Oh to be 50!

February 6th. It seems like an ordinary day and for most people I am sure it is. It is one of my toughest days to get through every year. Brenda was born on this day 1967. I write about her every year on her day. Love does not diminish just because the one you loved has gone, it simply becomes something quieter, something different. The tears that are rolling down my cheeks right now are a mix of sadness and joy; sad for the things we will never do together and joy for the acceptance and love she always gave me. Just because you have siblings does not guarantee you will enjoy them but I was lucky. She was my kid sister, my friend, my confidant, my partner in crime, mine.

She would have been 50 years old today. I can’t help but wonder if her beautiful red hair would be a slight shade of pink from the subtle grey hair I am sure she would be trying not to take ownership of. Would her beautiful face be wrinkled from time? Things I will never need to know the answers for.

The girl I grew up with was shy, timid almost. I swear she was born with a broken heart. She did not know her worth. As the saying goes,”you only accept the love you think you deserve.” So yes, you guessed it; her taste in men was HORRIBLE! We were both so young living life trying to find a path to our own happiness. Why didn’t I see she was hurting? Why didn’t I know enough to help her get away from those bad influences? Now, I have the experience of life behind me to understand but not then.

I freely admit when I think about my kid sister I always see her through rose colored glasses. That is the love I have for her. She wasn’t perfect. I am the one who put her on a pedestal. I am the one who tried to fix her brokenness. I am the one who didn’t see her truths because I didn’t want to look. She did some pretty shitty things to her life. I know now she was drowning, fighting to stay above water. She didn’t like herself. She never learned to forgive herself for her own shortcomings. She was convinced she wasn’t good enough. She spent her life trying to run away from herself instead of working her way TOWARDS something better. Once upon a time I was crying to her about my own struggles over my weight, my beauty, my self worth. I told her I would give anything to be like her because I thought she had everything. She sat very quietly listening to me and when she had enough of my pity party she said,” outer beauty is a prison. No one cares what I think or if I have a brain. They just look at me and make assumptions about my intelligence. They assign me a value. Men chase me like a prize to be won. I wish I were more like you; you have everything.”

Her words broke my heart but they made me see for the first time. We all struggle. We all have pain. I never got to tell her how much I loved her for all the things she was to me. She taught me so much about the power we all have but keep hidden in ourselves. After she died I came to learn from other people in her life just how much I meant to her. She admired me. I was her older sister and she was proud of me. ME!?! I am a better person because of our struggles together. Whenever I feel like I can’t go another step I try to remember that our journey together is not over just interrupted.

I miss you, Breny.

Love You,

Trish

Staycation

Ahhh, my first vacation of the season and {{{SIGH}}} my first vacation of the season. I am a contradiction of terms. I am both excited and deeply depressed. Strange? not if you know me. I suck at relaxing. I have never been able to take a day off. You know what I mean;  sit around, watch bad TV, maybe take a shower, have a ton of unplans. An unplan is a happening with no set logical or pre-established guidelines. Think of it as going to a local store for something quick and different. You had no set plan so you just do the next best thing. A vacation filled with unplans makes my hubby happy. It drives me to distraction. I fight  with myself to be in my moment, to relax,  to do something I have been dying to do! I wait all year for this vacation. You would think I would plan my time off better, fill it with things I want to do, see, explore but I don’t. Mind you I talk a good game. There’s always  something whirring in the back recesses of my grey cells about the perfect adventure.

I like to take the first week of July off each summer because my birthday falls there. I want the luxury of not having to work on my birthday. It is the perfect time of year. The days are longer, hotter and filled with promise you just don’t get in winter. Every year I waste my week; I get plenty done (see the contradiction?). Housework , shopping, spring cleaning. I have all this free time on my hands and no idea how to use it.

)july birthdayI get to share my birthday with my Country. Every one I know loves the Fourth of JULY, the Nations’ Birthday. Hotels are packed, restaurants are packed, beaches are packed. Living on the East Coast in July brings bus loads of tourists to a neighborhood near you. Great, if you don’t mind spending your week off  waiting in long lines for things you hate to wait in line for, like the bathroom.

How easy it is to forget how wonderful something is when it becomes too familiar to you. I have lived on the East Coast my whole life. All the glitter is still there; it’s just harder for me to see. I find my joy in the majesty of the mountains which still takes my breath away. The sunrise over a quiet lake, awe inspiring. A walk in a town I have never been to before, exhilarating. I don’t do these things everyday, therefore; the glitter still sparkles, catching my eye, reminding me of how lucky I am.

My week is nearly over. I am well rested. I didn’t cry on my birthday. I enjoyed spending quiet time with my hubby. I still have time for an adventure. Our unplans worked wonderfully. I have decided I am okay. (I think !?!) I relaxed.  =  )

July

In just a few short days it will be my birthday. I am only telling you this because, in truth; I hate my birthday. It is void of everything but high expectations. Every year as my birthday month approaches I grow more and more antsy. I want the grandiose sparkly birthday gathering with cake and presents and stuffs I just don’t need. What I get is usually way more sedate and boring. Every year I promise myself that I won’t cry and every year I fail.

