Rock the shoes Drea

And weeks have passed and life moves forward….I’ve lost myself. My cup is empty right now. No color graces my hair, my nails, or my lips. I ask myself “where have you gone?” And maybe “who are you now?” 

I think that many times when life keeps handing us situations, good or bad, it can be overwhelming.

The hard fucking truth is that my childhood friend is dying and I cant ease that in any way. Not for her or her children. If she could I wonder what she would tell me that she wished she would have done on this 50 something year journey. It makes other things so trivial. 

I am angry and sad and indifferent. So many and so little emotions all at once. Sleep comes and goes and comes and goes. Maybe her disease has triggered something that has been lying under the surface all along. I am too fucking nice….I have never had it in me to just say what’s on my mind. I just let shit slide….and I am tired. 

I lay out the olive green sweater and matching shoes for tomorrow. I think I will feel better if I feel like me for a little while. Pink toenails with pink rhinestones peak out from the toe of the shoes I love. Maybe I will wear black…

She would say “Rock the shoes Drea” and put color on your lips. She would tell me like she did not so long ago to be the woman she admires. To be the fire and be happy.

And I feel a deep sadness…. I know mentally I am not healthy right now and my spirituality is suffering and I know my creative fire needs to be stoked and I know I am sad and should be happy about a lot of things. 

And so like sleep, the night comes and goes…and goes.

For her children

These are my childhood memories of your Mother….

I met your Mom in middle school, she was my first friend at a new school. I remember sitting down in Mr. Northwood’s homeroom class and she wouldnt stop talking to me. She kept asking me questions and I didnt want to turn around. Everyone knew each other and I was new. I wanted to stick to myself. Well, she was relentless. We ended up on the same bus home, with different stop, but within walking distance from each other.

She love Prince and because of her I know more songs than most people think. She forced me to watch Purple Rain like eight thousand times…not really…but maybe close to a hundred over the course of our friendship. She covered her tiny room with every poster she could fit on the wall. She loved hats and eyeliner and crazy hair like his. She danced and sang every song there was. Some days I thought I would lose my mind if I had to hear one more thing or song from him. And I know there were occasions where her nails were purple and so was her eye shadow. She cried and cried when he died.

She also love Michael Jackson and a boy name Tony from high school sang like him. I think she talked to him for hours just so he would sing for her.

We danced to all the good 80’s music in the living room at the home at the end of the dirt road. Her house was the last one on the road and could be scary at night.

We talked about ghosts and scary stuff.

About a frog in the window which is a joke only we will ever understand.

She would wash green grapes, roll them in sugar and freeze them. They were so good in the summer. We made a lot, A LOT, of macaroni and cheese. And she cooked everything with butter.

She ate instant coffee on occasion, along with a spoon full of creamer and sugar. We were 13 and you do dumb things at 13.

She convinced a group of girls to sleep in the desert in the back of the valley. So in the early evening a bunch of us hauled our stuff out there and spent the night. We walked half way to the front of the valley, we thought we were going to the store and decided half way there to turn around.

She had a donkey named Jessica. We would walk her on a lead and put big clown sunglasses on her. And Bobo and Swanie, pigmy goats. They were so much fun.

She would put curlers in her and when we met at the bus stop she would say that she looked like a poodle.

We smoked cigarettes and drank together, talked on the phone for hours, listened to music and sometimes we would draw.

We went to the Reno Rodeo with her step-dad who was a horse shoer. We stayed all day.

We played in the desert and she would pick things up….snakes and horny toads…she wasnt afraid of anything.

She texted me old pictures of us a couple years ago..I didnt even know she had them. Those were good times.

She made me crazy and I am sure I repaid her. She is fun and funny…I got her on levels where others didnt.

The way she squinted her eyes…she always needed glasses.

Or touched her tongue to her nose…

When we were baptized at 14 in the little Baptist church in the Valley.

And I know that she loves you…more than you can even imagine. She told me how wonderful you are, who looks like her, who acts like her….this makes me laugh and she laughed too. How smart you guys are and how good. How proud she is. She even gave you credit for pulling stuff on her she never would have thought of when we were kids.

The last few days I have listened to the Prince station at work…a song will come on and I will drift to a time and place that I shared with her. I love your Mom, in all her craziness and chaos, it makes her who she is.

I just wanted you to know things about your Mom that we shared throughout the last 36 years.

Human Touch

I woke to the alarm at 4:30 this morning and didnt want it to be Monday yet. As I got ready for work I thought a lot about a friend of mine who is not well. I have know her since I was 13. She was my first friend in the new middle school I was going to and although there have been times where we werent in touch and a few times we didnt speak, we found our way back to each other time and time again.

This morning my mind went to the thought of human touch. I think, sometimes, we take it for granted like so many other things in life. I thought of my Mom and how she took care of my Grandpa later in life. How she rubbed his weathered hands with lotion, or his feet and put socks on him. How she combed his hair and washed his face. How I sat at the kitchen table and told him I loved him…and held his hand.

And my thoughts drifted…to my friend.

