Monday, May 28, 2012

Remembrance

It's quiet this morning, the kind of quiet that allows for peaceful thinking and hushed conversation via the telephone with my youngest. She moved out yesterday to a place I have never seen. She wanted to go on her own terms, in her own way, driving her own car. She slipped out of the house with a few of her belongings and a mindset for new beginnings. Last night she called to let me know she got there and she was O.K. I felt the tug on my heart, but smiled as she got off the phone to unload her stuff. Later last night she sent a picture via text of her new home. Again, I smiled knowing she was happy in her new space and ready for the adventures ahead. I texted back, "Yay!" This morning she called to talk. She told me how everything looked, what she had to do to settle in and in her sleepy voice recalled her night's activities with her friends who had been living in Austin, and missing her. I know the feeling. When I got up this morning I felt odd not to see her or hear her in the kitchen doing her usual routine before she had to go to work. This morning there were no cheerful Betty noises, no coffee cup left on the kitchen table, no ipod playing loud music as she roamed the house. It was just really quiet. Mike is sleeping, sick and back from night shift. The others are sleeping as well from their respective night out. Christy and I had coffee last night talking to the wee hours about life stuff, job stuff and just stuff. We laughed and sipped until we each decided we had had enough. Dan kissed the top of my head as went off in his car driving off into the night. Tom had been out with friends. So this morning as they all sleep, it is quiet. The dogs are snoring, the cats are resting in their bathroom cabinet, Jim the rabbit is laying o his side totally relaxed and our sugar glider, Jeepers is sleeping in his sack. All is peaceful here at our home. I am the only awake enough to accomplish much of anything, but am choosing to enjoy the quiet of the day instead. At the risk of waking those fast asleep, I am choosing to putter around the house with minimal noise. When Betty was little, she had gotten up really early one morning and had found me sitting on our front porch, sipping coffee, being quiet. She opened the large front door, peeking her head out she asked, "Mama, what are you doing all by yourself?" I beckoned her to the bench and sat her down next to me. "I am enjoying the peace and quiet," I said in a soft voice. Thinking she too had to keep her voice down, she whispered, "Aren't you lonely?" I remember smiling at my tiny child who had no understanding of the grownup need for quiet. "Yes, I am always lonely without you," and with that I hugged and kissed my waif, in her colorful pajamas. Funny, how true that is fifteen years later. I am always lonely without her, even as I take in the quiet, peacefully drifting in and out of my own thoughts. This week will be another week of change. More moving, more quiet, more things that will feel very foreign to me. Even with Mike home, since he is on night shift, I barely see him. I just sighed. I seem to do that a lot lately, this deep sighing thing. It seems as though it is the physical manifestation of my mental state of acceptance. It is my way of reaching a point of surrender. Just like my Betty, I have unseen adventures ahead. There is the long road ahead to destinations unknown. It is almost perfect that I am in this space at the exact time my youngest child is in it also. The universe in it's infinite wisdom has placed me where I may very well have the most understanding of what she is going through. It is the first time since this all began for us that I see any reason to it at all. I just sighed again. This time it was more of a "Oh, so that's what that is all about" sigh. My three day weekend is coming to a close. There were no family picnics, no barbecues, no gatherings of any kind. We have no other family here so there is no where else for us to be, except together, like we are on our holidays. This morning as I watched the sun rise, the birds and butterflies awaken in the garden, I prayed for those who gave everything so I could enjoy this quiet. It is quite perfect, really, the solace of the morning, the sound of my deep sighs, the silent prayer for those who died in honor for the freedom my youngest child is taking full advantage of in order to become another great American. It's a good day to remember how lucky we all are, and how many brave people from every corner of this nation, gave so much.

