That Unknown Part of Me I Can’t Let Go

You were like a Spring rain. Intense with high potential for damage. Just like a storm you left someone else to do the clean up, me. In your wildest dreams I bet you never imagined one little girl could leave behind such devastation. Hearts were broken, lives ruined; and yet the sun came out. The sun always shines after a storm. Even the heavens want the world to know there is light after darkness.

You taught me to be brave. You forced me to embrace my life. You have brought me places I wouldn’t go myself, you made me participate in my own life. All it took was you dying. So very sad , so very true. Why did you self destruct? Why didn’t you try harder to leave him? why didn’t you value yourself like I valued you? why didn’t you believe in the wonder that was you?

I have lost my way without you. I like to pretend I am above my feelings. I am drowning in my own pool of denial. The more I try to lie to myself about how I am doing the deeper the pool becomes. My tiny craft is taking on water. I am unable to bail the water fast enough. I am circling the drain wondering where all my time has gone off to adventure without me.

I am becoming an old lady without you. I used to wonder what that unknown part of me was. I finally figured it out. It’s the shards of my broken heart. Just when I think I am in a good space, I feel their pain as they push against my soul. Your laugh I hear only in dreams. Your smile a faded memory that mocks me from photographs. I miss the sound of your voice. I am afraid if I let you go, I will lose what little I have left of you.

Brave?

I love my Pops. Everyone who knows me knows how much I care about this man. People often say to me how strong I am or brave or what courage it takes to face his illness. I never know quite know how to respond to that. I know if the tables were turned and I was the one who was ill my Dad would be there. It is the character you build with the help of your parents that makes you the person you become. My parents had their faults, who doesn’t? They also tried very hard to instill certain values in us girls. Work hard, love with an open heart, be kind to people, listen, be understanding. Give of yourself not because it is expected of you but because want to share who you are with others. Nice counts.

My Dad never graduated high school. He was from an era in time when quitting school to seek a job to help your family was encouraged. I am sure my grandparents would have loved it if all of their children had stayed in school and jumped for their share of the American dream but dreams don’t put food on your table. My Dad has always had a strong sense of taking care of one’s own family. Do what needs to be done so they are provided for. He was a great provider. I can remember him having two part time jobs to help round out his full time job just to make ends meet. My mother was really unable to hold down a job for any significant amount of time. Her mental illness always got in her way. Crippling her ability to cope with every day duties of keeping the house and kids in line. Often my Dad had to be both parents.

My Dad never gave up on my mother and loved her devotedly until the day she died. Funny, he doesn’t remember her now. Sad for me; blessing for him? Who am I to say? I only know in my heart I am glad my mother did not live to see my Pops robbed of his memory. She nearly lost her mind after my sister passed away. I sometimes think that’s why her health declined so fast after Breny died ; she was broken. Both of my parents were clingy after her passing. My phone would ring off the hook. They would often call me to make sure I was Okay. Annoying then, but now I realize how hurt they were by her passing and how afraid they were for me and my other sister. Loss was not easy for either of them.

I deal with my Dad’s loss everyday. He is still here, yet he is not.  As the days go by I know my time being with him, laughing, living, crying and just being his kid are on the decline. He will not live forever despite my best efforts. I have become the parent to my parent. My parents taught me what to do. There is no bravery involved. Only love…and love can do anything. Love the people in your life while they are still here to share it. Dad/Trish

One of Those Days

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.

Sleeping Beauty?

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)

Taking A Chance

This post is about taking chances just in case you didn’t get that from the title. = ) I am not a big chance taker, not brave enough. Too many bad left turns in my youth or could be it’s just a solid lack of faith in myself. Still once in awhile something goes on in the nooks and crannies of my mind and I feel inspired.  It might also mean Spring is coming and like a dormant flower I feel ready to stretch my leaves and give my blooms a shake. Whatever the reason I am feeling spry. I am going to give this WWs bullshit one more swing of the stick. Tomorrow is my 7th anniversary.  I have not made it to goal NIRVANA. I want to get there.

Life keeps getting in my way and in my head. Being a WW member has changed how I look at myself, at food, at the people I surround myself with and not always for the better. I feel that if I am to make it to my Promised Land I need to take responsibility for my actions. All of them. My struggle with food is not about the food. My struggle is really about how I am feeling at any given moment about who I am versus who I think I should be. My struggle is self- ACCEPTANCE.  I know this to the depths of my soul. I want to leave it all behind me but time and time again I am drawn back into the circle of devastation. I eat because I am angry. I am angry because I eat. Self-perpetuating circle of shame.

The worse thing anyone can ever to do another person is to teach them they have no value. Strip away a persons belief in self and watch as their lives spiral out of control. I have been spinning for a long time. Food is my drug of choice. I hate that I can not eat unless there is an emotion attached to it. In fact I never eat because I am hungry. I eat through disappointment, I eat to hide embarrassment, I eat in social situations to cover my anxiety. I eat to control my anger. Every time my anger gets the upper hand I lose control over how I eat, why I eat, when I eat.

Enough already. Nobody digs a Sally Downer. This time I take a chance on me

…could be , who knows?

there’s something due any day I will know right away soon as it shows…

I got a feeling there’s a miracle due gonna come true coming to me…