Pictures of You

     I haven't been able to figure out why the pictures never made it to the walls of my home since we moved here years ago.  I knew it was something psychological...complicated...sad...but didn't really fully get it. 
     Pictures are reminders.  We were young.  Light.  Hopeful and happy.  Alive.  Healthy.  The hallway in my old home was full of people who promised me that they would stay in touch.  Walking by them reminded me on a daily basis that they were too busy.  Other pictures were of family.  The family that had fallen from a full and excited one to one of loss and despair.  There were pictures of babies...that had grown already...never to be seen like that again.  They don't tell you when you become a parent that you will have to let go of the child you know over and over again.  Other pictures were of a young couple just starting a life's journey.  I can't even begin to tell you how much those pictures hurt so I won't even try.  And then there was me.  Young, tan, thin and smiling...she was lost somewhere along the way as well.  So the pictures that were up to remind us of the full and joyful life we were all leading had become painful realizations that they had all fallen short.  Now,  there are people missing.  A picture should make me feel nostalgic and loving but at this point they still just hurt. 
     I have discovered the camera again lately.  The girl that took many pictures and was in many as well had stopped doing both.  Lately, I feel the need to capture things again.  Though I still hold the theory that we should be in the moment and hold the feeling with our memory and emotion...a picture is a nice way to keep track of it all.  But as I just looked to the wall near the very place that I wake up and start my day every morning it hit me...I've been taking pictures of things.  Places.  Rocks.  Nature.  These things won't go away.  They won't change.  They won't leave or die or look different or get sick or hurt me.  They just are.  Just recently and after many, many years...new pictures have gone up.  I look at them now.  They are capturing moments again but the gift that the photograph gives you in one instant can be the very thing that breaks your heart in the next.  They become physical reminders of the pain.    I guess my battle with the photograph will continue just a little bit longer after all. 

Detours (Sheryl Crow)

     I have driven on these bumpy and worn roads for years.  I have memorized the potholes and the proper angles needed to dodge them.  I swerve when new ones sneak up on me...but there's always a new one waiting silently to catch me when my guard is down. 
       Lately it seems as if every single road is under construction.  There are bridges missing and blocked.  There is damage from the storms.  There are worn roads finally being dealt with because the season and temperatures allow the repairs.  To say construction is everywhere is an understatement.  In any given trip from here to my job...or the store...or to pick up the kids from school...it seems as if there is something somewhere.  Men with "slow" or "stop" signs are as common in the scenery as mountains, trees and clouds in these parts.  Have I mentioned that they are everywhere?  
     Today as I passed the detour for the road that was out and squeezed through the cones to get past the men working on power lines only to come to a blinking light where a bridge is now gone...it hit me.  All of the metaphors I have developed to make sense of it all for all of those around me and I was missing the biggest one yet.  My world is under construction.  For years it was neglected.  The roads were bumpy and full of hazards.  I was dodging holes and hoping to make it safely on my journeys from here to there.  Now, the roads are detours.  The bridges are being torn down to build new ones.  Traffic lights are being added.  Bumpy and worn messes are being replaced by smooth and friendly alternatives.  They will be safer...kinder...simpler.  Instead of memorizing holes and maneuvering around trouble I will now have the time to take in the scenery and enjoy the ride that I am on.  Someday it will be a smooth ride. 
     But at this moment it is annoying.  I have to plan for extra time for travel.  I have to be patient.  I have to find new routes when the known are closed off.   I have to accept that roads are closed and alternate patterns need to be found.  It is tedious.  It is tricky.  It is tiring.  BUT...but...but... eventually the roads will be all done.  The bridges will be new.  The streets will be smooth like glass.  It's just a matter of hard work, time and a few signs that remind me to take it "slow" when necessary and to "stop" if it's for my own good.  I will hang in there for now but boy am I looking forward to those beautiful, smooth roads that take me to where I am going. 

