, NOT to tell the children.  Amazingly, school stayed in session.  This was an unprecedented event.  The best decision, it was agreed, was for the children to stay put.

The rest of the day there at the elementary school was a blur.  I do remember gathering LP at the end of the day.  Him bouncing along full of six year old exuberance, oblivious of the crumbling of the world outside.  We drove to the middle school to pick up LB, LP chattering all the way about this or that.  It was so difficult for me to try and act 'normal'.  Of course, I didn't have to pretend for long. Middle schoolers came pouring out of the building with more speed and deliberation than usual.  I could see LB walking quickly with purpose up to our car.

She flung open the door.

"Mom!  Did you hear what happened?!"  And then just a torrent of questions and observations and collectively trying to make sense of everything.

Turning on TV was the first thing we did and were just glued to it.  Many questions from LP and LB.

Watching the coverage about the World Trade Center and the Pentagon and the plane down in Pennsylvania just made me have an overwhelming desire to be home.  Back in DC.  I could just imagine the worry and confusion there.

I called two friends I hadn't seen in years.  I just had to talk to them.  One was an actress in New York and one a former coworker who I knew had a brother who worked in the WTC.   Both were fine (even the brother who worked at the WTC) and both seemed so comforted and touched that I had called and  I was so glad I did.  The years - they melted away when we heard each others' voices.

FS then came home.

"Makes you wonder if there really is a God." were his first words to his family.

At that moment, I had a 'who is this person?' realization.

To me, that day God was EVERYWHERE.  The humanity; the self sacrifice; the compassion, kindnesses and the pulling together; the reverence - that was God at work.

If there was any 'good' to come out of this horrible event, it was the resolve, the resilience of the American people as they rose to the occasion.  And patriotism, if you will, was demonstrated even among those not usually predisposed to showing any outward allegiance.  This tragedy brought out the very best in mankind.

True, we are no longer the same country.  Tested.  Violated.  Shaken to our core.  Hopeful?  Always.  Forgetting?

Never.

Ladies,Lock Up Your Daughters

So had the grief counseling group tonight.  Loving it and the wonderful little kids that I get to play with on Monday nights.  At the end of group, when the families have gone home, the facilitators sit and debrief, talk about the kids' group, the teen group and the adult group.  Apparently, tonight's topic in the adult group was sexuality.  One of the moms shared that her nine year old (one of our little ones) pointedly told her she needed a man in her life.  Shockwaves!  According to their facilitator, the conversation then went to the fear among the moms that their daughters would be seeking father figures in their lives, that these girls would grow up to seek love in the arms of men old enough to be their fathers.

Oh the disdain from the facilitators - why that could never happen!!

Being that I am new to the group and new to this group of people, I had to tie my tongue in a knot and sit on it.

Yeah, mothers, you may want to lock up your daughters.

Yes, we're doing a wonderful service to these families and yes we are giving these families a place to heal and work through their grief.  But the fact remains that there is loss and when you lose something the natural inclination is to replace it.  As I have posted previously, I learned decades later that my little six year old self, when told of my father's death, immediately asked my mother if we could get another one.  I could tell them now that the natural desire is to return to some semblance of normalcy and that means fill the empty spot at the table.  And that there's always going to be that possibility that when the girl grows up she will yearn for that father figure whether in a man's age or demeanor.

Me?  My first three relationships were all men at least 21 years my senior.  Those guys had a hell of a midlife crisis! And these were not flashes in the proverbial pan.  The first relationship lasted over a year, the second lasted two years.  The third was a big misstep and was short.

And still after all these years I love a manly type man; I gravitate to the big, tall man who, I guess, represents to me that authoritative figure that has always been lacking in my life; the whole strength and protector thing. Men were at a premium in my immediate family.  I had no uncles, no grandfathers, no brothers - no men close to me except for my one cousin on my mother's side, my cousin Nelson who is 18 years my senior.  But he had a family - and issues - of his own.  And funny thing is the whole big, strong daddy type is not even representative of my own father.  My father was a little slip of a guy, only 5'8" and very slight.  Weird.

So yeah ladies there may be some daddy issues for your girls.  But hey, there are worse things in life.  And they may even find one to love them.

A Swing...And a Miss

Well, LB's month long romance is kaput.  She and J had 'the talk' last evening.  Someone who started out with potential of perhaps being 'the one' is, alas, now one of the numerous.

He's not ready for a relationship.

