Sunday, December 28

After CHRISTMAS

Next year I SWEAR I will be as far away from all traditional holidays as possible.  WHERE?  TO? GO?

It seems that fight or flight is rearing its ever so ugly head.

How is it that, the ones who you want to give most too....  Spit in your eye? Snarl at you heart? Shun

your love?

At the point of collapse.

Today,  I was, gratefully driving from visiting my brother and his wife.  While driving home, I  thought: I'm tired. I give. I have no fight.  No where to want for flight.  This is a first.

I was very surprised to acknowledge that fact. It seems the only thing that ever kept me going was the fight; never the love, never the sweetness, never understanding, compassion, listening, caring... but that fucking fight to just want to keep going.

I've never known to say or feel that I'm tired of the fight.  I've always seemed to 'find' a drive or a reason or a need or a passion or ... something. I just don't feel 'it' anymore. This is breaking my heart.

As a child, I remember the feeling of flight.  Wondering, while playing in that Tulsa backyard, sticky, summer, humid, haze, watching ALL the cars, about 1/4 mile away on Route 66, wondering; how long is their drive? where could they take me!?  While lying on my back in the grass after playing as a child, would wonder, where are those jets GOING?  Where ever they're going, I WANT TO GO.

Now, looking at all this crappy-ness that life has presented, I just wonder why? Why was I born? Why did I live? Why didn't anyone care? Or IF they did, why didn't I know? Why am I still searching after 62 years? Why haven't I gotten some relief after this marvelous, soul opening summer of exploring, finding, holding letters, photos, death certificates, blah, blah, blah.

Then: wake up! Fight!  No one cares about this stupid drivel, pathetic corn-pone intelligence.
I'm SO bored with this story, I want to shoot the author!

Fact: left
Fact: dreamt
Fact: achieved
Fact: mothered
Fact: healthy

Get over your po po po pity play. No one cares, because they're all living their own! Tell a story that can shed grace, light, connections.

So, with that, the end becomes the beginning: Next year I SWEAR I will be as far away from all traditional holidays as possible.  WHERE?  TO? GO?

Wise men candles.  A fundraiser from Whittier Elementary School, Teaneck, NJ circa 1986.  This will be the token Xmas directions for next year.... Just enough and safe.  :)

December 23

This last week has been a rough one.

Realizing that none of my kids will be here.  Realizing that none of them chose to be here.

Trey, I can understand, as he's still in recovery mode and finances definitely play a part.  Question is will he at least call?

Hailley's excusable, as Marnie's going through super rough time with this being 1st Christmas without Tara, going through a divorce, custody battle, home battle... and they are very close.  OK.  I give.  Questions are why were none of them there for me?  Will she call?

Then there's Evan.  This is the 2nd year he's said he'll come then is completely SILENT.  I see photos of him on FB partying in the Bahamas, shit king making 'bro' comments, putting it so squarely in my face I cannot even begin to know HOW to react.

Jeanne says to see a therapist and work this out for ME.

I try to understand, but clearly do not have a grip on understanding.  I try to be patient, however, find being grilled, talked down to by my kids for bothering them, for that horrible ordeal of having to repeat themselves, that they're too busy to call, text or email, just works my patience into depression.

FUCK.  Do I really wish I just had DOGS????  haha

So, Quincey and I are holding tight and enjoying our friendship!  My neighbor, Judy, is being such a doll.  She said, "I just don't want to see you cry anymore!"  That, of course, made me cry.  She's been such an loving shoulder, just listening, then saying, hang onto your daughter!  Boys can be like that...

That, in itself, gave me some strength. Then, the heartfelt invitation from Susan Saxe, my new best cousin... come to Houston!  Then, Jeanne asking... come to Dayton!  Just the thought of being welcome makes me cry.  shit.

Sooooo, now, Tuesday, a new day and new mission.  Dear friends from San Francisco are here.  Such a splendid example of true family love.  They adopted their son, Adam, at birth.  He knows his birth mother and they visited her on their drive down here to Palm Springs.  Christmas they'll be spreading Ron's dad's ashes in the Pacific with Ernest and Adam holding hands. These two dads and their adopted son inspire me beyond belief.  Last night I made spaghetti squash and turkey bolognese.  They came over and so did Judy.  This certainly filled that hole!  Laughter, stories, dreams shared by all.  Yep, filling up the hole with love.

Tuesday's a fine little day.  It's warm, sunny and I don't have cancer!  Holla!

Sunset on December 21

Little presents for Judy and Penny.

Pretty gardenias starting to bloom from Neal and Cindi.

I am grateful for what I have, who my friends are, that I'm still healthy and able to work!

December 14

Oh, for you two, loving souls who are yet to meet.

#1... soul sista
#1... blood

Thank you for concern, needed updates, reaching, etherial... I guess we ARE all just dancers in life.

Not feeling a drudgery of darkness, but, as I've seemed to look at life, an ever surviving plant.  They seed, they bloom, they die. OR. They bloom, they go dormant, they bloom.

Many years ago, college years, I felt myself as relating more to a tree and not humans.  Really.  No joke.  Seriously.  And, I LOVED that I related to a tree.  Loved that something in that safe imagination could spring board into the next day.

So, the tree?

With no knowledge of anything horticultural: Birch.

I 'heard' (from where? from whom? perhaps Jung could help me out with this?) that a Birch tree's top could bend so far, it's top could touch the ground.  A tree bending? A flexible tree trunk? The backbone from earth? An acrobat of nature? The top touching the bottom?  That imagery had, and still does, a lock on my hand, an uplifting type of tug of wonder that had a balm/calm essence.

The place where I grew up only had Oak trees. A place where bending did not happen. This was what I understood as to be THE ONLY TRUTH.  This realization made me think I was an alien.  Made me feel displaced and misunderstood.  How can the image of a tree be so f+(^*&^ing profound"?  How was it possible to find that valve? Shut down yet still move foreword?  Relating to and imitating a plant?   SO grateful for Active Imagination.

Then.

Now.

Holidays.

2014

Solita

Stable

The 'it' factor

It is the moment to go onward. It is the energy to sustain. It is the moment to give peace and let go.

Love. Love. Love.