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Past, Present and future tense
I’m a woman who can appreciate the past. Because it has given me my future.
I think I knew back then, that if I allowed myself to love the man I shall be spending the rest of my life with – I would have ruined it.
I would have.
I know this about me.
The hypocrisy of love, is not being capable of giving it to someone until you first love yourself. Or perhaps it is not hypocrisy, but a very intelligent and kind way to weed out what is wrong in your life – and Darwinism to an extent, that you are selecting the right mate.
It took a long time for me to do this.
I have spent the weekend very busy – and took some time to myself. 13 minutes into ‘The Hours’ I was so completely smitten with the movie and could completely relate.
I watched some more, after indulging in sashimi (Smiths had sushi grade tuna on sale) then had to Stop! Drop! And Write!
I’m such a sensitive person.
I know this too.
I pick up on the smallest detail, the fainest scent, the most subtle of body language.
I’ve always been a writer. Well, first a reader. An avid reader.
I filled my spare time, (between being OUTSIDE with friends) with reading.
I’m blessed that most of my childhood not only lived up to those books, but exceeded them. I was reading Alice in Wonderland whilst in India, on a bus.
So – yeah.
I’m also a professional writer.
Paid for newspaper and magazine articles.
But – I am not a great writer.
I always wanted to write children’s books.
I started one – a while ago. I wanted to introduce children to ‘big’ and different words.
One started like this:
“I like big words. I like to say, “Persnickety”
My mom was that today.
She smoothed my hair, she ironed my socks,
She cleaned the hands of all the clocks.”
You can see where I was going with that – but I never finish anything.
So I’m watching this movie – and getting melancholy.
I asked myself, “Who am I loving you for?”
Needing for the reason I love my fiancé to be true, and pure, and real.
And they are.
Thing is – he sent me this picture.
They just bloomed out of nowhere apparently. And he lives in such an amazing place.
And he’s coming to this:
Which, may look pretty to some nature lovers out there – but earlier this morning, I had to have my son remove a ‘Ramshead’ (Arizona Burr) from my cuticle. It was not pretty. It was not pleasant. And yes, there was blood.
I don’t think I love myself enough yet to understand that he’s willing to live with burrs in lieu of flowers.
Does that make sense?
I don’t feel worthy.
This quote though, reinforces the very real feelings I have:
“When I’m with him I feel. Yes, I am living. And when I’m not with him … yes, everything does seem sort of silly.”
Musings from the Laundromat: Stay Grateful Pony Boy edition
Me: “Good morning!”
Laundry lady: “Good morning – coffee is already made!”
Me: “Aw! Thank you! You’re a lamb!”
It’s been a long weekend. Getting up early Saturday to let a contractor in, then 2 plus hours of power tools, barking and hammering. End result was great though – I no longer feel like I’m showering in a dilapidated Bates Motel room.
Then came the continuation of ‘The Purge’.
Going through my boxes – my plethora of boxes to make room for new boxes belonging to my fiance.
Would be so great just to pull something out and in a millisecond decide “Donate, Toss or Keep” – but when it comes to cards (I’ve kept every single card I’ve received) or photos – there is no getting around actually opening and looking at them.
By late last night I had decided maybe I need to use the ‘if there was a fire, what would I wish had survived it’ method. But there are too many memories for that.
I did find out on Saturday that my son has been paying attention to me all these years though.
We went grocery shopping – a big shopping trip this time. Out of most everything as I’ve been lackadaisical in the supply department.
I was starving. And on the way back, decided to pull into Taco Bell for some nachos.
Me: “Seriously?? How long does it take to make Nachos??”
Nic: “Remember the ‘there are people who would give anything to be where you are’ thing.
Me: “Yeah, you’re right. We have a car full of food … my son is sitting next to me – healthy. But … seriously!! It’s NACHOS!”
Gratitude is a little harder on an empty stomach.
Must stay Gold … no, wait, I’m not Pony Boy – must stay grateful. Which is a kind of gold.
(Great now I have that maple bacon dog video in my head … ‘the gold kind of grateful – yeah?’)
I reminded myself of this while getting frustrated with my room & closet and after tripping over the nth box for the nth time.
I reminded myself of WHY I was doing the task at hand, and how lucky I am to be preparing for the permanent arrival of my true love. SO I shut the fuck up and kept plugging away.
_______________________
Back to today.
Glaucoma man has donned his Summer attire. It reached almost 90 degrees yesterday – so I don’t blame him. And I’ve got to admit, for a 79 year old man, he’s got some decent get-away-sticks.
Here he is again – posing. lol
I was a little disappointed in him today.
We had our usual ‘eyeball’ chat. Even talked about getting older and about counting blessings. It was lovely. Then he said something a little racist. And I went through that dilemma of ‘do I let him know that’s not okay?’ or ‘do I understand that this man is going to be 80 in 4 months and stuck in his ways … even though he JUST referenced how some people shouldn’t be so ignorant.’
I went with removal of eye contact and no agreeable smile. I think sometimes body language speaks louder than words.
‘Drawing the invisible’ My interview with James D. Foster
And now I will be his wife … Crazy huh? Nah … It was in the comics lol
I am a proud comic book fan. (Okay, I’m a total nerd)
I am a member of The Mystic Order of Arachnid Vigilance (AKA: The Tick fan club) True story. Here I am with the Cypher Matic Decoder Wheel!
I am also a fan of artists, of finding out what inspires them. And I am in complete awe of natural talent.
So, it’s only fitting that I asked my long-lost/recently found talented friend if I could interview him. Because he has natural talent in the art department.
In spades.
