This song has always held my heart steady during dark days...
It is strange on about 100 levels that it would be such a comfort to me.
Tonight I have listened to it nearly that many times.
Forgive the silly link since I couldn't find a better quality video to share...
angel doves
Yesterday my village sent me my own little angel dove (though I am pretty sure she would NOT approve of that sobriquet). A friend I hadn't seen in way, way, way too long swooped over here to my little house of grief unexpectedly. She took me out and reminded me that I was alive and cute and loved :)
And I am pretty damn sure I was wishing for just such a thing.
So today I put on a super cute pair of jeans that actually fit, AND a shirt made this year (free of stains and rips). I ran my errands kind of feeling like a runway model. Well maybe a tomboy runway model. No...more like a model for a lesbian cruise vacation - but whatever, you get the idea. I felt special. So special that I changed clothes before I started cleaning. Cause I think that is what people who have nice shit do. They don't spill comet on it.
And tomorrow? Well I have a new outfit for tomorrow too folks - and a really special fuzzy zip-up hoodie to keep out the chill.
And though I may still be faking it til it's real...after yesterday that idea actually seems a little more possible.
so thank you...I needed a little bit of hope right about now.
Wednesday, January 04, 2012
Sunday, December 25, 2011
christmas marathon...
For weeks you plan, and purchase, and wrap.
And then your 11-year-old turns into a strung-out junkie screaming for your stash.
I couldn't sleep last night, for 1000 reasons, but the one I'll tell you about is CHRISTMAS SPIRIT. Not mine (which has been severely lacking for obvious reasons) but the ethos of the season. I could feel the energy of the children trying desperately to sleep, dreaming of gifts and frenzy.
In my younger years, my sister and I could literally make ourselves hallucinate on Christmas Eve. We were sofuckingexcited we saw little bunnies dressed in suit jackets running around our room opening their little bunny presents.
My son, as an only child, doesn't have a sibling to feed off of, but he manages to find that sweet psychosis just fine. He is such a wonderful guy, and even though the gifts were modest this year he was nothing but smiles and hugs all day. Even running around from family to friends was easy. He joked with his cousins, helped me clean and cook and sang carols all the while. As he was going to sleep he told me that he felt "blissful" and that it had be an amazing day.
He reminds me every day how grateful I am to be his mom...and I hope everyone out there found a reason to smile today :)
And now I am going to be a bad santa and steal from his stocking...muah ha ha!
And then your 11-year-old turns into a strung-out junkie screaming for your stash.
I couldn't sleep last night, for 1000 reasons, but the one I'll tell you about is CHRISTMAS SPIRIT. Not mine (which has been severely lacking for obvious reasons) but the ethos of the season. I could feel the energy of the children trying desperately to sleep, dreaming of gifts and frenzy.
In my younger years, my sister and I could literally make ourselves hallucinate on Christmas Eve. We were sofuckingexcited we saw little bunnies dressed in suit jackets running around our room opening their little bunny presents.
My son, as an only child, doesn't have a sibling to feed off of, but he manages to find that sweet psychosis just fine. He is such a wonderful guy, and even though the gifts were modest this year he was nothing but smiles and hugs all day. Even running around from family to friends was easy. He joked with his cousins, helped me clean and cook and sang carols all the while. As he was going to sleep he told me that he felt "blissful" and that it had be an amazing day.
He reminds me every day how grateful I am to be his mom...and I hope everyone out there found a reason to smile today :)
And now I am going to be a bad santa and steal from his stocking...muah ha ha!
Saturday, December 24, 2011
seven years...
It doesn't feel like it has been seven years since my father died.
Christmas Eve. Seven year prior.
He died about 2 in the morning. I took the call from the nurse. I told my mother that her husband of 52 years was gone. And we drove to the hospital so she could see his body.
My son was 4 years old...and didn't have much clue what was happening. That Christmas Eve I had a grieving mother and a four-year-old who was convinced Santa wouldn't be able to find us at my parents' house. He was partly right, since his gifts were back in Tallahassee - and all the adults around him were falling apart.
We left my mother in the care of my brother and scurried home to Tallahassee. I stayed up all night putting together his toys, wrapping his gifts, and stuffing his stocking. It was so surreal.
I know my Dad didn't want to ruin Christmas. Or maybe he did ;) He never really liked family gatherings all that much. Especially Christmas. He was the guy who would have all the discarded wrapping paper cleaned up and in the garbage by 7:45 AM and then promptly ignore the rest of us with whatever he could find on TV. But that was only in his later years, after decades of drinking had taken away his good heart.
