There are days, weeks even when your heart, mind and body feel in tune with the world around you. You start every morning energized, even before that first cup of coffee you nearly dance from bed to coffee pot. Then there are other times when you can barely drag yourself from the warmth of your cocoon, when daylight only proclaims the beginning of yet another eighteen hours of purgatory. Last week was one of those weeks for me, oh Hell let’s be honest the past several weeks have been a collection of One Of Those Days.
Despite what some of you might think based on some of what I reveal on these pages, I am truly a happy person most of the time. I work on being happy, I work at being peaceful and grateful. Sure, sometimes I am cranky and there are hours within the day when people, most especially stupid people get on my very last good nerve. Honestly though, mostly I am happy, mostly I am accepting of life, more to the point I am thankful for it and I am at peace with my past. I guess, like most people I have my personal neurosis, my weird quirks; some of which are certainly tied to my history and some of which certain impact my current world.
Nevertheless, these last couple of weeks have been a collection of ONE OF THOSE DAYS.
I have written recently about my marriage and how we are struggling with some of the long-standing imbalances between us. This hasn’t ended, we continue to struggle but the fight has shifted from leaving the marriage to how we remain in it. I do not know what this means, honestly. Perhaps it means we redefine what it is we want out of marriage, one more time. Maybe it means we draw a different map for our hearts. We have always been unconventional in our pairing, our conflicts though have never been about love. Truthfully, I don’t know where this ends or how, the battle lines continue to shift each hill taken not so much a victory as simply an exhausting endeavor, for both of us.
Then there is this season, April brings the first Victim Impact groups of the year. I always feel as if I must gird my heart and loins before walking into the lion’s den, this year finds me with another shift in attitude. Perhaps it is that we have seen so many mass killings this past year, so many deaths with the culmination of Sandy Hook in December. Society has always played a part in how I view what happened to me, how I view offenders, how I view accountability and why ultimately I am willing to talk to them about their role in making it right. I have agreed to five Victim Impact groups this season, three adult and two juvenile. There will likely be more but those are the ones I have agreed to so far. I finished the first juvenile last week and haven’t had the heart to write about what I saw and heard.
Speaking of society, what the hell is wrong with people? I have to ask this question in all seriousness, without snark or sarcasm, really what in the hell is wrong with people today. How can people, elected officials or otherwise 
ignore the obvious in favor of their personal worldview and say or do such ugly things, simply talk out of their ass. I know, I have a personal dog in the fight of a few things and Sane Gun Laws is certainly one of those things, but I also think a touch of humanity is an important ingredient if you are going to serve the public, shouldn’t you have a heart? I suspect those who have served to long in that cesspool called our capital have had their heart ripped out and stored in a mason jar somewhere, surely many of them no longer demonstrate any sense of connectivity to the rest of humanity. Witness the asinine statement made by one of the fourteen asshats who were intent on filibustering debate of Gun Control legislation. While I find the lack of action on this and many other critical issues exhausting I must say, James Inhofe takes the cake this week.
Finally, last Monday I lost my last big four footed friend, I have found my home to be lonely without her. She was sort of dopey, but her age had caught up with her finally and this past six months were hard on her. My sweet Scarlet couldn’t climb the stairs to sit in my office with me anymore, I carried her up and down each morning so we could hang out before I left for the day. She had dropped nearly half her body weight and the vet didn’t know why, except to say her muscles were also being affected and her legs couldn’t support her anymore. Scarlet was half Shepard and half Rottweiler, she was awesome though sometimes not as smart as I might wish she had a sweet temperament and that funny Rottweiler smile. In her last couple of weeks, her friends Cleo and Beau my two cats cuddled her every day purring and sometimes head butting her. Last Monday, when she fell from my back porch and couldn’t get up I knew it was time, I could not continue to keep her with me simply because I didn’t want to face the alternative. I am so grateful to the Veterinary Clinic I use, they are kind and have a wonderful restful space to let go of pets, not a sterile space but a room with carpet, candles and soft music. This is where I held Scarlet until she was gone.
So, the last couple of weeks, well as I said a collection of ONE OF THOSE DAYS.
There is more, but that is enough isn’t it? I could go on and on about the stupid people that seem to roll into my life in waves, they annoy me.
Honestly though, I think part of the problem is spring is late this year. There isn’t enough sunlight and warmth to brighten the day.
How are you holding up?
lifetime and I am simply afraid I will never know what being loved means.
The you I saw in pictures on the beach, when both of us were younger and smiled whenever we were together; it wasn’t often maybe that was why we smiled. The you I talked to for hours on the phone, every single day of the week; why do you tell me now, you don’t like to talk? I don’t remember that about you. The you who wrapped your arms all the way around me and held me for long minutes, as if you would never let me go, as if I mattered. The you who listened to me after a long day at work, who didn’t interrupt to tell what you would do, just listened to me.
My Parents Made Me: all of them, each in their own way contributed to how I view relationships both inside and outside of family. Most people only have one set of parents, I have three and half sets each individual added to who I am over my lifetime. Of course, my biological parents contributed my DNA but more than this, when I met them in my twenties they gave me a sense identity. My adoptive parents showed me the world and expanded my opportunities, they also taught me survival instincts and unfortunately hate. My adoptive father and my heart mother taught me the most important lesson of all, don’t settle for anything short of real love. My heart mother made me more compassionate, she taught me to see others with empathy and to forgive shortcomings, she taught me to heal.
was different. World travel made me look for adventure, excited by new stamps on my passport and miles in my airline bank. Travel wiped out the jingoistic attitude we Americans so often have that cause our “Ugly American” reputation worldwide. Travel seeped into my blood and spirit at a very early age, I have had a passport since I was six and never let it expire. Travel taught me there is wide-world out there that think and do differently than me.
even when she cracked my knees to bend them properly. I loved dance I specifically loved ballet. I loved the discipline of it. I loved the movement, I would move furniture in the living room and dance when no one was home. I would practice form in my bedroom using the window as my barre. Dance taught me self-discipline and beauty.
Whether negotiating a peace treaty between warring nations or who will do the dishes, each side has in mind a desired outcome. The parties come to the table girded for a war of words, their negotiating tactics firmly in mind. Each party, whether they admit it or not wants the upper hand, wants to win.
I decided the other day, as I lay in bed at deaths doorway peaking around the corner wondering quietly whether to simply step through, I decided to start a new series. I haven’t decided whether it will be a weekly series or just when the mood strikes, but it will definitely be a series. Perhaps when I have one entire years’ worth of entries I will gather them all up and market them as book. Maybe though I will just invite my Dearly Beloved to read the entire years’ worth and ‘splain himself.