Under Pressure

      If graphite is squeezed with just the right temperature and pressure it becomes a diamond.  Something dull and simple becomes quite miraculous.  Gorgeous.  Strong and beautiful. 
     My universe and its unyielding lessons aren't leaving one stone unturned.  I should correct this...there are a few unturned and I am quite fearful universe...so please leave them that way.   I am finding myself overwhelmed.  Tired.  Drained.  Hurt.  Weary.  Worn.  I am sliding into old grooves...pulled as if the ice needs a good cleaning. 
     My car ride back and forth to work has been mentioned often.  It is my only "quiet" time.  I use quotes because quiet is the last way I would describe the drive.  My music is my companion.  Today a few clicks of the ipod brought me to this song....how perfect.  I will admit to you that I played it over and over.  It made sense of the madness that has been going on around me.   There is a shift happening and it seems that things are being twisted in some medieval device...relentlessly.  Pressure is scary.  Hard.  Makes us snap.  Makes us short.  Pushes us to say and do things.  We clean.  We run.  We fight.  We all have our behaviors and while are some are quite productive...others are extremely damaging.  Finding the tools and methods to get through the pressure is the key.  Harming as few souls as we can while on the journey is a goal.  Becoming more...better...bigger...stronger is why we experience pressure. 
     When you are delivering a baby they use the term "pressure".  When a jeweler describes the process of the development of a diamond the word is also used.  Babies and diamonds are both pretty spectacular so I'll cross my fingers and hope that at the end of this mess of a life I've been living lately...something really extraordinary will be the result.  
    In the meantime...to those of us experiencing these shifts...be patient.  With yourself.  With others.  Focus.  Breathe.  Center.  Keep perspectives.  Be aware.  Be productive.  Be kind....and wait for the sparkle of the diamond that you will become. 

The Perfect Space (The Avett Brothers)

     My theme for this next year of life will be "restore order".  It carries over into everything.  I will clean up my space...physical, emotional, mental and all the little places in between it all.  I will clear away the things that have been bogging me down...from the countless pages of emails to the closet of a woman who is no longer here to wear the clothes that hang there.  My dvr is loaded, my pile of bills is overwhelming, drawers are bursting and full of things that are no longer needed or useful.  There is a basement full of molding yesterdays and maybe tomorrows and a garage that would make it jealous.   I was surrounded by people who find it hard to say goodbye to anything...so things were kept to keep it simple and easy.  For them.  I am here buried in it all.  I am the girl who owns a label maker.  I find solace in charts.  I smile at a new batch of colorful dry erase markers for the calendar that keeps me fooled into thinking I am in charge of anything.  I am giving myself one year...to clean it all up. 
      Keep an eye on the "free rock" out front because you might just find something juicy.  Let me know if you've had your eye on anything.  I will be selling, donating, giving, tossing and purging.  Life needs to be simple.  Time should be spent with my growing children... not on moving things from one pile to the next.   Time should be spent with the man who might forget who I am sooner than I'd like to think...not on dusting things I don't care about.  Time should be spent digging myself out of the rubble...not out of the piles of clothing nobody wears.  It's time to find the perfect space to free up the time to frolic.  Time is my most valuable commodity and will not be wasted on people who don't appreciate it.  Now hand me my to do list and don't stand still for too long!

Wash Away (Joe Purdy)