She and I 'talked' by text this morning.  She isn't devastated, thank God.  Just a bit flummoxed.  A little  bit WTF?  'What's a girl gotta do?' was her exact question to me.

She met J at a party of a mutual friend.  At ten years her senior he was a distinct departure from the guys she usually is interested in...he was a man.  No metro-sexual like the one before him, but a good, old-fashioned manly man.  A southern boy with a sheepish grin and wonderful manners.  Six foot five, a former Marine.  And a fellow actor.  LB usually does not fellow date actors.

She found talking with him easy and he, her.  And other things came easily too, apparently (there's that nosey mom asking pointed questions).  They were still in the getting to know you stage I guess when he pulled back.

Weeks prior the friend at whose party they met, talked with LB about J.  She had nothing but good things to say about him, stuff that LB had already learned:  he was genuine, he had a good heart, he was very down to earth.

But he had a sadness about him...

The friend went on to say, and made it clear that the info she was about to share was not being done so in a gossipy manner but rather just to give LB a little insight as to J, that J had had some tragedy in his life three or four years prior.  His father had taken his own life.  And his grandfather years before that had also been a suicide.  Of course, J never knew that LB knew but it did give LB a point of reference.

I don't know...I'm certainly NOT the one to give romantic advice, least of all to my daughter.  But my heart goes out to her.  And to him.  Been there...many times.  It sure ain't like it is in movies or Broadway musicals.  No 'You lika me and I lika you and we lika both the same"  Not quite.  It's a wonder anyone gets together!

Still and all, it just seems like for so many people falling in love - and falling in love and committing - just happens so effortlessly.  I think those people must come from stable families.  Seriously.  Mom and Dad have a long marriage - have provided a good role model - and the kids follow suit.  I know...too simplistic.

I guess it's truly just a crap shoot.

Speaking from my own experience of having a dysfunctional childhood, I told LB that J may not feel 'whole', may not feel like he can put himself out there.  He may not even know what he wants but may feel that he can't 'offer' anything.  I had been told that...a long time ago by someone I absolutely adored...that he didn't 'have anything to offer' me.  In our case, he was much older than me and did not make much money, which to a guy flies in the face of the whole 'protector/provider' thing.  To this way of thinking I say "Shouldn't I be the judge of that?  Shouldn't I have a say in if I think you have anything to offer?"  Ugh.

Well like I said, it's a wonder any of us get together.  Most of the time we blame it on chemistry.  Oh I remember casting off many a good prospect because I felt we didn't have chemistry.  I pissed off a couple of pretty good guys.  And broke some hearts too, I'm sad to say.  One particularly sweet guy told me "You broke my balls _____"  Yikes, sorry.  Yeah he may have been my one to get away.  I saw him several years ago at a reunion and he still was just as sweet and genuine.  And he was very interested to talking to me and finding out about my life.  He married the girl he dated right after me and they have a very nice life in Philadelphia.

I had to remind LB too that she has been the dumper on more than one occasion.  I remember more than one sad eyed boy standing on our front step getting shot down.  Oh and her first boyfriend that cried when they broke up.  So please LB, don't tell me no one is ever interested in you, never interested in being committed.

Yeah too many times I think we all jump ship before the relationship has had a chance to show it's true potential.  Too many I'm afraids or I'm not good enough or I've been there and done.  Whatever.  

So after all was said and done, I told LB just to chalk it up to experience, basically a good experience and maybe he'll be back.  Maybe he'll think of her sometime and they both can gently nudge each other toward a better understanding of one another.  If it's meant to be...

VERY Random Facts about ME

Twenty-five uniquely random items about me.

• I've been told (by a male friend no less) that I'm comfortable in my own skin - which I value as a compliment.  I've never been an every hair in place kind of girl and I'm usually a quick to the ready person - not a lot of fuss here.  I guess there's not a lot of pretense with me and I like that in other people as well.  Come as you are.  I have been known to go to the gas station and the grocery store in my pajamas (with a coat thrown over, of course) much to the dismay of my children.

• I absolutely adore the season of FALL and I prefer cold weather over hot.  And I love and miss snow.

• I'm very resourceful.  Also a little OCD - I once returned a half gallon of butter pecan ice cream because there were NO pecans in it (I dumped it in a big bowl and stabbed it through with a big spoon - no pecans).  I got some strange looks on that one (from the Winn Dixie folks AND my kids).

