For you, my friend

Someone to crowd you with love,
Someone to force you to care,                                   
Someone to make you come through,
Who'll always be there,
As frightened as you
Of being alive,
Being alive,
Being alive,
Being alive.
                   
That's you, my friend. You're always with me. You're in my head, even when I wish you weren't. You know me so well, and yet, you still like me. Love me. 

Someone you have to let in,
Someone whose feelings you spare,
Someone who, like it or not,
Will want you to share 
A little, a lot.

I've got to believe that friendship like ours is rare. It's too precious to be common. I can't explain why we have always had this connection. It's visceral, palpable, essential. It lives and breathes. 

Somebody, need me too much,
Somebody, know me too well,
Somebody, pull me up short
And put me through hell
And give me support
For being alive,
Make me alive.
from Company, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim
 
Over miles, over years, in our dreams and in our waking. You're there. You make me want to be alive. You keep me alive. Thank you for making me one lucky chick.

 

Marching On

Forgive the title pun--yes, it's already March, and I've been absent for awhile. 
Life has offered a variety of positive and negative experiences in the past 2 months, and I'm grateful for all of them. No matter how much I whine, I know I'm still one lucky chick. I still get to wake up every day. I still get to laugh and cry every day. I still get to feel overwhelmed and satisfied. I am still here. I am lucky.

Thanks for the thoughts, hugs, messages, smiles you've sent my way. I'm lucky to know you. I am marching forward, held up by supportive friends, loving family, and the knowledge that I am one lucky chick.  

GREAT

Great. I missed a second post in September. Great. I missed an early post in October. Great.
While I'm working hard to retrain myself, to foster and maintain better habits, I still mess things up regularly. I am definitely a work in progress.

In late September, I was assigned the task of listing things I am GREAT at. *Brief interjection: If you are bothered by dangling participles and poor grammar, read no further. This post is rife with both. You have been warned.* Have you ever tried to do this? It's humbling, and kinda depressing. Because it was very easy to list things I am GOOD at. I am self-aware enough and confident enough to say, "Yes, I'm a good cook," or "Yes, I'm a Trivial Pursuit player." 

So I took it to the next level. Things I am BETTER-THAN-AVERAGE at. Hmmm. Okay, I play piano better than the average person. I have better-than-average classroom management skills. I am blushing as I write this next one, but...I think I'm better-than-the-average mom. I can only say that because my girls are grown women who haven't become serial killers or Republicans (yet). 

Now on to the GREAT list. *pause* Ok.*crickets chirping* Yeah. This is tough. On the surface, it seems easy. I'm a great friend. I'm a great daughter. But, no, those statements aren't true. I think (ok, I KNOW) I'm a good friend. A really good friend. But GREAT? No. Because I still won't go see every show that my friends are in. Because I still won't call friends on a regular basis, just to chat.  A great daughter? Nnnnnnoooooooo. I call my dad frequently, but many times it's due to guilt, not due to an overwhelming desire to talk to him. I still complain almost daily about having to put up with his racist rants, but I don't have the guts to confront him about them. I still harbor loads of resentment and anger toward him for events that occurred DECADES ago. Do I love him? Yes, without question. Am I a GREAT daughter? Not a chance.

My list of GREATNESS comes from a negative place. I am a GREAT complainer. I am a GREAT passive/aggressive manipulator. I am a GREAT nag. See what I mean? The reason I was asked to create my list of greatness was to bolster my often-flagging self esteem. Oops. Sort of backfired on me. But, you know what? That's okay. I appreciate the fact that I made these discoveries. Or rather, that this task caused me to FACE these characteristics. Of course I've always known they were there. But looking this closely at my NON-greatness will help me grow, too. So, maybe that's my starting point. I'm GREAT at listing my flaws. And I'm GREAT-ful (see what I did there?) for the task of looking deeper.

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Mile 57

I'm not a runner. But if I was, I think I'd like to be a long distance marathoner. I like the idea of being fast, so short sprints sound appealing, but overall, I think the satisfaction of sticking with something for the long haul sounds like my cup of tea. 

What I'm hoping is to be here for the long haul. I'm of the age where some of my friends are checking out. Not in large numbers, but enough to notice a trend. It's cliche, I know, but it makes you take a look at what's important. And, to me, for now, what's important is the road ahead. I want it to be long and varied. I want it to be picturesque. I want it to be filled with emotion, strong emotion. I want it to be surprising. I want to share it with my girls. I want to share it with my friends. 

I want it to be long. Of course, I'm also picky. I want to be in good health--strong, independent--so that I can enjoy every minute of the marathon. I don't ever want to be a burden. I don't want to make someone else sacrifice just so I can continue the race. 

I just want to be here for a long while. I'd like to maybe stick around for as many years as I've already been here. Maybe during those years, I'll figure out how to fix the things I've wrecked, and how to use the time I have to the fullest, to make the world better. 
While looking ahead to the road stretching out in front of me, I want to be mindful of every footfall. I want to feel every pebble under my running shoe, every jolt of my arthritic joints, every sharp pang of air moving in and out of my lungs. 

