Author: kidtrish

I am a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an Enigma. Good Luck ;)

skip that rock

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Thanksgiving is less than one week away. I am struggling with reasons to be thankful. Big holidays are supposed to be filled with relatives and food and stress and love. Intangible things you can’t quite put a finger on, like the smell of that favorite holiday stuffing that makes you miss your Mom. Or the grin that Cool Whip brings to your face just by thinking about it. Or the memory of parades of days gone by like the Macy’s floats, big and grand.

I know that my Dad is safe. I know somewhere in my heart he is better off being looked after; I feel deserted. I have been left all alone. Not by him but by circumstance.  Life is what happens when you make other plans. Thanksgiving is a time for family. Once upon at time I had that. I MISS them. I MISS the hot mess that made them MY family. I hate Thanksgiving; it makes me sad. Thanksgiving should be about the fullness of your life not the emptiness.

I am grateful to still have my Pops in my life. I am thankful I have a hubby who stands by me no matter how bad the storms get. I am humbled to be honored with the Best best friend anybody could ever hope for. I am thankful for all the great memories I can still look back on and bask in the glow of that love. I have so much yet I struggle. I yearn for the simple things that were once part of my everyday life.

Cherish the moments in your life. All of them. Holidays often have moments that hurt. Someone you love may not be able to handle all of the false hopes a holiday tends to pin on one’s soul. I know I used to put too much emphasis on the perfect. I wanted the perfect family, the most perfect meal in the most peaceful, loving, giving atmosphere. I guess nobody else got the memo.

In my family if we made it to the end of the meal in one piece without any yelling or crying it WAS the perfect day. Too bad none of us realized it then. We had some moments. Stuffing on the floor. Gravy boats smashed. Pies eaten by Tuesday. Mom who only ever copped to,” It was just a taste. I swear!” Only thing is she tasted ’til it was nearly gone as if the single pie section she left was evermore than a taste for the rest of us.  Stress of being perfect always made her nuts.

I stopped trying to have perfect holidays after my sister died. Didn’t seem to be any point to that stuff and nonsense. I want to enjoy my life. As messy as my life is sometimes at least I can say I try to live in the moments. Ruined holidays, there were many, taught me to see the humor in everyday challenges. It built a strength in me that helps me to see a difficult time through to its finish, whatever it may be.

Life is like a ripple in the water caused by a rock you just skipped across the surface. Be that rock. Test the water, be alive in your life. Skip along the surface of the water. Be awestruck by the beauty of it. See the ripples you create.  I want my ride to continue on so I can see what adventure is next. Even as I glide I am losing momentum, soon I  will break below the surface and sink to the bottom. My glorious ride will be over. I am not ready to be added to the other rocks at the bottom, left in a heap to be forgotten. Looks like I will just have to get a new rock.

Enjoy the people in your life while they are in your life. I am thankful for you = )

 

 

 

Would You Like me If You Knew?

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I am shy. I am timid. I am boring. I am depressed. I am none of the things people believe to be true about me. The image I have of myself does not match the face I see staring back at me in the bathroom mirror. Who is this fat, old lady with the wicked chin? In my mind’s eye I am young with hair of gold. I am beautiful in a way that makes people’s heads turn. I am happy. Life waits for me, the Earth fills my world with sunshine and Hope is a girl’s name.

The View From the Cliff

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I find myself on the edge of a cliff uncertain if I can maintain my balance. I teeter on the edge between believe and unbelievable. I am not ready to give up. I am not afraid of heights. I am leery of them. My head begins to pound and for a second I think I will lose my footing. I won’t. I always catch myself. I wonder what will happen that one day when I don’t catch me. Will I plummet over the edge into an abyss never to reappear? I struggle everyday with a pain that pierces me to my core. Some days it hurts just to draw breath; until I realize I am not breathing. I am holding in my tears or my anger or my fear.

I am tired of feeling this way. There is a difference between living and being alive. Somewhere in my life I stopped living. I go through the motions of living but I don’t really care if I am. I know this is dangerous territory to be in. I need, I need, I need to stop. I foolishly lost what I once had from fear. I want to change things but I am afraid. I am afraid to succeed.

Am I worth it? everyday I disappoint myself. I talk myself out of getting off my asscake and working on the me I need. Why is that? I have no real answer except fear. The crap a person is willing to live with instead of facing the unknown. I infuriate myself. I am at the crossroads once again. If I can just believe in myself I got this. I can handle what is next. If I just believe. Where’s Tinkerbell when a girl really needs her?