• I'm extremely adaptable to my surroundings.  I love to travel but then I love my time at home too.

• Jobs I have held:  theater performer, au pair counselor, sales rep, manager for online retail store, paralegal, medical transcriber, personal assistant, licensed state childcare provider, government employee (HUD); retail sales.  Jack of all trades - master of none.

• I am sentimental.  I keep mementos - ticket stubs, cards, letters, matchbooks - and hold them, and the people or places from whence they came, dear to me.

• I was a weird kid. As a teenager, when most my age were totally caught up in popular singers and actors, I was firmly ensconced in all things nostalgic - old movies, old TV shows, old music (know many 16 year olds who listen to Al Jolson?)  I even because a pen pal of sorts with octogenarian George Burns.

• Though I haven't tried in a long time, I used to be able to put my entire fist in my mouth. Don't quite know how I came to the realization that I had this talent but it made for some very lively conversation back in the day.

• I'm not much of a reader. As a matter of fact, I really prefer not reading fiction. Maybe its because I always have a dialog/script/novel or two of my own running through my head on any given day and mine definitely is more interesting than any fiction I can read. I do LOVE non-fiction and find biographies - a person's life - MUCH more interesting than something made up. If I do read fiction, I start at the end of the book and read backwards. Drives my kids nuts. But I guess I go to the end to see if the rest of the book is worth reading.

• I prefer to be barefoot...any time I can.

• I have Native American blood in me but I do not know which tribe.  Paternal grandmother's side and she passed away when myfather was nine so we don't know a whole lot about her side going back...working on that.

• I have not truly felt loved - adored - since my Grandmother died in 1987 and that's OK.

• The only true aspiration I have ever had was to be a mom. And it has been EVERYTHING I imagined it to be.

• If jumping to conclusions was an olympic sport, I would gold medal. I'm working on this.

• I feel I am quite intuitive and pride myself to be a pretty good judge of character. Having said that, I am emphatic about honesty. As I have told my kids, please just be honest and forthcoming with me. Even though it may hurt me or worry me - or even disappoint me - it will do all those things tenfold if I find out down the road that I have been lied to. LB not so much; LP comes clean immediately.

• I am a late bloomer and that's why, I guess, I feel I have a pretty youthful outlook on things. I tend to forget just how old I am. I have never rushed myself in life. Maybe this is because I essentially became a mini adult when my father died when I was six. I don't know. I played with Barbies til I was about 13; I didn't have my first kiss until I was 16 (yep, Sweet 16); I didn't lose my virginity until I was 23; I married at 28 and had my children at ages 32 and 36. I started, anew, at 55 and truly have high hopes for living a VERY rich life in the next third.

• I'm true blue. I take commitments, whether that be work, or friends, or love relationships, very seriously. I'm incredibly loyal...and patient...and faithful. For 27 years, I took my marriage vows to heart, took them very seriously - at times to my detriment.

• I rarely give up on things, dreams...people. And when I'm interested in someone or something, it's nearly obsession (not in a scary way, but in a focused way).  BUT having said this, when I'm done, I'm DONE. No going back.

• I have been told I can be blunt. I don't see this (of course, I don't).

• I consider myself an introvert though I am hardly a wallflower. I am an observer. I enjoy my own company (being an only child certainly cemented this behavior) but I love having lots of people around - especially at meals and on the holidays - the more the merrier.

• I am keenly interested in the lives, families and backgrounds of others. I find the fabric of our lives fascinating and I NEVER tire of learning about the journeys of others.

• I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE water. Always have. Beach, pool, bathtub. I can while away the hours on the beach and have absolutely nothing to show for it save for a totally untangled mind and a calm countenance.  Someday I WILL live at the beach.

• Though people may scoff, I find a lot of credence in the zodiac. I am through and through an Aquarian. The character snapshot on the following link is a fairly good assessment (though I do not totally agree with 'unemotional'): http://zodiac-signs-astrology.com/zodiac-signs/aquarius.htm

• I am blessed with many people I claim as friends but there are multiple levels of friendship with me and my TRUE friends, the ones who know my good, bad and my ugly, I can number on one hand. And they are GOLD to me.

• The best advice I give: be happy with yourself and by that I mean live an authentic life - yours alone. Pursue what fills your heart, your soul - everything else should fall in place. I have always told my kids, be happy with yourself first before you take on a commitment with another person; don't expect someone to make you happy - YOU make you happy first.