My childhood Christmas' were a different story...he would sing carols, decorate with near recklessness, cleverly hide our presents or pretend he had lost them altogether, and saved his change all year to make sure our faces exploded with smiles when we unwrapped just what we wanted. The Christmas after I graduated from acupuncture school with my doctorate of oriental medicine, he got me a placard for my desk. One side (which would face my clients) read: "Dr. Karen Stump" and the other side, facing me, read: "Dr. Binky". That was his nickname for me, Binky. He said he wanted something on my desk that reminded me how proud he was of me. He had gotten it made at the local flea market. And still to this day it is one of my most favorite gifts of all time.
As much as I hated watching my mother say goodbye to her husband, I hated that first Christmas without my father even more...
And each Christmas Eve I miss him.
So this evening I light a candle for my dad, and for those I love that are far away. Thinking about the family we are born into and the family we choose...and sending big hugs and best wishes for a merry christmas.
Christmas Eve. Seven year prior.
He died about 2 in the morning. I took the call from the nurse. I told my mother that her husband of 52 years was gone. And we drove to the hospital so she could see his body.
My son was 4 years old...and didn't have much clue what was happening. That Christmas Eve I had a grieving mother and a four-year-old who was convinced Santa wouldn't be able to find us at my parents' house. He was partly right, since his gifts were back in Tallahassee - and all the adults around him were falling apart.
We left my mother in the care of my brother and scurried home to Tallahassee. I stayed up all night putting together his toys, wrapping his gifts, and stuffing his stocking. It was so surreal.
I know my Dad didn't want to ruin Christmas. Or maybe he did ;) He never really liked family gatherings all that much. Especially Christmas. He was the guy who would have all the discarded wrapping paper cleaned up and in the garbage by 7:45 AM and then promptly ignore the rest of us with whatever he could find on TV. But that was only in his later years, after decades of drinking had taken away his good heart.
My childhood Christmas' were a different story...he would sing carols, decorate with near recklessness, cleverly hide our presents or pretend he had lost them altogether, and saved his change all year to make sure our faces exploded with smiles when we unwrapped just what we wanted. The Christmas after I graduated from acupuncture school with my doctorate of oriental medicine, he got me a placard for my desk. One side (which would face my clients) read: "Dr. Karen Stump" and the other side, facing me, read: "Dr. Binky". That was his nickname for me, Binky. He said he wanted something on my desk that reminded me how proud he was of me. He had gotten it made at the local flea market. And still to this day it is one of my most favorite gifts of all time.
As much as I hated watching my mother say goodbye to her husband, I hated that first Christmas without my father even more...
And each Christmas Eve I miss him.
So this evening I light a candle for my dad, and for those I love that are far away. Thinking about the family we are born into and the family we choose...and sending big hugs and best wishes for a merry christmas.
Friday, December 23, 2011
god bless...
I hear that quite a bit. Not just when I sneeze either.
My patients seem to show their gratitude by blessing me, praying with me, some even saying they feel that God sent me to be their nurse. Funny how no one minds I am a lesbian as long as they don't actually know about it.
Just the other day I was heading into Publix behind a woman who dropped a $20 bill without noticing. I scooped it up and ran to return it to her. She told me thankyouthankyou and "LordJesus sent me an angel today!"
I'm sure most people would have done the same...though it is strange how often I have the opportunity to help strangers. The person in the wheel chair who can't reach the can of soup they want, the comcast repair guy who's truck needs a jump, the lost old man who can't remember where he parked his car. And maybe it isn't all that special, maybe lots of folks are helping out strangers every day and just not talking about it.
But these days, when my heart is sooooooo darn heavy, the temptation is to drive on by the broken down comcast guy and pretend I don't notice. But I don't drive by. I stop. I help. And the stranger usually references God working through me.
Interesting God would tell all his followers to hate it when I fall in love, but still send me on all these errands.
The drama from my recent breakup continues...and I come home and can still smell her in my house. I've been too sad to even VACUUM (which has never happened in my LIFE) but I don't think it's my lack of housecleaning that keeps her smell lingering. I think our bodies hold on to memories. Sights and sounds and smells and feelings. It takes a long time to move away from our memories - and you have to want to. Which I don't.
I know a big reason my love left was her faith. So each time someone tells me how much God loves me I think about her. She was torn apart trying to reconcile her feelings for me with what her church had taught her. And I lost.
Tonight was a night spent listening to songs of an effortless love.
And then seriously regretting that choice.
Want me to share?
