Letting go

Dreaming…

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Wow, what a busy day. Most of the work is done, now I just need to pack my bags. I got in a 12 mile run. You are probably just sitting on the edge of your seat wondering if I am one of those people that work out while I am traveling for business or on vacation. The answer is no, I don’t. Last time I didn’t even pack my athletic shoes, which was stupid because I ended up walking a lot in sandals. Seems like every time I travel now I have been know to add and check stuff off my bucket list. I am excited that I decided to meet up with an old friend that moved to Texas. She has horses. I never rode a horse. I am not the kind of person that says I know I haven’t seen you in almost 2 decades but can I ride your horse. So I am leaving my options open. Maybe it will be uneventful, but it never seems to go that way for me. 

The last couple of days have been stressful, okay the last couple of weeks. I have been flailing around trying to keep my head above water when yesterday a weed wrapped itself around my foot. I went to the pharmacy and my insurance refused to refill my antacid prescription. I was so upset that I started shaking and my stomach burned. “You’ve gotta be kidding me?!?” I pictured myself for a minute at a conference in a room full of people in a fetal position on the floor while vomiting. A little bit of steam escaped sssssssssssshhhhhhhhhit. Then I realized that I can buy it OTC for 10 times the cost. Yippee! After this, Paul and I were invited to lunch with an eccentric elderly couple that we befriended. I was so upset that I didn’t want to go, but when I got there I felt totally at peace. They are a very loving couple with a clean and nicely decorated old house. We ate lunch outside on their patio underneath the grape vines. Paul is going to harvest the grapes and make wine out of them. 

During lunch I mentioned my desire to learn how to shoot a gun. Even though our hostess is in her 80’s she is not a stereotypical woman of her age. She likes to hunt and fish. She showed me her study full of furs she sewed together and spoke of a woman’s survival class where she even learned how to dog sled. She told me that I was the perfect age to start new things. She also mentioned that I should think about joining an elite choir that she is in. I am thinking about doing that with my daughter. We both have a 3 octave range. My daughter is going off to college next year for music. I would love to do something with her before she leaves.  Besides singing in a few weddings, funerals, singing a bit in church, and being involved in community theatre I have not used this gift as much as I would have liked. She also inspired me to do other non traditional things like fix up an old car. 

I have wanted to fix up one of those old hippie vans, I am picturing a robin egg blue VW. It would be awesome taking that on Route 66 tour in vintage clothing. I have auto mechanics in my blood, but being a girl no one ever taught me. Girls didn’t belong in the garage. I love the smell of gasoline and tires, the comforting scents I associated with my family’s garage. My great grandparents started the business and passed it down to their kids. Out of those kids, my dad was the only offspring. He didn’t want to fix cars. He wanted to fix electronics. I want to fix cars, but never learned how. Last week when cleaning out my grandma’s house I found a book on how to fix antique cars. I had to chuckle because the book was older than me. My mom said that I could always take her old MG and fix it up. Maybe that would be a good project to do with my son. This seems like a couch potato to marathon goal for me, but the possibilities are endless. 

My parents sold my grandma’s house today. It makes me so sad to let go of that part of my life forever. It could be worse. I watched my mother’s childhood house burn down when I was 5. A gas station now stands where my husband’s childhood house was. His bedroom was pump number 9. At least a new loving family will have a chance to make memories in grandma’s house. 

I am going to try to relax. It will be nice to learn new things at the conference and visits friends. I am hoping to enjoy some time by the pool as it seems like fall in Texas is warmer than our summers are here. Then come home, do an 18 mile run, plus 18 loads of laundry, and head out for my brother’s wedding. I am excited about the adventures that await. 

Up north, part 5

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Well this is it. Summer is unofficially over tonight. The deceptively warm weather this past week and weekend tricked my mind into believing that it was just beginning as we took out the dock and shut the cabin down for the season. But the leaves are changing color ever so slightly like the season of my life that I am entering now. Cooler temps will enter the scene tomorrow as if Mother Nature did get the memo after all. Saying good bye to summer is like losing a best friend which incidentally happened this summer as well. 

Since we last spoke, my husband came back from his week long sailing trip. Then guess what we did on Saturday? That’s right, I had him take me sailing to a beach that we haven’t been to all summer. There were lots of boats littering the beach, but ours was the only sailboat. This always attracts attention. Three bikini clad women just had to take a tour. Paul helped the ladies on board telling them that they could grab ahold of anything they needed for support. I was thinking, not everything ladies, not everything. But it didn’t come down to that. Lol. We came back as the sun was setting, eating sushi. Man, sometimes a sailor can make a woman feel so classy. Then we got home and I proceeded to fall asleep on the couch. Scratch that comment I made earlier about runners being up for anything on a Saturday night. Ah, maybe next weekend…