Friday, May 25, 2012

Don't let the Door Hit Ya

My child, my youngest is moving out tomorrow. I am happy for her, I am. I have watched her grow into a magnificent woman of character, strength and beauty. I am incredulous at the notion that it is our time to part. I knew one day when my baby was old enough she would take off and fly on her own. I also knew, her being my youngest child, my miracle baby, I would feel particularly torn about her departure. It’s funny how much I want my kids to grow up and be strong independent people, but as they have, I find myself missing the days when they were little and we were together every day. I confess, that as I was raising my kids alone back then, there were days I thought I would pass out I was so tired of being together all the time, but also looking back, I see how much I grew up with them. I learned so much from my kids, the very best of each other was passed as if by osmosis. Shear proximity in our tiny house caused each of us to bare the other’s finger prints having been pressed hard on our flesh and our hearts. I talk to my kids all the time, whether in short abbreviated spurts or long winded patio talks when we are relaxed, legs dangling over the side of the furniture as if we have forever. We are a close knit group of vagabonds, an Irish mafia, war buddies, each other’s keepers…we are family. When one child moves on, the group sways in unison, the vacancy felt and silently acknowledged. It isn’t as though we want everyone to stay in one place stagnated, or even suffocated by our familiarity, but rather, even in understanding the necessity of the evacuation, we still feel the loss, even if for only a moment. So it goes with what will soon be more than half of our family. More than half of the original five and absolutely fifty percent of the current six will be departing. Some of these departures are normal, expected and even celebrated as our brood morphs from dependents to independent adults. Some of the departures feel wrong, awkward, forced and I see the worried looks on the faces of my family. I see the family sway, as if taking a blow to the stomach or in this case, their heart. We still have each other, and thanks to modern technology, we will have the ability to see each other over the web. It’s not as good a having them here, but it helps. Little by little over the next year our family, my band of brothers and sisters will all be heading in different directions. I had once dreamed of a large family home with a front porch and an attic full of memories of our time together in a single home. I had thought we would settle in, while they were still so young, and stay in one spot; a spot the kids would come to for holidays, for dinners, for time with us. I am letting go of my dream, my nonexistent existence that I had longed for, but was unable to attain. We are headed for a much different life, a life that scares me sometimes in its unfamiliarity. I am becoming more accepting of the departure of my darlings, the loves of my life going to strike out on their own, and even my boyfriend, having to find his way back to me. Tomorrow is another “goodbye for now”. I will peel my fingers off my child one by one, and help load the last of her most precious belongings into her car. I will pack her up knowing she may be back years later, or this may be the last time we live together as a unit. I am happy for her, I am. I have been preparing for this day for the last twenty years. I have taught her everything I know and I can see now how she needs to learn more on her own. Michael and I are so proud of our youngest. I see in my darling boyfriend’s eyes how much love he has for our daughter, how much he wants her happy. Someone recently asked me how I was doing with all the changes going on in my household. I stood for what seemed like an eternity, staring blankly back at this person. The person looked back at me with what was an obviously “concerned for my mental health” look. Snapped out of my fog with the need to console the person, I responded, ‘Oh, I am fine. We are all just fine. Things are fine.” The truth is I am fine for the most part. This is what it is. Some things are extremely joyful and happy while others are complete heartbreak. It’s life, or at least it’s my life. I started looking into taking classes in order to not be alone; I was thinking of taking French or Spanish or dance. I will go to the movies, go to restaurants and eat at the bar; I will do what I used to do so many years ago on the few weekends when the kids were small, when they would go off to their dad’s house and I was alone. So much is coming to a close for us. I have decided to try and open some new doors.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