My patients seem to show their gratitude by blessing me, praying with me, some even saying they feel that God sent me to be their nurse. Funny how no one minds I am a lesbian as long as they don't actually know about it.
Just the other day I was heading into Publix behind a woman who dropped a $20 bill without noticing. I scooped it up and ran to return it to her. She told me thankyouthankyou and "LordJesus sent me an angel today!"
I'm sure most people would have done the same...though it is strange how often I have the opportunity to help strangers. The person in the wheel chair who can't reach the can of soup they want, the comcast repair guy who's truck needs a jump, the lost old man who can't remember where he parked his car. And maybe it isn't all that special, maybe lots of folks are helping out strangers every day and just not talking about it.
But these days, when my heart is sooooooo darn heavy, the temptation is to drive on by the broken down comcast guy and pretend I don't notice. But I don't drive by. I stop. I help. And the stranger usually references God working through me.
Interesting God would tell all his followers to hate it when I fall in love, but still send me on all these errands.
The drama from my recent breakup continues...and I come home and can still smell her in my house. I've been too sad to even VACUUM (which has never happened in my LIFE) but I don't think it's my lack of housecleaning that keeps her smell lingering. I think our bodies hold on to memories. Sights and sounds and smells and feelings. It takes a long time to move away from our memories - and you have to want to. Which I don't.
I know a big reason my love left was her faith. So each time someone tells me how much God loves me I think about her. She was torn apart trying to reconcile her feelings for me with what her church had taught her. And I lost.
Tonight was a night spent listening to songs of an effortless love.
And then seriously regretting that choice.
Want me to share?
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
dating fun part 3,429
This is an old post that I never shared because I was too embarrassed. But hey, at least it isn't about my recent breakup! Right? So enjoy an old but true tale...
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somehow I just don't give up.
Even though I have less free time than a sitting president and am picky and mean.
Why then, do I keep trying?
Ahhhhhh - I think it is that pesky feeling of HOPE. The hope that I'll remember what it feels like to come home from work with someone waiting, someone who is happy to see me and wants to hear about my boring day. Someone who'll see a movie they think is lame just because they KNOW I would love it :)
So the online presence continues...
And finally I run across someone who doesn't disgust me with the first email! WOW! Look! They know how to use punctuation! But not gratuitously!!!!!!!!!!! THEY DO NOT TYPE IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS! And they ask me questions about my life while also sharing stories about themselves! Giddy with expectation, we begin to online chat (this is known as second-base in the online dating world).
Chatting is going well too...she doesn't care that I am unemployed. In fact, she is super impressed that I am in nursing school. She adores children and has a fancy degree that she uses in a field I find INTERESTING! HOLY EFFING CRAP! It is like a fairy tale! She asks for my phone number (third base) and I throw caution to the wind and instead ask her out. I am tired of the protracted "hi" and "where are you from" and blah blah blah from too many years in this ritual and decide to jump right into a face-to-face interaction. She is young (too young, according to my sister) but I don't care. After all, I am far too immature to date someone my own age.
So we decided to meet.
She explained that she has a driving phobia and would I mind picking her up...
Hmmmmmm. "Driving phobia??" What could that mean? Did driving phobia = DUI? Or maybe she was raised in NYC and never learned to drive? I was scared/interested and tried to ask her a bit about it, but she laughed it off as just something that she was "working through". But hey, I can handle phobias, right? Hell I have a few myself! So off I went.
I pulled into her driveway and saw her standing there waiting. I could tell right away she was different. Not different in that fairy-tale-outta-a-dream kind of way. But different as in, neurologically speaking. My student nurse brain quickly ran through the possibilities...cerebral palsy? Spinal cord injury? Wow. The girl had a walker. That was a lot of information to process in the moment it took to pull into her driveway...Funny she had mentioned that she had recently lost her dog, 3 computers, a gas fireplace and a yoga mat...but not a WALKER. I mean, I have dated a girl in a wheelchair before AND HAD EVEN MENTIONED THAT TO HER - so you think she would have felt OK bringing it up. Nonetheless, I scooped her up and we went out to eat.
At the restaurant I remembered why it is so very very very important to talk on the phone with someone before agreeing to meet in person. This girl talked over me, told 20 minute long stories about her cousins and neighbors and favorite episodes of Law and Order and described in detail her gun collection. She told me over and over what a good listener I was as she detailed how Jimmy (not sure who he was) once got mad at Susan (maybe Susan was her sister?) but really he should have been mad at Christine because the trouble really started back in 1997 when they moved out of that crap-hole apartment into the city for a fresh start and...well I couldn't keep up and was silently imagining how I really had broken the cardinal rule of online dating. Do NOT agree to meet someone until you have heard the sound of their voice, their cadence when telling a story and the subtle back and forth of the conversational rhythm. But I had broken the rule and so now I had to sit and listen to poor Jimmy's woes (maybe Jimmy was her ex husband?! I thought I heard the word fiance a few minutes back).
