The end of 44

Today is my last day of being 44. 44 was a hard, hard year for me. I lost EVERYTHING including my husband, family, a girlfriend, and the death of my two pugs. I became homeless, hopeless and full of pain I would never wish upon a soul….

44 was a bitch to live through, but there are a lot of good things that happened during my 44th year too. I reconnected with so many good friends and family relationships that had gone neglected. I saw Elton John… TWICE! I drove all the way to New Orleans and back and slept in my van like a cool kid. I began living with a stranger. I went to fucking New York City and saw Hadestown where Andre Deshields winked at me and blew me and my girlfriend a kiss AFTER the last bow! I ate on the subway floor!! I’ve taken a train on Christmas. I’ve messaged another stranger I met three years ago who never writes me back. I puked on myself my first day working at the zoo. I work at the zoo…. I’ve painted so many different people and had so many different conversations. I played in a ukulele circle! I played my tongue drum, flute and didgeridoo at the drum circle I frequent. I went to see Rocky Horror Picture Show!

By being left, I was forced to go out into the world. I had no other choice. I’m alive again…. And I’m making house calls!

And through these pains, I will grow. I will thrive. And I will become whole again. I have people who love me dearly. And I have god and all my angels and spirt guides who help me. God sometimes has a great sense of humor. I learned that at 44 too….

This is never where I pictured myself at 44. Single, but not alone…. I’m too loved to be left totally alone, and for that I am blessed and thankful. I’ve got a life to rebuild. 45 should be a good year…. Happy last day together 44… I understand that this year was necessary to put me on a path where I can flourish, but damn if you weren’t aggressively rude! Whew!

Time

I believe that time is the best medicine. It heals untreatable wounds, gives you perspectives that you didn’t have before, and allows room for growth in areas you didn’t know needing improvements. Time is the teller of truths… it gives clarity where confusion once drove the car. The problem is that we live in a fast paced world where we mark time in hours, months, days and minutes. But time lives by her own clock and it’s not the same as ours. Lessons have to be learned, wounds have to scar over, broken hearts have to heal. There is no time frame for how long these things take to learn, and we don’t get a letter grade at the end of a semester of life…. We either survive or we don’t. We’re either happy or we’re not. What we do with our time is our choice, but it affects what time does with us. If you spend your days worrying about the one(s) who got away or left you, you’ll be in a state of constant despair. If you use your time to reflect and heal, you won’t repeat the cycle. But if you jump before your broken bones have mended, you’re sure to cause further injury. I’m healing. Being with my kids has done wonders for my spirit, my soul, and overall countenance. For this time, I am blessed.

Spell it out for me

Christmas.

This time of year makes you think about people you love. Past, present, and for so many the hope of the future. Pregnant moms, patient but protective dads, grandparents who have a brand new role to take on in life…. Old loves, new loves. Heart healers and heart breakers…. They all come rushing in through some sort of nostalgia…. A song, a food, a special place….

I heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the lord…. I think this emotion is that special secret chord…. It’s rarely hit but the feeling is unforgiving and melodic….

Sometimes it can cause you to remember better days when you’ve got the future to plan for….Other times it can cause a lifetime to flash before your eyes…. An entire season…

525,600 minutes…. A season of love…. How many cups of coffee did you share with people you love this year? How many midnights?

I miss you. I’m thinking of you and the memories we almost made. I was somebody else… in your arms I was somebody else. Mother’s and Hollywood and the gods up above make it seem so easy to love…. I was somebody easy to love.

There are sins there are drugs when a hearts been broken… there are cloaks there are rugs when a law has been broken….

Press repeat

The holidays, travel, and solitude….

This past year has been such a roller coaster ride for me. I began the year with a trip to New York that my precious friend orchestrated and planned down to the minute. I went to the big Apple…. I ate a meal on the floor of penn station, I watched Elton John twice this year. I came back to hell and the ending of an era and the demise of my family.

