One Year Later
I moved my last post back to the draft folder. I was hesitant to publish it at all, even privately, and bare myself so completely as to the struggle of emotions.
Those of you who read and as usual, supported me, thank you. Your words mean so much and I feel each one of them as a warm embrace.
The sheer act of writing has brought about some form of catharsis. The emotions have shifted to something different, less intense and not quite as crushing.
Life and the act of living it never ceases to ebb and flow. The waters rush in and bring forth a wave of the unexpected and just as suddenly recede and take with them part of me.
***
I so rarely have time to write in this space now. I thought after the divorce, it would be the opposite.
Work has gotten busier.
Now only having Ava for half the time, I find myself tethered much less to the online world when I’m with her. It’s our time, and it’s precious time. I don’t want her to look back in 20 years and remember me as always on the computer or always checking my phone.
I took a chance and started doing something I enjoy – food blogging. I don’t know where it will lead, if anywhere. But I’m having fun doing it, most of the time, although it does seem to take up time that I used to spend here, writing.
I’ve been working on learning how to use the fancy camera I bought for myself a couple years ago. I would love to be able to take photographs that are frame-worthy, instead of “Oh, dear, I think we’ll just delete that one”.
They say that 40 is when a people really start to know themselves. I’ll be 39 in less than a month, and as I approach that number, I see that there is definitely some truth to that. I think it’s also an age in which we are more easily able to identify the disingenuous in others as well. I see things, and people so much more clearly now than before. Sometimes it comes as a great surprise to know that in which you have counted on was not in fact, what you ever thought it was. Or maybe you did, but you convinced yourself otherwise. It gets harder to lie to one’s self as you age, I think. It’s harder for you brain to play along.
I find I’m much better able to pick my battles. I find myself backing away from things more often, knowing I would be fighting a losing battle.
I rediscovered the pleasure of sleeping alone. At first it was strange, after sharing a bed for 12 years. But after the oddness wore off, I found how much I love it. I can stay up late watching tv in bed, or reading a book. I can toss and turn and not worry that I’ll wake anyone. I don’t have to worry that my body pillow and I are taking up too much room. There is no snoring to keep me awake.
Of course, I enjoy cuddling with Ava on our “sleepover nights”, which happen once a week. It’s nice to be able to reach out and have her hold on to my hand as she sleeps. I’ll savor that for as long as she will let me, for I know the day is coming when even a hug from me will seem “uncool”.
I enjoy a girls’ night out with a friend now and then. Something that I never used to do, but I find now to be immensely fun.
I got on a plane last year for the first time in several years. It was terrifying and thrilling and I can’t wait to do it again.
I discovered the kind of friends that all women should have: honest and steadfast. The kind that will tell you when you’re being a jackass, hold you up when you’re falling down, and find places to bury the bodies. The kind of friends that will be around in 50 years when we’re all hard of hearing and are yelling at each other over the breakfast table at I-Hop.
When you’re alone, especially after a life changing event, it’s almost impossible not to do a lot of navel gazing and introspection. I’m not perfect and a lot of my failures and flaws led me right to where I am today.
I’m getting better and discerning what truly makes me happy and what was just filler for when I wasn’t. Maybe that’s the secret of life.
4th Annual Bloggy Holiday Card Exchange
Wishing you all a wondrous holiday season.
May 2012 be a happy healthy year.
So grateful for having all of you in my life.
Head here to see all the other wonderful holiday cards. Thanks to Meghan for doing this again this year. So fun!
When Words Are Too Much Work
Some days it’s a struggle to even reply to an email, much less start one. Some days I look at the text message on my phone and wonder how long I can ignore it.
It’s not that I don’t want to talk. It’s that using my words is too hard some days. If you’ve never experienced it, you’re unlikely to understand it.
It’s not a cataclysmic event propelling me into a place of quiet. It can be old memories flooding back, creeping into corners I thought had been cleared out.
Small things, little things. Mundane life, death, grief, panic, contentment. The jumble, the tumble of emotions that any given day can wash on shore.
The death of a friend, who left behind a daughter close in age to the 17 year old me who buried her father. The things that never quite get packed up at put away, no matter how many locks you turn and how many walls you build.
The upcoming holidays, which will be different from all previous ones. In some good ways, in some ways that could be better. The uncertainty of how it will feel.
Darker days, shorter days. Cold and cloudy. It fits my mood.
