Monday, January 28, 2013

Almost that day

The day comes closer. It's just another day. The day before my daddy will have been gone for two years.

It's the day you will have been gone for one year.

I open your blog and stare at it, reading the post you wrote about our last visit over and over again. I smile when you mention me dropping the hood off the fish tank. I smile when I remember our Christmas card addressing. I smile when you talk about the meal you ate.

Then I cry.

Big sobbing, heaving, cries. Missing you like you were just here yesterday.

Some days aren't hard. Most days have happiness. The past week has been filled with birthdays and visits from Nana. But I missed M's birthday, and I could just kick myself. I'm no good at the long distance not quite an aunt thing. I miss your boys.

Moons and planets and stars and books and photos and blogs and scarves and fish and yoga pants and killer ponytails and everything.

It all reminds me of you.


Wednesday, January 16, 2013

WHAM. Done.

The therapy. It is tough. I'm often left all thought out, cried out, and tired out before I can open this page and begin to write.

But it's helping.

I'm supposed to be making connections. That's my long term homework. It's a hard assignment for me.

There are reconnections that I'm enjoying, and some that I'm not so much. It's good to get back to a friend you drifted from unnecessarily. A good friend.

But connections are hard for me. Trust is hard for me. Depending on someone is hard for me.

All I really want in life is to feel like I matter to the people I care about. It sounds simple, right? But it's not. There is this widely held notion that I cut off relationships with a cleaver. Just put them down on the chopping block and WHAM. Done.

It's partly true. I did call my ex-husband on Valentine's Day and tell him it was over. A seven year marriage. WHAM. Done.

But it's not like I didn't talk until I was blue in the face before that. It finally got to the point where if I felt like I was any less important, I would just drown.

I do try and tell people what I want or need. I do try and communicate. I think in the past, I've been too worried about pleasing people and not coming off as pushy or demanding. I think that I poorly communicated and then would just finally break. I also think that I had expectations far above what they should have been and then just plowed ahead to make my life meet them, whether the people around fit into them or not. Ahem, pushy.

It's just that there comes a moment when I can't stand one more ounce of pain and disappointment and I break. I lash out at what I see as the cause of the pain, and I break free of it. Not ideal, I know. It's how I have survived so far.

That isn't going to happen with Kevin. I know I matter to him. He shows me. He listens to me. He talks to me. We fight hard. We love each other harder than we fight. It is quite obvious that I am important to him.

And now there are children. There is mattering to someone, and then there is being a mother. There is no kind of being needed like the being needed of being a parent.

These holes I have are being filled. I know that I have to fill them myself too. I have to start mattering enough to myself, whatever that means. Or maybe it's that I have to give myself the right relationships to know that I matter.

I have spent the past several years feeling guilty that I didn't feel sorry enough for broken relationships and things people mistakenly blame on me. I'm done with that. I don't feel guilty. I'm not sorry. I'm incredibly happy. I have finally done what was right.

Just in case I needed affirmation on the decision that I'm done shouldering guilt and letting myself assume that I'm just an asshole - I had a dream.

I was in my old house. There were a lot more rooms than when I actually lived there, and they were full. Every room was full of people I was trying to take care of. I was roaming from room to room just letting people down because I hadn't been able to get whatever food they wanted or they were cold or they wanted a different view or whatever. I ended up back in my living room, drinking and crying when new friends walked in. It was Liz and her husband. They had come down from Brooklyn because they heard I had a great place to stay. She handed me a tissue while her husband went into the kitchen and got some more beers. Then, she looked around and said,

"Shit, Marty. Your old friends suck."

Harsh, I know. But dreams, at least my dreams, are often extremely exaggerated. The sentiment is there, though. It's time to make connections. Connections that I won't feel the need to WHAM and run from. It's way past time.

Tuesday, January 01, 2013


I'm not going to lie. 2012 sucked giant donkey balls. 2011 wasn't that much better.

Declaring that 2013 is going to be better just seems like a dare to the universe to whack me even harder than ever. Not something I want to even tempt.

So, I will declare only what I know will happen.

In 2013, I will turn 40. There won't be any complaining from me. I feel good. I'm lucky to get to turn 40. 

In 2013, Christopher will start kindergarten. I don't know where, and I don't know that I'm altogether alright with any of it. It causes me more anxiety than I would like to admit.

In 2013, Colin will start at Arts Together. I'm happy we have two more years to be there.

In 2013, Mallory will start her last year of high school. So we have one starting preschool, one starting kindergarten, and one starting her senior year. 

In 2013, Kevin and I will have been married for seven years. How is that even possible?

There are goals I have for 2013. I want to keep the house neater. I want to be in the 140's before I'm 40. I want to have my the way I eat when I'm counting points become more natural for me - have it not be a diet, but just the way I eat. I want to sew more. Write more. Play more. Sing more.

I want to be more present in my life in 2013. Aware of my children and their needs. Aware of my husband and his needs. Aware of my friends and their needs. And of course, aware of myself and my needs. 

It's so easy for me to just get stuck in my head. It doesn't take much for me to curl up like a pill bug and roll into my little hole. I'm going to let that be alright if it happens deliberately, but I'm going to try not to let it happen with me unaware.

In 2013, I will try to live deliberately, making thoughtful choices in my body, my mind, and my soul.

It's not a resolution. At least, not a New Year's resolution. It is a goal. One that my whole life has been leading up to. I think I have the tools to reach it finally. 

I guess we will see.