Keep your dollar

Mike is working out of town today, and while I usually go home to eat lunch I decided to go for a walk today.

But that of course left me with no time to actually eat anything, so then I had to make the choice between not eating lunch and going through a drive-thru somewhere. So I ended up at McDonalds. (I know, I know, gross, I know, but I figured eating something was better for my metabolism than not eating at all).

There's all alley in between the drive-thru and some houses, and while I was waiting to order I looked over and saw a guy sitting on a cooler writing in a notepad. Next to him was a suitcase with a cardboard sign on top that read "First time in 60 years have needed a hand. I apologize and God bless."

Sitting there I thought about how many people had just passed him by and how hard it must be to  be so down and out that you have to ask for money from people you don't even know. I thought about the dollar bill I had and wondered if I should give it to him. I don't normally carry cash, but I had a dollar in my purse today. I was not going to stop.  I was running late getting back to work from lunch, and how was I supposed to know he actually needed the money? I mean, it sucks, but I am sure there are people in the world who just go set up shop on a street corner who aren't actually in need but just want some extra cash. Douchebags.

Healing

Feeling much better today.

My incisions are starting to itch, I guess that means they are healing. I'm not supposed to be lifting more than 25 pounds and blah blah. I'm trying to be good, but I can't just sit around either.

I went for a decent walk today, and I did a little bit of yard work.

I practiced playing my guitar today. I learned how to play the "Downard Spiral" tune. It is the few notes that repeat several times on the Nine Inch Nails album. Trent plays it on the piano at the end of "Closer." It's not much, but at least I am making some progress. I just have too many projects and things I want to do.

I finally talked to Aria today. I called her and she was actually talkative and wanted to spend some time on the phone with me to tell me all about the new house and her new room. They went to Worlds of Fun yesterday, it's an amusement park in Kansas City. She told me about her favorite rides and that she wants us to go when we come visit. She got a new bed, it is a loft bed. I guess her new room is a bit small so they got the loft bed to make more space. She's in love with her memory foam mattress.

She met a girl named Holly who has the same birthday as her. Not just the same day, but the same year and everything. What are the odds of that? I mean, I could probably figure it out or Google it, but I really don't want to right now. I just know that it does not happen often.

We talked for about an hour, it was nice to hear her voice. And she's happy and doing well. Talking to her really put me at ease, I may be able to sleep more than just a few hours tonight!

Devin keeps asking me when she's coming home. I told him that she moved to a different city, but it's hard for him to understand what is going on. He misses her, and it is hard for me to see that and try to put him at ease.  I tell him that we all miss her and we will visit her.

I have started disassembling the pallets that my friend Krysten's husband got me from his job. I am learning that taking apart a pallet is a royal pain in the ass. They're built sturdy for a reason, I suppose, and that reason is not to be turned into book shelves and wine racks, lol. I can't wait to actually sand the planks down and begin making something with them. Who knows, maybe I will find a niche that I did not know I had. Maybe I will get addicted to repurposing pallets. There are worse things to be addicted to.

I'm going back to work Wednesday. I feel like I have not been there forever. I took the week off before Aria left to spend some time with her, and it was during that week that I found out that I would have to have surgery, so then I came back to work for a few days and then had to take more time off. My boss and co-workers are very understanding, but I still feel bad, I feel like I am leaving everybody hanging. There is not really a back-up person for my job, so when I am gone it just gets put on hold. I am used to that though. Anyone want to guess how many emails I will have when I get back? I am gonna say 1,005. Why not, it is a nice number. And 998 of them will be someone telling me I have won $10,000 and need to give out my bank account number or someone wanting me to buy printer supplies at three times the normal cost. Um, ya, delete.

Mike's crew starts painting the Fed Ex building tomorrow. It is a big job, it is going to take awhile. He's excited. Did I mention I am super great at being sarcastic?

My great-grandma turns 99 next week. Almost a century . . . we're having a big birthday party for her. I can only imagine the things she's seen. . . television, World War II, Kennedy, man on the moon, the Vietnam War, the fall of the Soviet Union, computers, cell phones, cloning sheep. She's so sweet and so humble. I really want to sit with her for awhile and ask her about her memories. I want to be able to have stories for my family history stuff.