I hope they comb her hair and hold her hand. I hope they tell her funny stories and happy memories of things they shared. I hope they put lotion on her hands or paint her nails. Its the small things in these hours that are so important. I hope she has fuzzy socks and pictures she loves. I hope she knows how much we love her.

I hope they hug her and hug her and hug her. I hope they crawl in her bed and sing her songs she sang with them and I hope they kiss her cheek.

But most of all I hope someone touches her hand and heart every single day….

For you Alyse….

Sorting through my emails just now, I came across the last two and the the prompt sisterhood caught me right away. This is the second time today this word has found its way to me… Its been too long since I have been able to spend time with you writing….so this prompts for you.

Sisterhood

The ease of the chair, the music filtering through the air. Sisterhood, my friends, my sisters by marriage, but oh..my…sister. Her name is Cindy and I have had her in my life for the last 7 years. I flip through the images in my mind. The time she came to visit and we had our pictures taken. I look at her and look for me. In the beginning we shared all of our “me too’s”, likes and loves, gains and loses. We are so similar and very different. She is one of my biggest cheerleaders and my confidant. She is 21 years older than me, but the years fall away between us. We missed so much and gained so much when we connected. She is beautiful and kind, she loves people and people love her. My sister ❤

Sisterhood

Alyse, she is my sister too. She pulled me through the self conscious door when it came to my writing. She watched and allowed me to feel my way through the process of shutting down my inner critic who was concerned with what others thought about my wiring. I admire her, her gifts and her friendship. She is one of many. The Sisterhood, the intuits, the executives, the homegirls, the chicks I love. The Green is for you One. The Rain washes away the unnecessary one, the strawberry shortcake one, the lick your face one. The Pittsburgh one. The artist. The writer. The supportive. The blonde one. The three of them. The German and the French ones. I honor all of my sisters. They all bring something very unique to the table and always a lot of love.

So this prompt is for you Alyse….I miss prompts with you.


Broken people….

We talk about people who hurt people, sometimes…

I have been thinking a lot about broken people today. Left unhealed or unwilling to do self-work and practice self love, they continue to break others. I know many women and men who have been broken and have given up on the thought of finding someone they can love and will love them in return.

Before I really got to know my life partner, a young woman I know spoke powerful words to me. She said “you will meet someone someday who wont need you to fix them and they wont want to fix you”. Our conversation continued about fixing other people and about the broken continuing to break people. I often think about the men and women who treat each other poorly and my first thought is….”how would you feel if this was done to your child, family member or friend?”. So the partner cheats, would you want your son or daughter to experience the heartache of someone she loves treating him or her this way?

There are so many broken people in this world and they continue to break the innocent because in some warped sense they justify their actions. I have said it before and it just came to mind again, “If you wouldn’t like it or want it done to you, DON’T DO IT!”.

Acceptance….Risk….Happiness

Acceptance…….In order to accept others I think we need to truly accept ourselves, all of our darkness and all of our light. We need to look back at the past and take the lessons that have been presented and move forward with that knowledge. Every obstacle and triumph will teach you something if you are willing to look. Someone will treat you like you are irrelevant and unloved only to show you what you really deserve, someone will treat you like you are not intelligent because they are intimidated by your knowledge. Someone may hold you down until you have no choice but to come up for air, fighting for yourself. We are all human and all worthy of valuable, healthy relationships with people who appreciate us.

Risk….Without risk there will be no reward. Even though you have been hurt, betrayed or broken, however you want to define it, you must find the strength to move beyond it. Self-care. There was a time I painted, or created in some way, my steadfast method of self-care takes the form of writing. It always has and will always be where I find the medicine of life that heals me. Replenishes the layers that have been peeled away. There was a time I sat for hours tying Mala’s (prayer beads). Seems interesting now to realize I was healing while tying prayer beads, but for a time thats where I found peace. I think we need to find an outlet and in it we will find the inner peace that was interrupted by circumstances within and beyond our control. Once I felt like I had time to process and decompress from life’s little messes I was able to consider risking again. I made new friends, after losing trust in old ones, I dated again…after, well, just after. That was risk-taking again to me. Finding strength to trust others in the aftermath of so much pain.

Happiness……Finally. I have been presented with a tremendous amount of happiness. For the first time I really feel like I am living the life I deserve. I never really felt like I deserved good things, I am not sure why. I just felt like I didn’t. I have a lot of good now….just incredibly good. All the bad situations laid ground work and taught me important lessons. I really appreciate the sweetness of life. Unhealed people taught me how they can and will break you, because that is all they know. I think these lessons, however painful, are important. I have learned how to let go, how to risk, and how to trust again. I know how to love and I now know what it feels like to be loved for who I am.

Someday, if you experience broken people, you need to find the strength to try again after you have taken care of yourself. Meet your needs, put yourself first, discover who you are, and find inner peace. You will find them, your people, the ones who know what it feels like to be broken and who would never inflict the pain they have felt on another. You will find people who you can trust, who you can love and love in return, who wont hurt you. And most importantly, wont bleed on you.