I hope it's not too much to ask. I'm at the starting line, ready to take that first step. 
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Fa La La La Lovely

Happy Holidays to all! I'll admit, until it snowed Friday night, I was in total Grinch mode. I cannot bring myself to feel merry when it doesn't look and feel like a Currier and Ives photo outside. 
But it snowed just enough to look festive, and now I'm in high Christmas spirits. While it's easy to be overwhelmed by the never-ending to-do lists (can I get an "A-MEN?"), once again the prospect of a house filled with giggles, hugs, and loved ones will carry me through the exhaustion.
Christmas music will blast all day, the vacuum, steam cleaner (NEW! Is it wrong that I'm so excited about this?!?), washing machine, and dishwasher will be a-humming, and by tonight, one of the many lists will be tossed. And Wednesday night, the hugs, kisses, and laughs begin! I am SO blessed.
Ho, ho, ho, and to all, a good night!

Oops, I did it again

Missed last week's self-imposed blog deadline. Apologies. But I forgive myself.
Today, I'm going to thank my colleagues. For always being there. I am not an open person. At least, not in my work life. It takes a lot for me to open up to "work people" about what I do in my real life, away from work. 
Not quite sure where this comes from, but I think it has to do with general paranoia. I live in a town small enough to know someone who knows someone who knows someone I either taught, or currently teach. I've been here long enough to know someone who knows someone who knows someone I taught or teach. And as a teacher, I'm supposed to be an upright citizen. Which I guess I am, mostly.
But I have things I enjoy which might not be considered "upright." At least not by today's right-leaning standards. And at my ripe old age, I've learned that these right-leaning folks can be very vocal (if misinformed). And right now, I need this job. So I don't talk much about my real life to my work friends.


But I also know that I'm missing out on some things because of this. I work with some really WONDERFUL people. Generous. Caring. And each time I'm in need, they reach out and fill the need. Without judgement. Now, my paranoid self thinks, "Probably WITH judgement, but they're kind enough to keep it to themselves." But it doesn't really matter. They are there for me, and I am so grateful. It makes me wonder, if I were only more open about my real life, I might find that they would STILL accept me, accept my left-leaning ways, accept that I'm not as upright as I appear. And they'd still be there.
But I'm not ready to let go of my paranoia. So I keep the wall up. They're still there. They make me feel so good. And I am so grateful for that. Thank you, friends. 

Thank you

New Year's Eve. Another chance to say thank you. Thank you for my girls. Thank you for my family. Thank you for my friends. Thank you for my job. Thank you for a warm house, more than enough food and clothing, an embarrassment of riches.

Thank you for the crisp air. Thank you for the sounds of nature. Thank you for my problems, thank you for my joys.

Happy New Year, everyone.

It's been a long, been a long time

I realize I'm only using this blog to remind myself to be grateful daily, but I apologize for being absent for the entire month of November!! I thought a lot about blogging, but I didn't actually DO it. Bad girl!

Thanksgiving Day has come and gone, but I continue to be thankful every minute of every day. The sounds of my girls laughing after the big dinner stays in my head, making me so grateful for my beautiful family. The sheer abundance of food we have is both embarrassing and humbling. The warmth of the house, the new windows, the wood stoves--I'm lucky to have them all, and I'm grateful.

It didn't snow for my birthday--which is my selfish birthday wish every year-- but I got to spend a good chunk of the day walking through the beautiful grounds where our upcoming family wedding will take place, watching the excitement on the faces of my daughter and her fiancee', and seeing the bond between two sisters grow as we excitedly talked through some plans.

This week, I listened proudly as my youngest daughter described her new job, and as she marveled at her own responsibility, I marveled with her, and was grateful.

I'm alive, I'm healthy, my girls are independent, smart, creative women. I love my life, I love my family and friends. I'm so lucky, so grateful.

Remember

Today, we pause to remember the day our worlds stood still. While much has changed since 2001, some things will never change. Humans can be unfailingly kind and unflinchingly cruel to one another. I am so lucky my life is filled with kindness.

Since I last posted about our family's recent devastating news, I've been overwhelmed with kind words, hugs, gifts of support.

Today, as I send my thoughts to the city I love, I'm filled with gratitude for the loved ones in my life.

Thank you.

Just when you think things are going smoothly, life throws an obstacle in your path. How do you respond? I can tell you that my first response is to curl up in a ball and isolate myself. Is that healthy? I don't know, but it feels necessary.

I received some bad news about someone I love this weekend. I was planning a party at the time. What did I do? I canceled the party and went into a "cave." Maybe that was wrong. I mean, I have wonderful, supportive friends, and I know that spending time with them would have certainly lifted me up.

But I couldn't get past the feeling that I would let them down. I don't think I could have spent time with them without telling them what I was going through, and that would put a damper on the whole day. So I canceled. I'm once again reminded of how lucky I am, though, as all of these friends sent warm, supportive messages of care, and the two of my girls who live nearby came over with food and hugs and laughs. They know me so well. They are the people I would spend every minute of my life with, if life allowed, and they know that. Their presence is my best medicine.

So today I feel better. Not good, but better. Able to probably function a bit. I have to screw up my courage and call the ill loved one, and I know it's going to be a painful conversation. But I'm buoyed by the love of those around me. For this I am so grateful.