As a sort of final note here, if it seems like I have been avoiding people lately, don't take it personal. I have just sort of shut out technology and kept things very simple in my life for the last couple weeks and I have not really talked to anybody. I have needed some time to be still, if that makes any sense. Probably not, my mind is weird. Have you ever meditated? Everyone needs a reset. I am sure when I get back to work on Wednesday things will get back into a routine.

I love you all.

Two life events; one week

It's the morning of Saturday, July 9. Aria is moving to Kansas City on Monday. It's hard to believe it is already here. It came too fast.

I'd like to think that I have been handling it fairly well. I think I have just been pretty numb, with the exception of a couple of nights ago, when, as I lay in the darkness squeezing my pillow like a child it hit me full force.

I want what is best for her. If moving to a larger city with more diversity, more commerce, etc. is a good opportunity for her then I have to let it be. She wants that experience, who am I to tell her she can't at least try it?

I've spent the last couple of days going through all of our photos, picking out some of the best ones of family and all of our trips. We went to Mount St. Helens, Astoria, Oregon, saw the Goonies house, then Seaside and Cannon Beach, Oregon.

We've been to West Yellowstone and Old Faithful, Redfish Lake, and of course Lagoon.  My family's cabin up at the Blackfoot Reservoir has always been a favorite. I am going to print them all out and put them in a photo album for her. Today I am taking her out to lunch, just she and I. I am trying to squeeze as much time in with her as I can.

I think my biggest fear is that she does not miss me when she's gone. I know she does not completely understand, but I've done so much for her and protected her from more than she'll know. I guess I will just have to let the knowledge that I have done my best be good enough, but that is so hard.

My surgery has been scheduled for this Thursday, July 14 at 9 a.m. It should be fairly simple unless there are complications (knock on wood). They are going to put me under and everything. That terrifies me. Anesthesia is just one of those weird fears for me. That and parking garages. I freaking hate parking garages. I don't know how long I am going to have to take off work and all of that, but honestly I am not really thinking that far in advance right now.

The nurse told me that the chances of this happening (the reason I need the surgery) are one in a thousand. Lucky me. The doctor said he has not performed this procedure in five years. Should I buy a lottery ticket? Are you feeling lucky, punk?

I went in for my pre-op on Thursday. They had me fill out all the paperwork, you know the "you understand the risks" crap. I've been surprisingly calm, even I thought I would be freaking out more than I am. The doctor commented that "you are handling this surprisingly well, my dear" and I told him that I know that it could be much worse. I mean, it's not like I have cancer or something, so I am grateful. He laughed and jokingly asked if he could make a YouTube video of me saying that. He's a funny guy.

But, I have learned that there is no sense worrying about it too much. I need to be grateful for all the good in my life and accept these bumps in the road, they add character. And I am going to have some kick ass scars. Scars tell stories of trials and remind you that you've survived this far. Have no fear of what the future holds, you're a tough cookie.

I'm scared, I mean, I would be crazy not to be. But Mike is taking some time off work to take care of me and my boss is very understanding. I have a great support system.

I really wish I could tell everyone in my life how much they mean to me, but I fear that they would think I was being weird if I randomly called and said, "you've changed my life, thank you." Maybe next week when things calm down. Maybe letters. I am much better with the written word than spoken. I kind of sound like Foghorn Leghorn from the Looney Tunes when I try to get sentimental when I talk to somebody. "I say, eh I say boy!" Remember that guy? The big rooster?

Complications

I have so many thoughts and ideas, beautiful poems and prose that bounce in my head, and yet, sadly, they rarely make it into something tangible, either because of my time schedule or my own crippling fear of being vulnerable. I wrote a poem just the other night about what the night does while we sleep. Is it jealous of the day because we pay much more attention there or is it content to watch us while we dream? I'm weird, I know this. 