It's A Birthday Thing

Today is my birthday, well, me and Billy Joel. My 49th birthday, in fact. I am really digging this time in my life, regardless of all the stuff going on. Recently, I have been having really good days. Mike just got his bike back, intact and complete, no damage or high drama. My feeling is some kid mistakenly thought he/she could take it home and call it found, when their parent noticed it's high price tag and panicked turning it in to the police. They were probably parents much like ourselves, who would have known better. Thank you to them from the bottom of my heart. Good people are out there. Monday I had my full circle massage, where the dearest soul came to our house and filled it with light. I came out of our room to discover fried chicken had been bought and left for me, complete with mashed potatoes ad gravy. It was a lovely surprise and the perfect ending to pretty stellar day. Yesterday, I had wine on the patio as I visited with our kids and Mike. We just sat and talked and laughed at the fact that I cannot hold my liquor. Two glasses in, I was laughing so hard I slobbered a little. The night jasmine are in bloom now, the smell wafts through the yard, the sweetness of it hanging in the thick southern air covering me with it's perfume. I fell asleep feeling very content. I woke up in the middle of the night, as I frequently do, especially after wine, and still carried the feeling of happy with me. I played the music my friend sent to me. I had gotten to have apple cobbler and ice cream yesterday as we, the college staff got to celebrate the end of the year. I laughed yesterday, met new people and talked to some of my favorite students who are now finishing finals and getting to take the summer off. I found out that a student sings at a wine bar and am planning on seeing her this weekend. She sings jazz, a favorite of mine. Saturday, my one real request for this Birthday/Mother's day week and all I really wanted was a family portrait, while we are all together. I know we will all gather for a moment, laugh, take the picture and all will disburse. Mike and I will have the entire evening to be together, sipping imported wine and listening to my little jazz singer as we cuddle in a corner, remembering why it is we feel so lucky to have each other. I woke up this morning to a note on my computer notepad that said "HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Your son loves you!" from my oldest son. Right now, it's all pretty wonderful and a much needed relief from the pressure cooker that has been our life. Today, I have made plans to be with my adopted little sister. I have big plans with her to run around and do ridiculous stuff all day long. I took a vacation day. This is the first time in my industrious career, I have been able to do that. I remembered to thank my boss for the privilege. My birthday is the day when I celebrate my own version of Fat Tuesday. When she asked what she should wear, I told her flip flops and stretchy pants. I will explain later why that is the required dress. For now I don't want to ruin the surprise. Tonight, as I perch near my beloved, we will sit in my beautiful garden. You see, we put in flowers, blooming vines, flowering bushes, all kinds of exotic and not-so-exotic plants that surround our small yard in order to create an oasis. It the place where I can go and sit and dream of wonderful things, sip mojitos with Michael and laugh, swing under the breezy, night sky and pray, quietly enjoying my patch of peace. We built it in order to create our own Eden. I placed my carefully chosen statues, water fountain and bird bath. Torches and solar lights illuminate our newly created paradise. It's lovely, it is. If I remember, and let's not forget I am now older, I will post pictures of our garden. It is a place to feel grateful, to let go of the fear, let go of the anxiety and celebrate all that we have. Yep, it's all been pretty wonderful, in a time when wonderful was much needed and desired. I realized I have learned so much in the past year. I became a Financial Aid Advisor, something that had never even been on my radar before. I have met incredible people, some requiring my help, and some who have helped me. I have become practiced at letting go, though I am still not proficient, I am so much more accomplished than I had been. My love for my husband has grown exponentially in this time, too. It's such an incredible feeling to know I can love someone that much. It's opened me, allowed me to feel everything without reservation, or incrimination. The freedom in just being exactly who I am with someone and feeling that safe, that protected, well, there really aren't words to describe it. It allows me to be happy in whatever place I happen to be in at any given moment, even when it feels like I may fall apart. I get to be multi-faceted, three dimensional, completely whole. I guess, that is what real love does, allows me to feel whole all the time. In this last year I have been given the greatest gift I have received, the gift of feeling loved enough to just be me. My friends have given me this gift, my family has given me this gift, and now, even I have given me this wonderful opportunity to enjoy it all with hesitation. Yesterday, one of the student workers said, "I love you, Miss Kellie!" I replied with a wry smile, "Thank you so very much. That makes me happy. It's such a gift, not everybody feels that way." She looked and me and smiled, "I don't see why not? Does that bother you?" I smiled back at her young face, her innocence, and said, "I may not be everyone's cup of tea, but I am happy enough not to be changed by it, and old enough now, not to care. Remember, be you, Girl, just be you!" With that, we both laughed and went back to work.