That First Hoodie Day

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I love when the summer heat starts to fade like the setting sun of Autumn. The first time you awaken to a slight chill in the air. The first inhale of crisp cool air. Great for the lungs, even better for the soul. Today was HOODIE DAY. A day I look forward to all summer. I got up a little later than I usually do. I knew it was going to be on the cool side so I decided not to shave the sticks. Yeah! for picky legs season. Yeah! for sweatshirts and hot cocoa. Yeah! for warm snuggly blankeys. Yeah! for my collection of hoodies that sat all summer patiently waiting for me to need them again. Autumn makes me so happy. Goth chick that I am, Halloween is my all time favorite holiday. I am now in fashion even if it is for the briefest of moments. I am squeeing with glee.

We now return you to our regularly scheduled programming(insert elevator music here)

The day after Hoodie Day I am ready for Spring = ) I find that as I get older I dislike Winter a little more every year. Once upon a time I liked to believe I was hip now I find myself worrying I will slip on the ice and break a hip. When did I “get old”?

Happy Hoodie Day !! Save some cocoa for me and don’t forget the mini marshmallows ; )

One of Those Days

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It has been one of those days. Lately everyday has been one of those days. I don’t know how to get off the merry-go-round. Have you ever put something off, you know, didn’t do something or fix something simply because you held onto the silliest belief that the problem would just go away? Funny how life doesn’t work the way we want it to. My Dad will never be younger or healthier or more mindful. His yellow brick road has less turns left to it. His journey more complete than just begun. Once upon a time not so long ago he was a giant amongst men. He had a wife and children, a job that kept us all cared for. He loved to laugh and sing. In my eyes he could anything. As I sit across from him at the eye doctor I see him for the first time in a long time.

He has aged. He is still strong but is now shrunken in his frame. His eyesight betrays him and his hearing is off. His ears seem large to me but I am sure it is that silly straw cowboy hat he insists on wearing. His hands which once held me are now twisted from years of over use and arthritis. He asks me often why they ache. Maybe they are a reflection of the pain he has had in his life. I try not to think about my Dad someday being to old to be. I try to be in the moment whenever we are together. Make a new memory, forgive an old disagreement. I tell him often how much I love him. It is the one thing I fear he will forget. It would break me.

The only gift we have is TODAY. Live it, enjoy it, savor it, do something with it. Just don’t throw it away.

It Always Comes Back to This…Singing

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I can always tell when I have anger issues that go unresolved.
The more of my anger I hold in the wider I become. I am not really overweight. I am stuffed with unhealthy anger. As I slide the shower door open a wave of deja vu sweeps over me. I imagine if only for the briefest of moments the scene before me will be as if I am Dorothy alighting from her house, planted into a world of color and beauty and uniqueness where all my dreams wait for me, along the brick road wanting to be discovered and fulfilled; but,it is just my bathroom no magic, no hope, no dreams. In my mind I can see when my view of myself changed. Where in the grand scheme I belonged. Where I changed and become small and scared. I withdrew into a safe place. This place has grown tight and stale. I need to let go of my childish fears and OZ and be the adult I know is there.

In the back of my mind it is 1976. I am 12, the magic of life waiting to unfold.
My mother gave me her stereo for my birthday. She must have loved me very much. She knew I loved to sing. She knew I had it in my heart to become the next Streisand. She loved my voice. I think it was her way of giving me her undying support. My father worked a long time to buy her that stereo. It was an Emerson. You could actually lock the turntable by lifting it into the cabinet between its two side mounted speakers.

I loved that thing. I wore it out. Blew the amplifier, wore the turntable down so it wouldn’t turn any more. I was heartbroken. With that stereo I taught myself how to breathe, to let the notes float out of my soul and over the space in front of me. Singing has always made me feel beautiful. A beauty no one can take or borrow or change. Music makes me feel unbroken.

I have never had a formal lesson. I hear the melody in my mind and I know if it is in the right key. I know if it is my range, if I have enough vocal reserve to hit the high notes. I fly when I sing soaring to heights no one but I can reach. My dreams waiting for me not to be afraid.

Who Is This Man?

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I haven’t written a post in quite some time. I told myself I need some time off to regroup and enjoy my summer. As many of you know I had to place my Pops into a nursing home. Never an easy decision to make. The paperwork long,tedious and intrusive. I have always resisted placing my Pops because I didn’t want to lose him to the system. I have already lost more than I have ever imagined I would. My kid sister and my mother passed away. I have an older sister that I am not close to (my choice). I have distanced myself from her children as well. I can not live with their baggage and try to fix my baggage as well. Growing up in a dysfunctional family environment with no set coping skills will do that for you. My family’s way of getting through tough things together usually involved more yelling than conversation and lots of name calling and blame throwing. Counter productive to say the least. Not a real esteem builder either. I had to learn to accept and like myself on my terms.