I want to retreat into my shell, except, I don’t. I take breaks, and know that I”m lucky enough to have three best friends who understand, and let me hide for a bit. But never for too long. They always coax me back out into the sunlight.
They get it. They get me. And I need to thank them publicly for that. For supporting me. For picking me up when I fall down. For lying down with me when I couldn’t get up.
For understanding when words are too much work.
Not a step back, but maybe to the side
It’s no secret around here that I struggle with self esteem issues. I have for 38 years. I’ve made some remarkable strides in dealing with those. Life’s circumstances have me facing the world on my own, and a new-found self confidence has been emerging.
However, it’s fragile. Tentative. Which almost seems like an oxymoron, but that’s what happens when you feel inadequate and just LESS than for your entire life. Changes don’t happen overnight and for someone who struggled for so long, it’s not hard to experience something that will knock me back a step.
I’ve been learning how to accept help. I’ve been learning how to take a compliment gracefully. I’ve been learning that who I am is ok, even great at times, and lousy at others. I’ve learned that it’s ok to fail, and to not try to appear perfect.
Today I feel like I just took a leap backward.
A simple comment on a Facebook post. The implication that my daughter’s father is her primary caregiver. The implication that the child doesn’t even HAVE a mother. I wanted to yell, scream and shout at this woman. “SHE HAS A MOTHER! AN INVOLVED MOTHER! A mother who sings her baby girl to sleep every night. A mother who takes her on shopping trips and to the playground. A mother who worries over her, watches her play. A mother who helps her learn things and then stands back to watch her attempt them on her own. A mother who prepares her meals and gives her her allergy meds every morning.
I know it’s not this woman’s fault. Somehow, it’s what she was led to believe.
I don’t have to justify myself to her. Or to anyone. I know what kind of mother I am. I’m a really good mother.
As usual, I have my friends to thank for helping me put it all into perspective. I love that they will tell me when I’m freaking out over nothing.
Thank you for reminding me that what anyone else thinks does not matter.
Remembering to Smile
I have come to realize that I tend to dwell on the negative an awful lot. I’m not a half glass empty person. I’ve always been more of a glass is surely going to break and cut my hand at any moment person.
Yeah.
I’m trying to change that about myself, thanks to some wonderful friends and some good tools from therapy sessions. I don’t always succeed, and lately it has been harder than ever to focus on the positive. With so many changes looming and so much of it being filled with uncertainty, some days I feel simply overwhelmed by all that is happening.
I vented all over one of my best friends in an email today. Poor dear simply emailed to offer some help and I spewed an entire page worth of angst and whines.
I felt infinitely better after doing so, I will admit.
But it got me to thinking about trying to push my brain toward more positive thoughts. To focus on the good things in my life and remember the things that make me smile, even if it’s through tears.
So that I remember them, I’m going to list some here. On days when I’m feeling angry or bitter or just plain melancholy, I will look at it and remember that life has it’s good side too.
Things that make me smile:
- Ava asking to get in bed with me to cuddle.
- My necklace, that reminds me every day that someone loves me.
- Emails from friends, whether they be silly or heartfelt.
- Unexpected sunshine on a rainy day, no matter how fleeting.
- The warmth from my electric blanket on a cold winter night.
- Comfortable new shoes, even if they aren’t the height of fashion.
- The smell of my new soap, which lingers slightly on the skin.
- The jingle of my charm bracelet and the weight of the charm that reminds me of the best day of my life.
- The smell of roast cooking in the crockpot.
- The salty tang of that first bite of salt and vinegar chips.
- Making a friend laugh when she’s had a hard day.
- Warm hugs from Ava.
Last but not least, just seeing this face every day.
I Have A Friend
I have a friend.
I have a friend who thinks she’s not beautiful, but she is. Inside and out, she has beauty unlike any I have ever seen. Eyes that are deep and soulful. A million watt smile.
I have a friend who thinks she’s depressing, but she’s not. She is on a bumpy stretch of highway that is but a temporary detour to a smooth road ahead. It is ok to talk about the bumps. It’s ok to cry. It is ok to just be. Those who love you understand.
I have a friend who is a good friend. Even when she is down, she always manages to have a kind word of encouragement for her friends. She is always willing to kick a behind if needed. Or to hold out a hand in friendship, if asked for.
I have a friend who is funny, who makes me smile when I see her picture or her name. Even through the dark days, she has always made me laugh.
