Drips & Spatters

Spin Cycle

(2 rights don’t make a wrong)

Fathers and sons
Caught up in a spin cycle
Heavy loads with
Temperatures rising
Debating euphemisms
And imagined truths
Ideologies
In a whirlpool
spun out and
Hung out to dry
In a world pool.
No fluff.

Ancestors agitated
Visionaries aggravated
Fruit-of-their-loins
Clotheslined by
Societal “norms”
So oxy clean
They’re oxymorons.
More on principle
More fodder for the principal.
Old school
New school
Home schooled
School of hard knocks.
No time for recess.

Cool down
Tumble
Tumble
Low heat
But never quite dry
Never really clean
Slowly revolving
Quickly evolving

Wash.
Rinse.
Repeat.

 

March Madness

Every year during the month of March I celebrate my birthday with some whimsical make believe adventure. Last year I “cruised” around the world sailing to various countries on multiple continents (a virtual bucket list of vacations) and posted gorgeous pics that I borrowed from the internet. The year before was filled with very colorful hot air balloons in all shapes and sizes and colors, photographed during spectacular sunsets, beautiful sun rises, rainbow colored skies, and over breathtaking landscapes.

I like to refer to this year’s fun as the celebrity edition (My brother said I had too much time on my hands, :-p) So for every day in March this year, I chose a celebrity whose birthday was that day and inserted myself into photos with them. Each with a caption that identified them via song lyrics, movie titles, or quotes and together we sent out birthday wishes to all of my friends.

This little exercise was particularly therapeutic for me as I had been experiencing a mental block with creating my own original art and this proved to be cathartic while providing me a creative outlet needed to maintain a daily routine – and my sanity. For everyone that played along thank you. I hope to be back to creating new original works real soon.

 

Transitioning

Here it is the beginning of another year and I am still reeling from the last.

It’s been almost two years since I last posted and another 1-2 years before then.  And the trend it seems from my last 4 posts, is that I only put pen to paper when I’ve lost someone special – someone who has had profound effect on my life. Kinda morbid I think sometimes. Perhaps it is the only way I know to grieve. So, yep you guessed it.

2017 laid to rest my mother-in-law in March. She was very dear to me and had been for 38 years. We shared many laughs and secrets and just good times. And her youngest man-child who, without her influence, would not be in my life right now – and what a real tragedy that would be.  So now both my mommas are gone but life goes on, except when it doesn’t.

2017 also put to sleep an uncle who was so much more like another one of my big brothers for my entire life. He and I were closer in age than he was to his actual sister, my mother. I know that my mom was his confidant and best friend and I knew when she died that I would step up in a feeble attempt to fill her shoes. But when he called me to say he was going into hospice my already fractured heart broke into so many more pieces. I left home and husband to be by his side for his last 2 months and held his hand when he took his last breath.

He told me not to be sad. He’d say, “Now, don’t you start crying” (excuse me now while I wipe my tears), and I’d tell him that everything was going to be all right. And life goes on, except when it doesn’t.

Every day I try to get better at this thing called life. It’s a real struggle sometimes. I’ve set some goals, anxious to make some changes, ready to move on. I promise to be more in the present and even if I have to write yet another obituary this year I’ll try not to bombard you with my wailing.

I hope you follow me into the new year and help me build what I hope to be the best me in a very long time.

And life goes on, until it doesn’t.

Ride or Die

Many of you know that in the last couple of years I lost my two best friends – the best of the best. These were the friends I’ve known since 3rd grade, which translates into 47-49 years. More than friends, they were my closest sisters.

Joni and Velda were an intimate part of all of my childhood secrets, my teenage blunders, my twenties relationships, my marriages, my children, my jobs. For a long time I could imagine us as “old” friends still hanging out in our 70’s and 80’s. Still enjoying each others company, still causing havoc, still laughing, still there to answer the phone at 3 am, to open the door in the middle of the night, to offer a hand, a shoulder, a dollar. And even though they have both gone on, I still imagine.

I hope it’s understandable that for more than a moment I felt really alone after Velda passed. When Joni died, as much as it broke my heart, I still had Velda. And when I thought I couldn’t hurt any more, my mom died, but I still had Velda. But when Velda died…

Jokingly (not really), I told my husband that he would have to step up and be my new best girlfriend. To his credit, he is seriously trying to fill that void and I love him for that. Recently though, I had a revelation. It wasn’t a surprise to me really, just a realization about something I had not looked at in this way before.

I had the pleasure of visiting with some other friends not long ago. Some old friends actually. These are friends that I don’t see often or talk to on a regular like I did with Joni and Velda. But when we got together it was familiar, fun, and special. And I was reminded that these friends watched my children grow up and I theirs. Somehow, it just occurred to me that Angie has been my friend for close to 30 years, and Lori has logged 23, Verona 15, Dietra about 20. There’s Brenda and Rita for at least 36 years and Michelle too, who has been there from the very beginning. I am so blessed to have so many more people who have lasted through the decades. I hope I am as good a friend to them as they are to me.

One thing I know for sure is that my old secrets are forever safe with Joni and Velda. Still, I wish we had more time to ride.