I took the summer off from writing so I could find a way to set myself free from feeling guilty about what happened to Pops and I. I have not been handling our new living arrangement well at all. There are things about it I really like. I no longer have to meal plan for him or assist him in his bath. I get to eat supper with hubby every night and mostly I don’t have to worry Pops might roll away from his apartment for places unknown.

Do you have any idea how hard it has been for me to let go? Who is this man,that can’t remember my mother’s name? or that my kid sister had red hair? or that they both died too young and tragically? For my Pops it is a blessing but for me it is a curse. It only increases my sadness not dispels it. Who is this man? Dementia has changed everything about him I knew. This man is my Pops. I love him. I cry for the people he no longer remembers to miss. I cry for all that we have lost. stuff 005I cry because even though I see him whenever I can I MISS the man he used to be.

And Just Like That…

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Dr Gusarit was goodbye. This month after nearly twenty years with the same dentist we are saying goodbye. One day last week after I got home from work your letter was sitting in my mailbox patiently waiting for me to view your goodbye. I will miss your gentle manner and your easy smile. I always looked forward to seeing you when I went in for my bi- annual check ups. You laughed at my jokes. You listened. You took excellent care of my teeth and dare I say it, me.

Thank you for being a great dentist and a wonderful man. I hope you find sunshine in the small things of everyday. I will miss you.

Tide Pool

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I love going to the ocean. It makes me happy. Walking along the waves as they crash into the beach being careful not to wander in too deep. My feet and lower legs assaulted by the incoming tide.feet If I hurry I can explore the tide pool before it is reclaimed by the ocean. Life can be like a tide pool full of interesting little tid bits and life moments that go unseen in the busy hustle and bustle of the everyday clamor. tide pool

The quietness of a beautiful sunny day does more to lighten my soul than any medicine I know of. Go find a beach, take a walk, be thankful for all that you have.

Sleeping Beauty?

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I am asleep but fitfully. I am running away from myself in this dream. I keep running into you. What are you trying to tell me? I roll around under my covers, semi awake mumbling to myself. I sit up; glance over at the clock, its blaring light tells me it is 3:02 in the morning. I step out of bed my mind in a half fog. I maneuver my way to the bathroom careful not to trip over my cat. I know she is lurking there somewhere in the dark. As I sit on my throne she pads in, rubs her body against my legs, her purr loud and reassuring. I reach my hand down, she glides her soft warm cheek across my fingertips. I give her a quick scratch under her chin. I hear her pad away into the kitchen. She will grab a few quick bites from her supper dish, knowing that all is well. She can let her guard down even if it just for a few minutes. I try not to focus my thinking at 3:02 in the morning while I am peeing. I DO NOT want to be awake at this hour. I want to alight on the wings of Sleep and let her take me through the night peacefully, gaining what rest has escaped me all week.

Everyone experiences a heavy day now and then. A day filled with anger or disappointment or uncertainty. I find whenever I am in the midst of a heavy day or an argument with myself about a situation I dream vivid solution dreams. My way of trying to achieve peace with myself. Sometimes it works. I wake up feeling better about life in general. Sometimes it doesn’t work. I awake at an unholy hour of the night more distressed than when I went to sleep. There is a place in my soul (the Palace of Grudge) where I harbor all of my misgivings, my loathing, my greed. Occasionally this spot gets irritated by the greater parts of my soul, you know what I am talking about; THE YOU, the better version of yourself. The one that is who you really are. Kind, gentle, loving. This part of my soul will only put up with me being an ass for so long then all hell breaks out. It is then in the wee hours of the morning when I should be sleeping my best that she strikes.

Conscience is a good being. She tries gently to remind me of the path I should be on whenever I cross over to the path of destruction. She stays glued to my side throwing out her guiding ways. I am just stubborn. I often choose the tougher path from which to learn my life lessons. I am lucky that Conscience is well meaning and kind, otherwise I would be screwed. She is always there. She always knows what to do in a tough situation. She doesn’t like to be ignored. She is overjoyed and giddy when she wins the day.

Lately, Conscience has been on my ass about an issue I have ignored for a long time. The real problem is there is no easy solution to the problem as it lies. Therefore I sometimes lose sleep while my opposing viewpoints fight for the win. I could be the “better” me and try to have a chat with the source of my angst. I could row the boat closer to the dock, but just like the gingerbread man on the wolf’s back I am leery about trusting. I think I am smarter than that wolf. Sometimes the best way not to get bitten is to stay away from the mouth. Poor Gingy, could have lived and ran another day if he had just chosen a different path.

I am sorry Conscience but this time I choose not to follow your pleading ways. Stay ever vigilant = ) I appreciate all that you have helped me to accomplish. I am sure I will be hearing from you again; soon.

Love,
Beauty

To live is to learn
To live is to learn
(who likes sleeping)