I have a friend who wishes things were perfect, who wishes she were more in control of where things are headed. Sometimes, though, it can be freeing to let go of the reins, even though it might be scary at first. Sometimes, you can’t have perfection, but just enjoy those perfect little moments as they come along.
I have a friend who is an awesome mom. She worries that she is missing out. She worries that he is missing out. However, what he is witnessing is a mom who never gives up. A mom who fights and keeps going. A mom who is strong. He will be a strong man, because of the mom that he has now.
I have a friend. A friend named Lu. I am very lucky to call her my friend. If you are lucky enough to call her a friend, too, tell me your favorite Lu moment. Tell me what YOU love about Lu.
Fitting In
I keep reading about fitting in. Or not, as the case may be. Issa wrote a great post about it. About expectations, obligations, frustrations.
I started a Twitter account a little over a year ago. If memory serves me right, it was because I wanted to follow Tweets from a local restaurant (I might be a tiny bit obsessed with food). I never in a million years thought it would have the impact on me that it did. I met people who would become my very best friends. The fact that they live in another state and we’ve never met face to face (YET) is irrelevant. Like Issa said, if a body needed to be hid, she and Liz are who I’d call.
At one point, I had close to 800 followers. Sure, at least half of them wanted to sell me something or have me watch their latest porno, but still…I was becoming a big deal on Twitter. (Insert snorting guffaws here). And then something happened to me. It’s something I can’t really explain, at least not here. But I stepped back. I left. In short? I got my priorities in order. A couple of months later I came back. I sat down with my list of followers/followees and pared it down. I got down to the nitty gritty, so to speak. I realized that I just didn’t have a connection with some people. Those are the ones that didn’t make the cut. Instead of trying to force myself into their mold, or them to mine, I simply removed myself from their circle. The ones left? Are my tribe. The people I have fun with. I laugh with. I cry with.
I don’t regret not trying to attract the attention of say…Dooce. Or Tanis. Or TheBloggess. They are a big deal on the internet. They have thousands of followers. They have close friends online. Trying to attract their attention is kinda like shouting into a hurricane. Yeah, they’re cool. But ask yourself, are you trying to attract their attention simply so you can say “OMG, Redneck Mommy Tweeted at ME!”, or is it because you genuinely like them as a person? If all you are doing is trying to run with the big dogs, you are missing out on so much. There are some wonderful, amazing people out there. They may not have 10,000 followers on Twitter, or 500 comments on every blog post. But they are warm, genuine, caring people. Some will share your interests. Some won’t. You simply have to find your tribe. The people who share your interests, your values, your experiences. If you do that, your experience online will be better, not only for you, but for those you connect with as well.
Stop trying to fit in. When you find the people you can genuinely call friends, it won’t be because you plugged your square peg into their round hole. It will be because you were yourself. Be true to yourself, be who you are. The rest will follow.
All in the Details – For Layla Grace
My circle of friends on twitter is in pain today. For months we’ve all been watching, waiting and praying that a little girl with cancer would beat the odds. For about the last month, we knew she was going to lose her battle. Today, a sweet little girl, not much older than my Ava has flown away to be with angels.
I chose not to follow updates from her parents. Too fresh on the heels of Maddie’s passing and dealing with Ava’s own issues, I felt it was too much for me to handle. I come off as a real asshole a lot of the time, but since having a child, I’m a big old softie when it comes to kids. I still tear up thinking about Maddie. I don’t know if that will ever change.
Many of my friends do follow Layla Grace. Through their updates, I was seeing the down hill progression anyway. Some days I would close Twitter altogether, shut down Facebook and log off. Too much. Too much pain.
Today in the course of discussing our shared grief, my friend Becky asked this question:
I started thinking about that. Why did I have to excuse myself to the restroom and lay my head on the cool wall while I cried and sobbed after hearing Layla had passed away? Why did Maddie’s passing hit me so hard? It’s not just that as a mother, I can empathize with the fear and heartache. But with blogs and Twitter, we are afforded a glimpse into the daily lives of people in a way that we’ve never experienced before. We see the big things, jobs, houses, marriages, divorces, birth, and death. But we see all the little things in between. Things that normally we would only know about someone if we knew them in real life.