Some things going on:
Aria and her dad are moving to Kansas City in the next few weeks. I have known that they were going to move there eventually, but I did not know it would be this soon. He really wants us to move there too, so I am torn over moving to be closer to my daughter or staying here and being close to the rest of my family. If I move there I will be separated by everyone and everything I know, but I will be able to see my daughter. Life's choices are NEVER easy. It builds character right? Remember the poster with the kitten barely gripping the tree branch with the words "Hang In There" at the top? Yep. I need some of those cheesy motivational posters around me. 

I have not posted on social media about the move because I wanted to tell my family about it in person, I don't think Facebook is where someone should read about that. And, because it involves my daughter, and because I don't want to risk someone in his circle taking what ever I say and twisting my words. 

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow and Next Week walk into a bar . . .

Yesterday told me that I could have done better. Her visits always seem to go by so fast. It seems like she was just here and now she's gone. She'll be back.

Today is in my living room, sitting up straight, watching me to see what I'll do next. She's tall, patient, simple, but satisfactory. She's calm and has an air of meaningfulness and wisdom. I should work on paying better attention to what she says.

Tomorrow is knocking on my front door, excited to show me what she's brought. She always rushed my visits with Today. I welcome her visits, but it seems there's never enough time for Today. Just give me one more hour, I'm not done with her yet. Tomorrow is giddy and impatient. She thinks she's better than Today, I know she does. 

Next Week is calling me long distance. I'm not sure what she's like yet, I haven't met her. I think she'll be kind. I'll be optimistic this time. She tells me that she'll be here soon, probably sooner than I think.

I have treated them badly. I have shunned their persistence. I have pushed them all away, told them flat out that I did not care to see them anymore. And yet the continue to visit. Perhaps they see something in me that I don't. 

At times each one has been very unkind. But on others they're nothing less than sweet and full of life. 

Though our relationships have been at times strained, each has taught me something and helped to form who I am now, who ever that is. Maybe I'll meet her next. 

The passion of fear

Franklin D. Roosevelt once said "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself -- nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance."

Fear is a natural part of life. It keeps us alive. Without fear we wouldn't wear seat belts or life jackets and a lot of knife-throwing circus sideshow acts would have to find new professions.

But fear is too often paralyzing, debilitating. It takes more than it gives. Fear convinces you you're not good enough, that you shouldn't even try. People who achieve their goals have somehow learned to silence this fear, or at least calm it enough to be manageable.

Fear has taken too much from me. 

I need to take it back. 

I want to learn Spanish and I want to learn how to play guitar (I'm working on both, by the way). I want to write a book (I've been doing research and writing a rough draft). I want to know who I am (I've traced my family history all the way back to the Mayflower). 

As challenging as those things are, the things I struggle with the most are not seen and are rarely spoken of. We shouldn't fear fear, but what if you fear yourself? There's a movie plot for ya. 

It's 10:51 on a Friday night. I'm pleasantly sober and clear. I enjoy these fleeting moments of clarity. Having open eyes does not necessarily mean that you truly, really see.

I'm more than what I allow myself to be. It's there. It's what's kept me going. Passion is more powerful than fear.

The Art of Childhood

Back at the beginning of the school year, a flyer came home with parents asking for anybody and everybody to volunteer to teach an art lesson to the class once a month. 

As I was dropping Devin off at school the next day I stopped and chatted with his teacher about the art lessons — what a great idea it is to have art offered to the kids, especially at such a young age, how important it is for their developing minds to be creative, etcetera and so forth. 

His teacher approached me a few weeks later and told me, in a  bit of a panic, that no one had volunteered. She went on to say that if there are no volunteers there would be no art lessons for the kids. And, since I was the only parent who had expressed any interest in it, would I please, please volunteer to teach art. 

Well, yes, of course! Children going without art in their lives breaks my heart. 

I am not one for getting up and speaking in public, even in front of kids, but I remember my mom coming to volunteer in my classes while I was in elementary school. I remember that it meant a lot to me. And, I had volunteered in Aria's kindergarten class too, helping kids learn how to read and count. I certainly want to carry on that tradition with Devin.