I’ll start with sharing what he labeled as his ‘nerdy’ stuff. *Cough* bullshit *Cough*
For instance, this ‘nerdy’ drawing. Because we all know, hands are SO easy to draw. Not.
This is my favorite – amazing grasp of lighting and shading and … just everything!
Now a little gratuitous moment – we played around with a short story I wrote, and…
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Musings from the Laundromat: Long and Winding Road
While routine soothes me – it’s beginning to become glaucoma groundhog day each Sunday.
Bless my little glaucoma man, but for 5 minutes I stood holding an empty canister of laundry sprinkles, listening to him share the latest about his eyes.
My little pocket man is apparently in the hospital – remember him? The one I gave a band-aid to? I just overheard that exchange between his wife and glaucoma man.
That makes me sad.
I just ventured over to the coffee pot in hopes there was some caffeine awaiting. There was.
Laundry lady: I made it just for YOU
Me: You’re a lamb – that’s what you are.
You get connected to people you know?
Just said good-bye to glaucoma man … I’m missing little pocket man. And staring at an ’emotional support’ dog sniffing around the place. Wishing it would come close enough to take a photo of.
I could use some ’emotional support’ right now.
Spent Friday night going through my worldly possessions – and some of them HAVE in fact possessed me. Going through my closet was akin to Mr. Toads Wild Ride.
I looked at old photos – old cards – old diaries and letters. Old ways of thinking, old mistakes … ended up burning a book hoping for some sense of closure.
The book would not burn! I started outside, dug a hole in the dirt (emotional or not, I am a sensible fire starter) and struck match, after match, after match – to no avail. Ended up coming inside and just doing it in the kitchen sink. Only the cover ended up catching fire – but it was enough. I soaked the fire out and put the book in the trash.
Done.
There’s more that must go.
I have this visceral need to remove toxic memories from a home that will be filled with new and amazing ones.
Ever mindful of course, not to forget the lessons I’ve accumulated along my crazy path.
I then got nostalgic – as you do when you’ve just poured through photos. And sat listening to songs (when I should have been cleaning) and stayed up way too late.
Posting stupid things on Facebook – okay, let’s be fair to myself for once, I posted honest and immediate feelings I was having – then deleted them the next morning. I am so very bad at editing myself. I give too much of myself away. Then remember, not everyone wants to know what’s going through my head. If they do … probably they’ll come here. lol.
Anyway – the songs calmed me, songs always do, and with my room in shambles – memories strewn about the place – I found sleep.
This song reminded me of life’s twists, turns and arriving back to my honey.
Rushing into it? 25 years and counting.
32 is my favorite number. (My Nannies old address)
Being ‘next’ is my favorite place to be. (Anticipation)
31 is the day I’m getting married – with my love waiting for me in his moms gazebo.
30 was the table I sat at last night – without him.
I was having a very ‘I miss my love’ day yesterday. I mean, I do everyday, but it was extra palpable yesterday. Visceral.
Had a Chamber of Commerce event last night. A couple came over to our company’s table, newly engaged … there were congratulations and smiles – she flashed her ginormous engagement ring and I remember thinking, ‘HOW is she going to do laundry without snagging something on that??’ lol. I’m not into the ‘bling’. It was pretty, but – I prefer sentimental and subtle.
But, I have to admit, I felt – (while happy for them) so … left out of that celebration. Don’t get me wrong. When Jim posted our engagement on Facebook, so many important people offered their love, their pleased shock and their joy for Jim.
A few offered their congratulations to both of us. That was sweet, and meant so much. I was just so happy people were happy for HIM!
Truly.
I awoke this morning, after my unedited admission of missing my love, to amazing words from him.
He gave me joy, patience and once again, confirmations for the reasons I love him.
Then this:
And his words that accompanied it:
“Found it, after weeks! 1990 and still current.”
That was not my undoing – the ensuing comments were.
“It’s been a long crazy 25 year voyage babe! Bless you for finding me, and never giving up after two plus decades.”
Then:
“Jim. This brings tears to my eyes. Great sketch of your bride to be.” (From a family friend, who will be our wedding photographer.)
Then my son chimes in:
“That’s amazing!”
Jim: No, You’re amazing!
Nic: No, my baby goblin (that’s a D & D reference) and you are amazing!
Jim: Pickles! Now!!!
I was laughing and had tears in my eyes at the same time. Those dorks are my favorite people.
And I get to marry the man who drew the picture I didn’t know was me.
See HERE
Click on that, then come back.
Here’s the deal.
I have loved. As much as I was capable of loving.
I did not know, however, that I was capable of loving someone THIS much.
I’m 45. I’ll be 46 in May and I found my true love – who was 25 years away.
(Yes, dammit, I’m aware I’ve unintentionally rhymed a whole lot lol)
When Jim and I had our week – it was nothing like anything I’ve experienced.
It was comfort – serenity. I didn’t bite my nails – I didn’t feel like I had to constantly be DOING or BEING. I just … was.
And I was a better me.
A happier me.
And my son adored him and that made it the most special time.
Moms, if your kids don’t dig your guy … run! Run SO fast!
But he’s not a kid anymore. It’s March (the longest month that will EVER be for me lol – Jim arrives in April)
Nic will turn 20 this month.
My baby is growing.
I’ve grown too.
I was so jaded – I forgot the feelings of true love.
I’ve mended my bridges with my sons love – pretty sure she’s the mother of my future grandchildren, and, as I told her – ‘expect them to be total nerds. I will feed them cookies and Star Wars’.
Because I get it now.
It took my son falling in ‘true’ love for me to learn how.
And it took my first love, to come back and show me who.
And for that, I’m so grateful.
I love you Jim. And I’m so proud to be your bride.
Debauchery Soup 