Peace in your Saturday evening…..

Someone once asked….

And someone once asked her what she wanted…

She wanted to sit in a coffee shop on a rainy afternoon and work on the book that she had written a million times in her mind. She wanted to feed her soul with the things she felt most connected to. Words.

Her friends painted and wrote, weaved and crafted treasures for little shops and big. They took pictures of objects and people who fed their souls. They healed their wounds by creating beautiful pieces and places in this life. They left their mark. Yes, she wanted to leave a mark in this life that had meaning.

What did she want? Peace, calm…steady, easy rhythm to life. Not a roller coaster and of ifs and maybes. She wanted certainty. She wanted rain, coffee shops and bookstores. Tea and rosemary, lavender and honey…random simplicities. Big coffee mugs and good people. She wants to listen and be heard, to lift people up and kneel down with…laugh, cry and live life with.

She learned about crows and eagles alone on a desolate road at 12:40 am on a Wednesday morning. She knew about darkness and diving into the depths of it and resurfacing with some clarity. She knew about sleeping and rising alone, and feeling connected and disconnected from life and people.

But it wasnt about what she knew, it was about what she wanted.

Love and happiness……pens and paper….paint and canvas.

Life.

Today she wanted life more than yesterday.

And I miss you

Settled in for the night…

Long day, long few days. My mind drifts to you, and I miss you. Your words,  wisdom and synchronistic poems that had more meaning for our lives than others could understand. Pulling cards and writing our hearts out, laughter and tears and vulnerability….but wait..safety and comfort too. And I miss you ❤

I have hardly written at all…too much to say and overwhelmed with thoughts. I applied for jobs and caught up on emails and so here I am, settled in with my girl and our animals. There was popcorn and coconut oil in the pantry and truffle salt in the cabinet. So I made popcorn like you make and we are here and you are there and I miss writing with you more than you know.  An almost finished letter sits on my desk…so maybe tomorrow….

Here is to writing and women….and circles

New beginnings and scary endings

And true friendships and rain

And now

 

Peace in your life and for your Thursday

The Road Home

For my friend C. Lennon, thank you for the picture. Sisters, drawn by time, destined by fate and lucky enough to find each other again.

He stands at the end of the road with his hands tucked into his weathered jeans. His icy blue eyes represent all the comfort and love she has ever needed. The smile that stretches across his lips welcomes her home. Beckons of his undying love for her.

He is her destiny, they are fated. She is capable of loving and giving to him like no other. She breathes him and he basks in the beauty of all that she is. The way her hair falls on her shoulders and the scent of her perfume weaken his tough exterior.

He stands and waits as she reaches for him. She is safe and content, she is home.

Coffee with you this morning

I sat across from her listening to her reveal the layers of her life while we sipped coffee this morning. Warm, comforting goodness in a rather large cup and the security of knowing her secrets were safe with me (and yes, she knows I am writing this).

We discussed why things happen the way they do and why life can’t be a little more gentle. I told her maybe if we were more gentle with ourselves the Universe would return it to us.

You see, she has been in a situation that is not healthy for her mind, body and soul..and hardest on her heart. I told her you cannot expect someone to treat you as you treat them. It doesn’t always work out that way. Show up, be authentic and hope that you are interacting with a decent human being.

She told me that the relationship she has been in is one-sided for, well, for a very long time. I am sad for her. She deserves so much better. The people who this other person chooses to look at or pay attention to are so different from her and would never treat her counterpart as well as she does.

Her eyes fell to her hands wrapped around her cup and tears silently ran down her cheeks.

I wonder how people can treat people so poorly and not even think twice about it. How they can justify their actions in their mind as okay? If she isn’t what you want, set her free. She deserves kindness, love, friendship and most of all respect and loyalty.

She deserves what she gives to you.

She is well put together, takes care of her self and her responsibilities and there she is trying to save remnants of something…something….I can’t even classify what she is trying to save. Her heart? Her sanity? They have destroyed her….weakened her. She allowed it. She is partially to blame, but so are they. It’s amazing to me that some people can’t take responsibility for their actions that caused cracks in the foundation of a relationship. Its easier to lay blame on the innocent and make them feel like it was their fault that they stayed, tried and tolerated bullshit that they shouldn’t have. Wouldn’t you want someone to give you a second chance if you messed up? And when she did it was met with more secrets and betrayal.

I get her Kleenex and hug her. She cries and we sit in silence for a while. I shift the conversation to some small vacations I want to take this year…she has some interest. She thinks about going to see family or friends in California for a few days. There are things to see in life and good people still exist out there. Life will move forward and time will ease the emotions she feels.

She asks why? I have no logical answer why she lets this happen. There are people who remind her of who she is, where she has been and what she is worth. I know there are people who would love her wholly in a moment if she allowed them. And while I understand they are not for her, I just try to comfort her by telling her there is someone who would appreciate the woman she is.

So here is to the security of good friends, warm cups of coffee, the things in life that pull us to together because of whats torn us apart.

It’s a new day…..

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