I know I am being foolish. I know it is a day on the calendar that is special only to me but I have always wanted it to be bigger than that. I suppose that is the little girl in me that never got to have a birthday party(everyone I knew was on summer holiday). I suffer from Peter Pan syndrome. I don’t want to be a growed up. I am a Lost Girl. I never liked that Pan’s club was boys only. I mean really if it hadn’t been for Tink and Wendy what would have happened to those lost boys?

I guess I hate my birthday because it means I get older. Age is a perception thing. When you are young you wish to be older and when you are older you wish to be younger. An AGE old battle no one wins. I can’t stop time or change the past( which I despise) the only way is forward, which we call the present, that sometimes is difficult for me to find the gift in.

Here goes:

Dear Birthday,

This year I would like to pause and thank you for being part of my life. I forgive you for not being what I needed in the past. Birthdays remind me of how far I have come. They remind me of how much further I can go. With you I have grown into an adult that I am proud to call me. Because of you I have been given immeasurable amounts of love and guidance and support. My friends and family have always been there to rejoice in the anniversary of my coming into being. I am sorry for taking you for granted. Having said that though I must also admit I am not enjoying the grey hair you keep giving me, enough already. Let’s have some fun this year. What do you say we keep our expectations low? our spirits high and surround ourselves with relaxation? Also, a spa day would be nice but we can talk later, Okay?

Love,

Trish

Would She Know Me?

My Birthday wish can never come true. Every year I wish for you.

I am a little less than I used to be around the middle. My hair tinged with strips of silver and grey. I smile but it’s mostly for show. My eyes don’t sparkle from glee. I haven’t really been me.  Would she know me? It’s hard to say. I have gotten older yet she has remained the same.

Would she know me? I miss her smile and that wicked laugh. I miss her honesty and her messed up past.  I dream of her often, wonder why she had to go. Would she have left if she knew I needed her so?  Today is my birthday and I am more than a little blue. I miss my kid sister but there is not a thing I can do. Love is a magical thing. That makes you feel light as a feather. You can kick the world’s ass as long as you stick together.

Would she know me?  My heart could find her in one beat. I always knew when she was in trouble and needed me. I knew even on that day but I ignored that gnawing in my soul. I was trying to be in my life. She needed me that day. I could hear it in her voice when she called but I chose my life. There’s always tomorrow, right?

Life slapped me. It hit me hard. There are no tomorrows for us. I will never be the same. I am in my life but there are days like today when I feel more dead than alive. Love is magical but it can also be quite cruel. When it leaves you it leaves you. No words to say it is just gone like a shitty rainy day.

Would she know me? I think she might after all I got to be her big sister so I MUST have done something right.

Twenty Weeks, Five Days

I am obsessed with my birthday. I always have been, I probably always will be.  Somewhere in the course of my life, I have convinced myself that if I have a problem; I can (if I try hard enough and believe in magic) fix whatever ails me by my birthday. For the record, it has never worked. Why I keep traveling down the same road looking for Trish Nirvana is beyond me. (Smacks self in head). There is something to be said though for the optimism that I feel whenever I make this declaration of achieving greatness by my birthday.

In the depths of my soul I believe in myself. It loses strength somewhere on its way to the top. I am never able to hold onto that self-belief very long. Fear is not what keeps success in myself from fruition. It is my unwillingness to accept that as a human being I have value, a worthiness that is mine and mine alone simply because I am alive. I don’t know why I am so hard on myself. I am the one who keeps my dreams at bay. I am the one who gives up on herself. I am the one who cradles my feelings. I am the one who dodges affection. I am the one who avoids the truth.

Dorothy held onto a belief (not to mention she had no other choices) if she got herself to the Emerald City the Wizard would help solve her problems and get her back home.  With her goofy sidekicks and a few miss-steps she learned to rely on herself, ok except for the part where the flying monkeys carry her ass off. She never needed the Wizard to rescue her, she needed herself.  Perhaps the Yellow Brick Road is our life path. We place the bricks each day. Where it leads to is up to us.

I started my brickway many times and in various directions. The time has come for paths to connect and roads to end. I have been lost for far too long. It is time to take up my journey once again, traveling my road one brick at a time. I owe it to myself. I am worthy. I have goofy sidekicks, who I love more than I care to admit. I am stronger with them by my side. I know I have what it takes to see this journey through to the next journey.

Flying monkeys beware. I am ready for your bad asses.

Twenty weeks and five days from now I will still be Trish. It will be my birthday. My life will not magically fall into place on this day but I remain optimistic.  = )

The Best Gift That I Ever Got…

ImageYou were the best gift I ever got = )

Ten years ago today you were alive. I like to believe that you were happy but I have my doubts. It has been ten years since we last laughed, hugged, or shared a moment. YOU meant everything wonderful to me. You were my kid sister. Certain days are harder to live through, like today. Birthdays are supposed to be about celebration. You had the best laugh and the biggest heart. You hugged with your whole being. You hugged with a love I miss.

I saw it as my job to always have your back. You were MY kid sister, right? I hated to see you cry over an injustice or when someone broke your heart. You were the best gift I ever got. Even as kids I thought Mom and Dad had made you just for me. Sisters can be the greatest of blessings. Someone who knows all about you but loves you anyway. Only you could push my limits. You took NONE of my crap. You never gave into my selfish ways. You made me tow my line. I was the older sister but you taught me so much about life. I have so much to thank you for. You helped to shape the person I am. I can’t look at a sunny day and not think of you. You were my best friend.