A Road Called Memory

I was browsing through some old photos of myself tonight, and it struck me how different life is now.  It’s not my looks that have really changed throughout the years.  I’ve changed my hair color, as women are apt to do, but otherwise a lot is the same – including my weight (thank the Lord for small victories!).  What struck me is how utterly old I feel now.  And, I guess in some ways the mountains I have successfully climbed in life have aged my soul even if they have not aged my body.  I have started to further comprehend the ‘with age comes wisdom’ quote, though at times I would gladly trade back some of the “wisdom” I have learned the hard way through life’s many trials in order to return to the innocent freedom of youth. 

As my mind continually veered back through the years I came to rest on my first crush in junior high.  My 12 year old is going through some similar life events and first ‘loves’ (and I use the term “love” loosely here) that I did at his age.  Seventh grade was such a magical year, when I look back on it now.  Actually being in the seventh grade however was very, very difficult as my body rushed to catch up with the emotional advances that changed and fluctuated daily.  My feelings about Austin, though, never wavered the entire time I was in middle school.  Thinking of it now, I giggle out loud.   Little Austin.  And I do mean little.  I was the shortest girl in my class.  He was shorter than I was.  But boy what he lacked in height he sure made up for in cuteness!  The pure infatuation I had with that boy…I still remember how he used to flip his straight, brown hair and roll his pants legs.  (This was the 90’s, okay?  We ALL used to roll our jeans.  You always had to buy them longer, so you could flip one side over the other and then fold them up twice.  Gave them this nice little skinny leg appeal.  Even the boys did it.)  Although one of the most popular kids in school (if not THE most popular boy), Austin still had this home town charm and offered a politeness to everyone he met – all the way from the future prom queen down to the band geeks.  And yes, I am proud to admit it – in school I fell into the latter category instead of the former. 

How things change as we age!  I came into a beauty all my own the summer between high school and college, and Austin was long since forgotten.  Surprisingly though, the lesson of that first love never did leave.  The innocence of childhood does still remain such a powerful force deep within our hearts.  Sometimes all it needs is a little nudge to come forth into reality.  As I find myself an older woman, single again, I seem to travel back to those gentler days with more and more frequency as I remember the incorruptibility and the longing of things yet to come.  I can still taste the promise of so many open opportunities that were to lie ahead of me, and those past memories are juxtaposed with the harsh reality I have already come to know so closely and deeply.  As I begin to step a toe out into the dating world, testing the water to see if it is in fact warm enough to jump into, I think back to little Austin.  Those magical feelings I would so innocently experience as my heart would skip that beat when he’d walk by in the hall still brings a flutter to my stomach.  And really now is no different than seventh grade; I look forward to the flutter and tickle of things unknown that have yet to pass.

I looked back through those photos yet again, and although my body as well as my mind has certainly aged, I looked close – peered in – and I did see it.  The shimmer and glistening in my eyes of those things hoped for but not yet come to fruition.  I began to rethink the ‘with age comes wisdom’ quote.  Maybe wisdom is nothing more than adding the innocence of childhood to the experience of today – the joining of the optimism from yesterday and the joy of the present together in order to experience a hope for tomorrow.  Who knows, maybe my ‘Austin’ is still out there….