     Another day watching the torrential rains.  Flooding.  Whirling creeks.  Raging waterfalls.  Puddles.  Everywhere.  There is a delicate little place near here with beautiful rocks and a sweet little trickling of water.  It was a force today.  Loud like thunder and rage.  Gorgeous.  Powerful.  I got my feet wet and walked through the soggy grass to the little stone bridge.  I made my way over it and stood there watching it all...taking it in.  It is usually serene and calm.  The grass was replaced with swirls and ripples.  The trunks of trees were devoured.  Big rain.  Big rush.  Big forces.  I touched the water, smelled it...marveled at it all.  I started to sense the symbolism that I have been missing.  I'm sorry to say I think all of this rain is my fault.
     I told my friend about it and suspecting my use of the event as my "new thing" of the day she requested I give it some more thought.  I replied that I was frolicking in a new waterfall.  She said that I should be frolicking everywhere. 
     She's right.
Just this morning I was reading a post from another friend (I'm pretty lucky to have such special people in my life).  She was saying that we don't get lost...we simply get buried.  I was pondering this all day.  It's really quite true.  We bury in defense and fear and the million other things that swallow us whole.  I am a girl who frolics...I just forgot how.  
    Without sounding all Big Love on y'all I'd like to say that this afternoon as I listened to the pounding water, felt the misty air around me, smelled earth and water, and felt the cold water and the power of it all...something happened.  Today is the last year of this age.  Tomorrow it starts over.  My friend added something to the series of encouraging texts she is beloved and known for..."It's a new year, new age, new you, new attitude, new life.  You are a superstar.  Share it with the world!".  Now, maybe just maybe, she was being a little bit funny in this but as I stood there with soggy toes I realized she was right.  I have found my theme.  I have found my new mission.  I might still crumble from time to time.  I might still need to find a new thing of the day to get me through to January.  But my goal to restore order and continue to dig through the rubble and layers to find me again is a big one.  At the end of it all I will be free to frolic any old place I want.  Thank you to the rain, the blog posts, the universe and all of the people that have blessed me with love, patience and friendship. 

Mom's Message to a Birthday Girl (We've Only Just Begun · The Carpenters)

     I am days from my next birthday and the quiet contemplation and constant retrospection has begun.  What's next?  I realized today that there are so many of us in this position lately...what now?  We should all be settled in by now, shouldn't we?  In my immediate circle there are people looking at the future...new babies, new jobs, new careers, new classes, scary relationships, failed marriages, new roads. 
     I turned to a song from my childhood.  My parents were older when they met and this was their constant inspiration.  As messes from their past got in the way of their tomorrows they held on to the today that got them through it all.  The message was simple and sweet.  A mantra for sweethearts that had many challenges.  As I can hear my Mom singing along I am seeing their burdens and trials so much clearer now.  Aging parents, new families blending with old families, baggage, sickness, traveling, financial burdens...you name it...they lived it.  My Mom had already lived five lifetimes in her 37 or so years and my Dad a decade older had seen his share of life as well.  Yet there they were just starting on a journey that would take them on one wild ride. 
     I got to go on that wild ride.  This year I will experience the first birthday without my mother by my side.  It's funny but I always thought as an adult I would find some sort of peace in that...honestly it's in the moments that I miss my Mom the most that I feel the youngest.  Sometimes just wanting to scream that I want my Mommy.  She won't be here to fight for the piece of traditional Carvel cake with the most crunchies.  She won't be here to laugh at our horrible singing.  She won't be here at all. 
     If she were here she would tell me not to sweat the small stuff.  She would remind me that it all goes very quickly.  She would tell me to live big because I won't see these people ever again.   She would tell me to take a day every here and there to snuggle and watch cooking shows.  She must've whispered that to me this morning as I snuggled with my babies and did exactly that.  She would say..."Get out there!"...whether that be a dance floor or a new adventure.  She passed on many good traits to me...some through lessons, some through guidance...others through mistakes.  She would encourage me to do some big new things and she wouldn't stop at me.  She might tell a few of you some other things: To the lady having a baby almost a decade after her first...don't be scared...those second round babies come out pretty good.  To the woman who just found the love of her heart...enjoy it because it makes up for all those years of struggle.  To the lost souls and stray dogs...find yourself already...life is too short.  To the couples who are just starting out and starting over...it's hell but it's worth it.  Never stop learning.  Never stop serving mankind.  Never stop reaching.
     Lots of things are on the horizon for a girl and a birthday and the scent of white musk just told me that she might just be here after all to watch the candles go out.