Library night

It might be library night…

I never really could keep up with it. Is it the same night, every week, or more a circumstance of convenience?

Yeah, it definitely could be library night…

The thought comforts me as my hand parts my hair 5 times before my head comes to rest in my palm, against the car window.

We probably wouldn’t be talking now, anyway…

I do so miss the talking.

And not even the talking, really, but all the little nuances built into talking;

the anticipation of talking,

that first, long, drawn-out “Heeeyy”, that rides out to meet me on the rush of a deep sigh,

oft-used phrases,

words that feel like you….

“Can I ask you a question?”

The smile that never ends, and the laughter.

Good laughter, long laughter, unadulterated, unexpected, and healing laughter.

I miss the joy in laughter.

For the first time in my life, I would rather talk than write. Writing, is after all, all about me. The places I can go are restricted by the confines of my mind, by my experience, by my hopes, and my dreams.

I miss the voice that gently took me places I had never thought to go, but, even more, I miss the wide-eyed enthusiasm as whole new worlds opened up to you through the doorways in my words.

Today…

Today, for the first time in weeks, I woke up to….nothing.
I changed my routine,
and spent less time staring at my computer monitor.

Today, I no longer felt the need to keep my phone in my hand, but rather, allowed it to rest, recklessly, atop a cabinet in my office.
I changed my ringtones.
I viewed my empty inbox with relief,
and realized I had gone 72 hours without hearing his voice…
Today, I brought my phone charger home and plugged it back in next to my bed. My phone has held a charge, all day, for the first time in months…

Today, thoughts of work were uncluttered.
I set priorities in hopes of moving on to goals.
I had a daydream…about cleaning out a closet…
I participated in a political discussion in which, for the first time in weeks, my entire mind was engaged,
and, I read several pages of “Atlas Shrugged” while eating lunch.

Several times today, I remembered an anecdote or experience shared by a mutual friend and thrilled with the anticipation of sharing, until I remembered…
I stopped and thought, “Oh, I can’t wait to tell him…” before realizing my best friend had stopped listening…
Today, I heard his name spoken time and time again, and, each time, it hurt a little less…

Today, I realized, with certainty, that my conviction to refuse to live my life according to a set of man-made rules is right…for me…

Today the landscape seems brighter…

Just Another Reason To Party

I’m not a person who feels tied into age. Age, to me, is a number, and really nothing more. When asked my age, I often have to stop and think. I am fortunate, (I guess), to have friends and family who, apparently keep up with these things…

Every year, as my birthday approaches I encourage everyone to see things as I do. “It’s just another day!”, “I really don’t need presents.”, “I don’t eat birthday cake.” Last year, on September 2nd, I announced I was done having birthdays. I mean, what’s so special about them? Everybody has one! They are like belly-buttons…

This year, as the day approached, my daughter called, wondering how I was celebrating Labor Day. I really hadn’t thought about it. She wondered if she, her friend, and her friend’s new, and completely darling daughter could visit. A son called. He was up for a cook-out. Another son called, also looking for free food…So, the plan was set. Labor Day cookout at my house!

A couple of days ago, I heard, again, from my daughter, who, in her best little girl voice, wondered, hypothetically mind you, if I WAS going to eat birthday cake, not that I would, what kind of cake I would like. I thought for several seconds before telling her, and with that I made a decision. I was having a birthday party. Did I say party? Make that a birthday blowout!
And here’s the reason we have birthdays…

I slept in this morning, just because I could. I checked on Dad who is stubbornly riding the storm out in Destin. And the calls started, interspersed with texts from people, some from whom I rarely hear, who appreciate my being here. As I took the calls, I opened my mailbox to an assortment of good wishes. Sweet!

Around 1:00, my grill master arrived with a variety of meats and mysterious seasonings, and set about preparing to cook out. As the guests arrived, they were greeted by loud music, and louder laughter. Red wine made everyone a better dancer as children ran between our legs, glorifying in the luxury of a game of chase inside the house!

The food was great, the company wonderful, and everyone left feeling just a little better for having shared my day.