A Day in the Life of a Single Mother

• There will always be Cheerios hidden on the kitchen floor, dirty laundry in the hamper, and toys on the floor.  Always.  No matter how hard I try otherwise.
• I am always late.  No matter how early I wake up.  God has already given St. Peter at the gate notice that when I am called Home, he has time for a coffee break, because I will show up late.
• Silence and quiet are two things never in my house, at least not until both boys leave for college.  I have 17 more years to go, at which time I will probably have forgotten what silence and quiet are like and will go out of my mind attempting to make enough noise on my own to liven the house up a bit.
• A dinner is not always from a recipe, and sometimes not even from the oven.  In fact, suppers from a box or a McDonald’s happy meal does quantify dinner.  Gourmet suppers that take hours to prepare are a thing of the past.
• I never have enough time to get myself ready.  I just count my blessings that I manage to make it out of the house and remember to change from my slippers to actual shoes.  (As a side note, I actually got in the car one time still in my slippers.  Luckily, as I went to shift into reverse, I noticed and sped back in the house to change.)  My son is petrified I will show up at school unknowingly still in my pajamas.  I don’t promise him otherwise, as one day it might just happen.
• My house will never be clean.  Not completely.  Most days I have to dust the dust off of the Pledge before I can begin to clean.
• The days will always run together.  One evening I searched incessantly for a favorite television program.  Only after cursing the network for removing it did I realize that the TV show I was looking for is televised Monday nights.  Today was Friday, not Monday.  Somewhere I lost an entire weekend.
• On any given day, something is always missing, broken, or needing to be purchased. 
• I will always wake up exhausted, no matter how many hours of sleep I get.
• I will always second guess myself insofar as the decisions I make on my own that affect my boys and our future.
• ‘No’ is the most often used word in the English vocabulary, followed by stop and then sit.  At least in my vocabulary.
• Is single motherhood an Olympic sport?  It’s not?  It should be.
• I have resigned myself to never being able to go to the bathroom again in peace, and that I will not get a shower that is over five minutes for many years to come.
• Most men look at my life, smile, and keep going.  That’s okay.  It takes a strong person to wrap their arms around all the blessings I have.  I’m okay with waiting; my boys are too important to simply settle.
• Social life?  I’m sorry, what is that again?
• On any given day, my calendar and to do list have more items on them than the New York Stock exchange. 
• No matter how hard you try to explain it, people just can not visualize the life you lead and why walking around with dried baby milk on your shoulder just really isn’t a big deal, in the grand scheme of things.
• No matter how busy your day is, there is always room to dry tears, help with that really unbearable math problem, and tuck each little angel in at night.
• You will always forget something every time you leave the house.  As long as it’s not the children, it will be okay.
• ‘E’ doesn’t always mean empty on the gas tank.  Sometimes it stands for just ‘Enough’ gas to get the kids to school, drive through the bank to make a transfer, slide into the grocery to get more formula, before gently coasting to rest at the pump – with just enough room to get the nozzle in the tank.
• Although single motherhood was not my choice, I’ve come to embrace all that it offers.  What other life experience can cause you to grow in ways you never imagined and obtain strength when you thought yours was completely depleted?

The Uncommon Bond of Electricity, Coffee, and a Deep Freeze

This is what happens when you are a single mother and your daily things to do far outweigh the hours in the day…..

For several days now I have noticed a strange…..odor, shall we say…..throughout the house.  Having two cats, I made a mental note that I really needed to get upstairs to change their litter and completely clean out the boxes.  When I noticed the smell lingering in my bedroom last night, I began to think it may not be from the cats, but maybe a leftover from our old 18 year old pug who passed a month ago.  In the last weeks of his life he had uncontrollable issues with the eating and bathroom processes so natural to most of us.  Again, I made a mental note to clean my bedroom carpet, as I probably just did not thoroughly clean a prior area due to the overwhelming grief of losing our beloved dog.  I quickly put that painful memory aside and did not think again of the strange smell that seemed to randomly drift through the house.

This morning I was putting wash in the drier, and bent down to pick something off of the floor.  Noticing this ‘odor’ was slightly stronger in the laundry room, it made me pause.  The cat boxes are no where near my laundry room.  My bedroom is on the opposite side of the house.  Neither of my previous deductions would be the solution to the laundry room smell.  Being that the laundry room is more of a rectangle, and the washer and drier are right inside the door, I very rarely veer off to the left to the other side of the room. 

Early this morning making the veer to the left, I noticed the smell was more concentrated near the area by the deep freeze which sits behind the laundry room door.  It took me a moment to process.  I had not even finished one cup of coffee this morning, and was still not fully functioning.  I looked to the outlet – the plug on the deep freeze was dangling.  It took me a moment, but I did put two and two together, and sure enough it equaled four.  For at least a week if not longer, the food in the deep freeze has been left to its own devices.  Not thinking in my half comatose early morning state, I lifted the lid.  (Please let this be a warning to those of you with a deep freeze – should this ever happen to you – do NOT open the lid until you are ready with a mask and gloves to fully empty and clean out the remains.  And yes, I call them remains, because that is exactly what it smells like.)  Now my entire house smells like the inner most area of the rancid freezer. 