Then there was the matter of a slight domestic dispute between my teenagers on the way to church. And I thought things were going well when my son was ready to leave for church early. Almost made me proud until my daughter got into the shower 10 minutes before it was time to leave disrupting the natural ebb and flow of the morning tide. This resulted in a big fight of hurricane force that had me pulled over to the side of the road barricading myself from hair brushes and 4 letter words. My daughter screaming at my son for taking the first shower when he knows that she has long hair that needs time to dry. In a thundering crescendo, she pulled my son’s short hair. The waves of emotion growing higher threatened destruction. He grabbed her hairbrush, broke it in half, and flung it at her hitting her in the mouth. She’s crying, splattering large tears, saying that he broke her tooth. Just a slight bloody lip inflicted from the roaring wind of her tempest mouth. We live close to the church so we had to hurry up and put on our happy family forced summer sunshine all kitties and puppies smile. Nice how are you’s answered with a seething angry happy good everything is fine plastic fake smile. 

It was then that I thought for that brief moment that my mother-in-law was right. The previous weekend she dropped off my son after spending the weekend there and told me that my kids were brats and he was not welcome at her house ever again. She locked him at her house without Internet and friends, more than I ever get. I got the biggest hug and I love you mom after that. Wonderful. Then my mother-in-law proceeded in telling me that her best friend’s grandchildren were perfect, not like my bratty kids. I said, “Well how nice for her”. I would be upset with my son, but this happens almost every time we see her so I just shrugged it off. Then she criticized what I was making for supper and got in a fight with her husband. I kept telling myself that she could have aborted her unwanted child, my husband. It is in these moments that I remember that if my husband had an easy childhood, I probably wouldn’t appreciate how far he has come as a husband and father without having a father himself. Or how hard he has worked starting a business and getting a Master’s degree when his only parent dropped out of high school. We can all have a better life beyond the limitations of childhood. 

Oh life, someday I’ll laugh over all of this. 

A game of cat and bird

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image

I admit, this picture is not award winning. But it is one in a million. How often are you in the kitchen with your cat when a bird decides to peek in? Plus have the opportunity to take a picture before the moment passes. I have always been a bird magnet which causes conflicting polarity since cats have always been drawn to me as well. Or perhaps the bird was looking in hopes to find our neighbor that moved away. His massive gardens and bird feeders long gone.

A few days later, I was sitting on my deck listening to the old Pink Floyd song Cirrus Minor. The song begins with the melodic singing of birds. My new friend came over by me again. I think he must be lonely. I would recommend other Pink Floyd songs to him if he could get past The Wall, that is. He may relate to the raw feelings of loneliness in The Final Cut. Or like the sounds of clocks and bells, even the little sounds of bicycle bells that may honk at him. He may also like the sounds of other animals such as pigs, sheep, dogs, insects, or cows in other songs. Or the lonely seagulls cry in Set Controls for the Heart of the Sun. He may think some of the old songs are just too creepy. Some are, but if you dig far enough into the “Relics” there are a few hidden gems like Cymbaline, Julia Dream, and See Saw. Or “our song” which has always been Fat Old Sun, not Fat Old Son as my husband jokes. 

I have seen evidence of you, little bird, when I was gone. Little streaks of bird poop on my clothes drying on the line. I didn’t appreciate this, but I know I have to take the good with the bad. You do tolerate my cat. I might miss you when you decide to fly away. Some day I too will be alone when my little birds decide to leave the nest. 

A letter written to my only son

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Next week my son will be starting high school for the first time. As part of the orientation tonight, parents are strongly encouraged to write a letter to their child to read upon graduation. I wanted to share my letter with you:

To my only son as you graduate, 

I remember the day you were born. Your little cowlicks promised wild curls that would be untamable. You were a mama’s boy, I thought for awhile that you would never grow up, never want to leave. We would sit for hours reading stories of monkeys stealing caps, the adventures of toad and frog, or about the puddle ducks and Peter Rabbit. Then one day we put the kids books away. 

Remember when you used to suck your fingers? We tried everything to get you to stop. We tried putting a mitten on your hand at night and the spicy varnish which you exclaimed to like spicy foods. Then one day, you decided that you were too old to suck your fingers and stopped on your own. 

Then you got older still. You told your dad and I that you no longer believe the things that we believe. You said you needed to figure things out on your own. Even though we worried, we knew that you needed to find your own way in life. I sometimes fear that the road you walk will be rocky, but sometimes even the “Rocky Road” can be sweet. Once you find your place, I know that you will stand up for what you believe even if you are standing alone. That stubbornness and conviction is something I’ve always admired in you. 

Earlier this week, you told me that you really didn’t want to be with me anymore, that you wanted to hang out with your friends. For a minute, I wanted that little boy back. As much as I want to hold you tight, I know that I have to start untying the strings that have you fastened to my heart. I have to start letting you go. I hope and pray that you find the right path to start your journey on. No matter what happens, your dad and I will always love you. 

Love, Mom