I ended it with a trip to New Orleans. I planned on going and eating chicken in the cemeteries of New Orleans. I walked up and down the French quarter, and lord knows where else, saw street artisans, buskers, performers, and 7 year old kids leant king the tricks of the trade. I saw inspiring art that has me anxious to try their style… my idea was to go and hang alone in my van, but my divorce sister made the decision that she wanted to join and I ended up in the middle of the French quarter on Magazine street. I walked the streets, felt the genuine energy of the city…. Sat on the sidewalk on burbon street, watched a jewelry maker make a ring for my friend while I sat and discussed astrology with another artist. I may be mistaken, but I think a rather large gentleman with a whip was hitting on me. I drank one drink too many, but was led safely back by my friend.

Coming back from New Orleans was a lot different than returning from NYC. I didn’t feel anxious, afraid or insecure that the woman who took me in had done anything to damage me while I was away…. I felt more secure coming back to her home than back to the life I have shared with another person for 20 plus years.

Anyone who knows me knows that I have ZERO sense of direction. I barely know up from down and left from right. There is no north south East or west in my direction vocabulary…. I constantly use Siri for directions every place I go….the problem with Siri is she can’t navigate my emotions….I’ve felt emotionally lost this entire year. I think my system needs an upgrade…

I’m encroaching on a kind woman who I met once and she opened her home to me… I’ve been here after I was abandoned and left homeless and penniless with no clue where to turn. Fortunately people reached out to me…. My friends who so generously opened their hearts, homes and love to me.

I still don’t have my footing, my grounding or any sense of direction, so I’m going day to day. I try and make plans, work to keep those plans, and trust in god that all is part of HIS plan. I cherish every single hug like it was water in the desert.

I don’t have a home to create a safe haven of creativity and sanctuary in, but I do have people who love me, care so much for my well-being, and who would not be able to rest knowing I was in duress. These are not the people I expected to be in my corner, they’re people I’ve connected with at one place or another throughout my journey that grew to love me. For these things, I am beyond blessed.

My sanctuary now has to be built inside of myself. I already have the space created and constructed in my mind, and now I need to decorate my soul… with joy…. With security, stability and self sufficient survival. The book eat pray love reminded me of that during my drive…

2022 is not what I ever expected it to be, but it has been a year of transition. Change is always very hard for me. I never expected the changes that have happened to occur, but I trust and believe that all of my experiences are preparing me for greatness. Levels of joy I’ve never know. Falling in love with myself. Engaging in activities that are happy and healthy, and walking away with grace from that which no longer serves me in a positive manner. That’s easier said than done and it’s a long, LONG road from perdition.

I’ll escape hell. The meanest dog you’ll ever meet is not the hound dog down the street….. it’s the one inside your head…. Hadestown? Yes. So…. Wait for me…. I’m coming…. I’m coming!!!

Mercy for medusa

Did you know your body can mimic symptoms of a heart attack when one suffers deeply from a broken heart? I know that cause I learned it on greys anatomy…. It’s good to learn things from any place that you can because on more than one occasion, I’ve explained to myself that I wasn’t actually having a heart attack, it just felt like one. The paramedics (ugh yes plural) have told me the same things….

I don’t understand how people have the ability to just pick up and move on with life when something extraordinary happens to them, and act like it never occurred. Good or bad.

My heart hurts…. So much….. I want a hug. I want to run my hands down my daughters back… I want to sing a song with my basset hound…

I will survive this, but my heart won’t. I feel like Medusa. Her entire story honestly…. Betrayed by those who she trusted, abused by those sworn to protect her, and all the blame placed on her for being a stone cold monster.

Hell… if I could turn people into stone who try to get in my secret lair, you’d betta bet I’d have a nice set of garden statues!!!

I hurt so much. I feel so alone. I need a hug. A genuine let me blow snot all over your shirt cause I’m crying so hard hug. This wasn’t my plan…. This wasn’t my plan.

Her puppet

What a perfectly behaved boy you’ve been!

You have resisted so well.

Never once stepping out of line,

But don’t you look bored as hell. How does your soul feel?

Sitting on the sidelines, never sharing the spotlight.

Watching the dancing ladies that have no warmth unless you’ve got a $20 to slip in their strings.

What about your strings? The ones that make you who you are. So attached and well behaved. So, controlled…

Do you ever get tired of the strings that tie you down? That make you their puppet? Do you want to use those strings to tie someone up? Or to untie them to hold yourself?