At this point I know you are probably calling me an idiot, and other not so nice terms, but may I please digress so you understand the cause of the useless opening of the dead freezer door.  I awakened earlier than normal this morning to find the electricity off for no apparent reason.  Even first thing in the early morning the full impact of this hit me – no coffee.  That is emergency status in my house.  If there was a code red for coffee issues, this would be a flaming hot red code.  Standing in the center of the kitchen I calmly assess the dire situation.  We have several routes to take.  The no coffee route.  I quickly move on, as this is certainly not an option, and I would rather eat coffee grounds than to even remotely wander down this path.  This thought leads me to thought number two; if I use the filter basket and run what’s left of the hot water from the tap through it I wonder if I would at least get muddy water that has any slight resemblance to coffee.  Not plausible, but better than eating grounds.  Thought three is a wonderment of what may be in the back of my pantry, and by chance is there instant coffee or cappuccino mix buried from years past that I could use with my dwindling hot water supply.  This is the option I am deciding upon, but I realize that the baby may have to forego a warm bottle in order to squeak mom out one cup of old, stale coffee from a mix.  In the grand scheme of things, I am okay with this.  The baby will still have his milk, albeit not warm, and I’ll still have semi-coffee.  It’s all about sacrifice, you know.

It is at this point that God knows what is coming next, and He must have decided not to torment me any further, as the electricity resumes its powered state.  Praise God!  The first thing I head to is the coffee pot – I am not going to take the chance that the powers that be in the electrical world will turn off the power again, leaving me in the dark.  I then immediately turn to the washer, as I have a full load to get in and decide to do so while the electricity is still cracking.  And, with this load of laundry, we come full circle back to where I digressed, and you may now begin to understand why I opened the lid in the first place.  I awakened early only to stand in the dark, and was threatened with the prospect of no coffee.  In my early morning haze, I decide to try and beat the clock while the electrical is back on – because really, who knows when it will decide to cease its magical power – and in my pre-coffee, early morning haze, I follow my reaction to open the freezer door to see if indeed this is where the smell is coming from.  Had I been more in my right mind, I would have never even cracked that lid.

I still can’t figure out how that plug got pulled, but in reality it does not matter now.  I pulled up my to do list on the computer, and added fix freezer and buy bleach to the list.  This is going to be a very, very long day….

Heart Rays

Life is a funny, bizarre journey.  The days can seemingly run into one another with the mundane, yet each moment is a spectacle all of its own.  If one is not careful, one will miss the complex intricacies of everyday living.  There are moments where we know we never want to look back; we never want to experience anything remotely similar ever again.  There are also the moments you want to freeze; to never forget.  You stop and gather in every sense, just to try and keep hold of something that you know is fleeting.  Yet no matter how hard one tries, life moves on – through the good, through the bad, through the spectacular, through the ordinary.  A life well lived contains a litany of emotions from the surreal to the painful.  Life is not life unless you experience the emotions; the undercurrents that sweep you away before you even realize you’ve left.  Embrace the current of life, my dear friend, and keep hold for the years move fast even when we are moving slow.  As time passes you will come to realize that the days gone by just may be the best days of your life.  Do not miss those little shining crystals of brilliance hidden among your path and concealed in your own heart and soul.  We each can shine like the sun if only given the chance.  Let your soul shimmer; the rays of the heart are a beautiful and unique spectacle meant to be shared.  Nurture the crystals you call your own, polish them until they glimmer in even the faintest of light.  For even in the darkest of moments your own brilliance can carry you through in order to find the lighted path ahead.  That is the delight of heart rays; they are present in our life to guide us through even when we may not be available for ourselves.  Capture your own heart and hold tight – it will guide your journey of life and will take you places you never envisioned you would go.  And, if you let it, it will shine like the sun never letting your path dim.

The Bubble

I have created a perfect, happy little bubble in which I call my own. 

I exist inside this atmosphere content yet all alone. 

If and when I wander outside its mighty walls, 

I tread carefully to and fro so as to not induce a fall.

I seem to wander aimlessly when sent out on my way,

For to leave the bubble is to face the crowd and all they have to say.

At times this crowd hollers angrily, and their words do surely pound

And others walk right past me - as if I am invisible - without even a sound.

To feel the judgment on my face, or the quiet words unspoken

Cause silent tears to fall upon my heart and more memories to become broken.

So I run back to my bubble,

At peace amidst my own rubble.

For here I know at least I am protected,

Even though I am completely unconnected.

Many may wonder why I use the bubble as an excuse –

Try the years and years of prior abuse.

Having broken free from the pain,

I am tired of always having to explain.

Let me learn to be my own foundation

And to come away from the stagnation.

This bubble is what I call my own;

I am so happy to be home.