And, as for me? I was queen for a day! Cared for, pampered, and fawned over by family and friends. I ate food I rarely allow myself, I drank good wine, I danced to my favorite music, I watched my children enter the house as sophisticated adults and revert back into playmates in the way only siblings can, and I laughed.

As the party ended, and guests began to filter out, my daughter brought the baby to me. She is gorgeous, with Asian features, and soft, marshmallowy limbs. She played with my jewelry, babbled sweetly, and threw her toys to the floor in front of us in sweet anticipation of a ride down to pick them up.

Pudgy hands flayed desperately in an attempt to rub her sleepy eyes as she nestled into my side, and we napped…

Friends, it just doesn’t get any better than this…

Rollercoaster of Love

Spent the better part of this morning carrying a large rock, dead center, in the middle of my chest…

And, then the questions began…

“What are you thinking about?”

“Are you having a good day?”

The phone rings, and I grope, desperately into and around the seat behind me to get it before it stops. And I do. And it’s not him…

And the reassurances…

“I love you, Mom…”

And the “click” on an empty email icon…

And the caring…

“You can’t drive around like that. Let me take the car in for you. We’ll settle up later…”

And…silence.

And laughter at shared experiences, and the wonder of physical prowess, and sweet rest, much needed…

A day that began in tears, and ended in gratitude.

And, I will ride again, tomorrow…</div

Almost…

The sadness;

of dreams I never knew I had, lying unrealized…

of plans, and hopes, and wants, and desires, unrequited…

of letting go, with love…

of looking back, without remorse…

of moving forward, without…

of realizing that another soul, a mirror to mine, exists in allegiance to another, less deserving…

of releasing the person I could have been, and almost was…almost.

Ahhh…youth

I can remember when I was much younger, and dating…

you know, late teens, early twenties,

before every date featured an obligatory grope session…

There was a particular kind of sweetness about the morning after.

As I begin the reluctant climb into consciousness…

freeze-frame shots of the day before play across my brain as I lay with my eyes closed, unaware that my arms have wrapped around my pillow in an effort to bring it in just a little closer.

A smile begins to play across my lips as memories warm me from the outside in.

And, as I finally turn in surrender to the burgeoning day, the smile moves into my opening eyes,

and I hug the pillow even tighter as, stretching, my limbs tingle with the anticipation of things to come…

Giving Thanks

Have I ever told you that I thank God for you, everyday?

Have I ever told you that all through my day

as snippets of conversation dance across my brain,

and the sound of your laughter echoes from a warm place,

I embrace the feeling and raise it up in thanks.

And, sometimes, sometimes if I’m really present

and I hold that feeling up really high,

I am sure I feel a “You’re welcome”…

Will You?

Will you walk with me?
Can we go to the beach?
Will you scout for the best spot and raise my umbrella?

Will you sing to me,In your best morning voice,
Songs of life, and love, and hope, and strength?

Will you think of me,
When I am faraway?
Will your face soften to reflect the sparkle in your eyes?

Will you dance with me
When we are alone?
Will our bodies softly sway, as one?

Will you work with me
When life walks in uninvited?
Will you take my hand and help me find the path of least resistance?

Will you love me
When the blinders are off
And nothing stands between us
and long walks on the beach,
Morning songs,
Softly swaying bodies,
And life.

Without A Fight

I hear it before I see it.

The fullness inside my head competes with a burgeoning, choppy roar for my full attention.

I search the horizon for the crest. I can hear it. I know it’s coming.

A plan.

I need a plan.

Frantically, my troubled mind tears through inner recesses for answers.

Which way to go?

Go or stay?

Run? Or embrace the onslaught and welcome the power of it as threatens to rip me apart?

My mind reflects the quiet just before the break and the decision is made.

Truth, unbidden, bursts forth between gritted teeth and the stage is set.

And when it hits me, I welcome the release with a smile, and yet, still feel the great sense of loss only felt when something very special slips away

without a fight.

Just As You Intended

Just as you intended…

Your words wash over me in waves, a soft caress

soothing

As my soul relaxes, I answer your request to look inside,

at the wonder of you,

and am blinded by strobe-like flashes

of your hunger

of your need

of your brilliant capacity for love.

I ride the crest, luxuriating in your warmth,

until, longing for more, I turn to you

and sink inside your silent void.