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Full Circle

I was sitting here thinking of what I could write that would make sound as if I have had some sort of insight as of late. What have learned lately? What new and interesting ideas have I had? Needless to say, I was having some trouble on that front. Nothing much for me has changed. My life, in it's current state, seemed very much the same...except there have been some interesting things I have noticed. Mike had his beloved bike stolen. It was a top of line, hybrid he saved for years in order to get. We both felt really bad and figured we would have to write it off as a gift to charity, when suddenly we got a call from the police department that someone had turned it in and he would have to identify it at the police property room. There was a match and he will soon be able to pick it up. Now, we do not know what condition it is in, but someone had turned it in, so an honest person, had done the right thing. Our youngest, the one who had a broken foot after a terrible accident, the one who was terrified of driving because she had lost friends to an accident, got her license. Not only does she now drive, but she has her very own car to do it in. I am the one who remains a little scared, but she is 20 years old and it is definitely time. Mike and I had been downtown when we had seen that one of our favorite haunts was closed down. Saddened by the loss of another place we liked being taken, we figured, from the down economy, we gave up looking for another one like it. Mike was having to fill out paper work for his bike when he noticed it had moved across town and was not closed at all. Little things keep popping up, small acts that impact our small lives keep showing up, giving us something to smile about. For me, I discovered something wonderful. I met a young woman, who had been a battered wife. She was a single mother with a small child who had gone into the college for help. She was going back to school. When I first met her she looked down, tired, beaten. I gave her all the financial aid advice I had to give and I looked her square in the eye. I took all of her in, seeing myself, not that long ago, just trying to keep it together. Recently, I saw her again. She had color in her cheeks. She smiled easily and although she was still tired, she was doing what she had to do in order to build a better future for her and her child. She is a massage therapist, like I used to be. She is a single mother, like I used to be. We made plans for her to come to my house for massages, this time I will be getting one rather than giving one. I had come full circle. "You remember me?" she asked stunned. "Oh, yes, I still pray for you. I have prayed for you since we first met. I will never forget your eyes and your face. I have been willing my strength to you since I last saw you," I said. She looked at me so shocked. "I can't believe you remembered who I was." I put my hand on her back, "I knew what you were facing. I have been you. I wanted you to know one day you would be happy again, and you will." There is a shift, albeit a slight one, there is definitely a shift going on in my life. Last week I got to do some things at work I just love doing. I got to talk to prospective students. It is my very favorite thing to do. No one, and I do mean no one, believes in higher education more than I do. I have been pushing that on my own kids and their friends since they could walk. I am legitimately excited about people going back to school. I had so much fun talking to the high school kids about college, even with a subject matter as dry as financial aid. It's my thing, right down to my shoes. I know they feel it, too. I know when I connect with them, when they see how much I believe what I am saying. I am not so much selling the school as I am telling them about my passion for education. I believe education isn't something, it's everything. I got sick at the end of the week with a fever and hacking cough. I got a full on chest cold that had me curled into a ball on the couch for several days. I ached, couldn't breathe and my head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Today, I felt almost normal. I still break into the occasional body wracking cough, but I am up and around and even went to the grocery store. My newly formed attitude of curiosity about the shift, well, it is comforting to me. I fell inside much better than my outsides would show. Michael's moving date is looming very close in the future. I began crying on my way to the store, in my car. I stopped myself before it all got out of hand. I tried to reassure myself with the newly noted shift. I began a prayer in my head, hoping God could take a moment and listen to my heart. "Please let him stay. Please allow this to work out and us be together. 'Let no man put asunder'". My world that has been so out of kilter, for a few moments, several times this week things were put right again. I got to witness goodness an several different levels of my meager existence. There enough of them I could take solace and have a patch of peace. My grandmother used to say, "You have forgotten who you are" when she would see me come close to giving up. Not to worry, Grandma, I am not going to give in just yet.