Say fuck it and cut the strings…. Use them to tie yourself to the hanging tree. Are you going? They strung up a man they say who murdered three!

We all know that’s bullshit though….

Strange things can happen there, no stranger would it be. Than to meet me at midnight, Pinocchio, at the hanging tree.

Misses Wendell

Today I was driving to my doctors appointment…. I was at ZERO on my gas, so I had to get off early. Took me a hot minute to find where a gas station was, you’d think I was in NYC….

Well I found my gas, rescheduled my appointment because by that time I was late. Took a few strange turns and happened upon a clearly homeless woman walking down the street. She had her big ole shopping bag, full of more stuff than even I would tote around if I were in her shoes. She was profusely sweating, older, so beautiful and heartbreaking. I stopped my car, got out and gave her the drink and snack I had just got and began talking to her about resources to help people who were homeless. I talked with her for about 10 minutes, when she invited me down to hertz donuts to chat with her and listen to some music. I hugged her, held my hand to her face and told her I’d come see her and we could listen to some Etta James and Floyd Dixon. I then began singing 450 pound woman in the middle of the street without a care in the world. Her eyes lit up, bright. She fist bumped me and belly laughed… and kept offering to give me back my gardettos. No miss Renata…. You keep those gardettos and we will have some donuts and coffee soon…

I was so moved by the interaction that I just turned down a few more random streets and happened upon a LOVELY cemetery…. I absolutely love cemeteries…. They are so calm, peaceful, and great for finding conversations and figuring things out…. I love the headstones…. The families who are side by side even after death….

The time is 4:56, but the 5:00 church Bells are ringing….

I need to charge my phone up so I can make a playlist for miss Renata….

Life is so fucking great today. I’m so glad I took whatever weird wrong turns that got me to the knolls, carrols, and miss Renata.

Cest la vie

20 is too young to die

I miss my husband.  I wonder, does he miss his wife?  
Not the people that life turned us into.  The hardships we experienced, the storms we weathered, all of the unending baggage we picked up along the way, never putting anything down, but instead trying to juggle it between the two of us and adding more as we went…

I miss my husband.  I wonder does he miss his wife? 
Not the people who the fire burned, or the snowstorms of poverty buried.  Not the casing, the shells of what used to be a safe haven of life, a beacon of beauty and inspiration for others going through their own storms. 

I miss my husband.  I miss pizza night.  I miss chess.  I miss dancing with the old people and looking at their lives reflecting their younger years through our not so fancy footwork.  
I miss the things we never did.  I rue the memories we will never make. Being grandparents together for the children we raised together… never dancing to frank Sinatra in the middle of cleaning the kitchen together again… 

20 years.  Till death do we part.
No truer words.  I did die.  I’m still dead. That woman is no more and never will be again.  May she Rest In Peace.  May he Rest In Peace.  The memories treated gently, with care and respect.  Death is painful.  Especially for the living.  20 is simply too young to die.  When your soul dies, resurrection may never happen.  
I got you babe.  And baby, it’s so cold outside.  One more cigarette? 
I’ve got to go away…. 
Because life is for the living.  




 

Lidocaine Licorice would be lovely

The ebb and flow of abandonment is like being on that piece of wood that rose was on in titanic… or maybe the first couple of rafts Tom hanks built on cast away…. You’re getting the concept down, you’ve got high hopes, but it’s just not strong enough to withstand the waves.

Tom Hanks kept starting over…. Maybe I should make a Wilson…. I wonder if I’d go for a girl Wilson, or a boy Wilson. Maybe non-binary…

I kind of remember when I got taken to the children’s home. I remember crying, disbelief, and going and finding a piano. I was in shock.

I’m in shock now. I’ve had all my choices, security, and dignity ripped from me, while everyone carries on in merriment, then laughs, gets angry and ridicules me for expressing opinions and emotions….

I have feelings. What has been done to me is HORRIBLE. DISGUSTING. UNFORGIVABLE….

And I will NEVER be healed inside, I will always be lame….

Now I’m just somebody that you used to know…

Don’t bother now…. It’s too late…. I’m too far gone….