We hear about how a day is spent. We read about likes and dislikes of minute things. We learn about favorite colors, hated foods. What makes someone smile. The kind of music enjoyed. The details. The details that make us all unique. The details that, when all put together, form a picture of a person that allows us to be drawn in. The details that make us feel the person we are reading about is familiar. We begin to care. We even begin to love.
So truly, is it any wonder then, that as a community we grieve so hard for people we never actually laid eyes on, never touched, never spoken to. We don’t need those things to form a bond or develop emotions.
We will all remember and grieve in our own ways. For me, writing is what I do. I examine, I process, I think.
Today I am thinking about Layla Grace and her family. I wish for peace and comfort. I pray that this is the last time I have to wish for that.
Soar high and free, Layla. Your pain and suffering on this earth are at an end. May the sun always shine on your face and you feel nothing but love and joy in the next life.
Not Building Back The Wall
To be honest, I really don’t know how to start with this one. I do know that I am upset. I am hurt. Once again drama has reared its head. I swear to God, I don’t go consciously looking for it.
You would think after being burned so badly in the past, I’d be slower to take down my defenses. In a lot of cases, I am. However, every so often someone comes along and they just have a way of making you feel comfortable. So you share. You share intimate details of your life. You exchange histories. You talk about the deep dark thoughts you have. You talk about your fears, your hopes. You feel a kinship. The human experience only has so many variances and you discover that you share many of them.
And then. Something said in private becomes a public matter. Maybe not in an overt way, but to those who share the secret knowledge it’s clear.
From there on, you feel you must censor what you say, lest it be the next joke for someone to get a laugh. For a while you say nothing. Unsure of yourself, because now you are questioning your own judgment. You feel you are being asked to keep secrets from the people closest to you in this world, except for your spouse. You feel guilt. And then you realize that the situation you are in was not of your making. You didn’t make private matters public. You kept the confidences that were so generously gifted to you.
And yet the part that bothers you the most is how you felt as though you were being asked to choose. Choose between loyalty to a new friend and loyalty to the friends that have held your hand through your darkest hours. Friends that no matter if you went 2 hours or 2 days without speaking to, would still be your closest friends.
That’s where my line in the sand was drawn. To be honest, I had thought about a second chance. I mean, everybody makes mistakes and I am certainly no stranger to them. But asking me to lie to my best friends was a line I cannot and will not cross.
So I will put this in the “Lessons Learned About Online Friendships” file. I will be careful to whom I spill secrets in the future. I will be more aware that just because I have some things in common with someone, it does not mean that they will always behave the way I would, or would wish them to do.
My walls aren’t any taller. But at least one brick is going back in.
What I am Thankful For
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. It’s a day when families come together and celebrate all that they have been given. It’s a day without the pressure of gifts, or elaborate decorations. It’s a day to just revel in all that life has given us.
Until Avacakes was born, I don’t think I ever understood truly, the meaning of the word grateful. Like so many other emotions, it was there, buried underneath the surface. Her arrival into my life made me realize the true meaning of joy, happiness, appreciation and even fear.
But today, let me give thanks for all that I have been blessed with.
First, for my husband. We’ve had our rocky moments. The times that made us question our relationship and ourselves. But we’ve always managed to pull through it and lean on each other. I have a renewed sense of us, and our future. He lets me lean on him when I need to, and steps back when I need solitude. I am thankful every day that I have this wonderful man in my life, as my partner and friend.
My daughter. Oh, Ava. Words can never truly express how much you mean to me. How thankful I am to have you. That you are happy, healthy and full of life. Each morning brings new smiles and laughter to the house that is now a home because of you. You remind me to take joy in small things. Watching you grow has been the greatest treasure I could have been given. My heart bursts with joy and pride each time I look at you. You are the light of my life, and I am truly grateful.
Family. The ones close, and the ones far away. My husband’s family who took me in 10 years ago and made me part of their family. You gave me a sense of belonging I hadn’t felt since my father passed away. For that I can never thank you enough.
My tribe. My online community of friends. I am amazed by your generosity, your kindness. I’ve seen it in the past week as everyone once again came together in a time of crisis and need. Once again, you stepped up. I hope I never need that kind of support, but it’s comforting to know it would be there if I did.
My newfound friends. You know who you are. The ones I’ve shared emails, and texts with. The ones who let me lean on them. The ones who trust me with their own troubles. I am humbled and grateful beyond words to have found you.
I hope all of you have a wonderful Thanksgiving. May it be a safe and joyous one.
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