After dinner I took her home and walked her inside... into her house...don't ask me why because I don't have an answer for you. Her home was of course covered in dog fur (though her dog had been dead for 3 months). There were literally 25 empty coke cans lining every horizontal surface of the den...as if they were trophies earned over the years. Both sectional couches were piled high with (what I hope was) clean laundry and the dust bunnies across the baseboards were plentiful enough to start a union and demand better living conditions.
Oh Hope, how you make me do things that defy all reason! Hope can make me throw caution to the wind and try over and over to find a human connection. Hope allows me to dream of walking hand in hand along the beach at sunset. But the reality of the world sits across from you at dinner and says "I just don't get how fat people aren't too embarrassed to eat in public" (yes she actually said that).
And somewhere in the universe Hope is giving a high-five to Bitterness and saying "OK, she's all yours now!"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
somehow I just don't give up.
Even though I have less free time than a sitting president and am picky and mean.
Why then, do I keep trying?
Ahhhhhh - I think it is that pesky feeling of HOPE. The hope that I'll remember what it feels like to come home from work with someone waiting, someone who is happy to see me and wants to hear about my boring day. Someone who'll see a movie they think is lame just because they KNOW I would love it :)
So the online presence continues...
And finally I run across someone who doesn't disgust me with the first email! WOW! Look! They know how to use punctuation! But not gratuitously!!!!!!!!!!! THEY DO NOT TYPE IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS! And they ask me questions about my life while also sharing stories about themselves! Giddy with expectation, we begin to online chat (this is known as second-base in the online dating world).
Chatting is going well too...she doesn't care that I am unemployed. In fact, she is super impressed that I am in nursing school. She adores children and has a fancy degree that she uses in a field I find INTERESTING! HOLY EFFING CRAP! It is like a fairy tale! She asks for my phone number (third base) and I throw caution to the wind and instead ask her out. I am tired of the protracted "hi" and "where are you from" and blah blah blah from too many years in this ritual and decide to jump right into a face-to-face interaction. She is young (too young, according to my sister) but I don't care. After all, I am far too immature to date someone my own age.
So we decided to meet.
She explained that she has a driving phobia and would I mind picking her up...
Hmmmmmm. "Driving phobia??" What could that mean? Did driving phobia = DUI? Or maybe she was raised in NYC and never learned to drive? I was scared/interested and tried to ask her a bit about it, but she laughed it off as just something that she was "working through". But hey, I can handle phobias, right? Hell I have a few myself! So off I went.
I pulled into her driveway and saw her standing there waiting. I could tell right away she was different. Not different in that fairy-tale-outta-a-dream kind of way. But different as in, neurologically speaking. My student nurse brain quickly ran through the possibilities...cerebral palsy? Spinal cord injury? Wow. The girl had a walker. That was a lot of information to process in the moment it took to pull into her driveway...Funny she had mentioned that she had recently lost her dog, 3 computers, a gas fireplace and a yoga mat...but not a WALKER. I mean, I have dated a girl in a wheelchair before AND HAD EVEN MENTIONED THAT TO HER - so you think she would have felt OK bringing it up. Nonetheless, I scooped her up and we went out to eat.
At the restaurant I remembered why it is so very very very important to talk on the phone with someone before agreeing to meet in person. This girl talked over me, told 20 minute long stories about her cousins and neighbors and favorite episodes of Law and Order and described in detail her gun collection. She told me over and over what a good listener I was as she detailed how Jimmy (not sure who he was) once got mad at Susan (maybe Susan was her sister?) but really he should have been mad at Christine because the trouble really started back in 1997 when they moved out of that crap-hole apartment into the city for a fresh start and...well I couldn't keep up and was silently imagining how I really had broken the cardinal rule of online dating. Do NOT agree to meet someone until you have heard the sound of their voice, their cadence when telling a story and the subtle back and forth of the conversational rhythm. But I had broken the rule and so now I had to sit and listen to poor Jimmy's woes (maybe Jimmy was her ex husband?! I thought I heard the word fiance a few minutes back).
After dinner I took her home and walked her inside... into her house...don't ask me why because I don't have an answer for you. Her home was of course covered in dog fur (though her dog had been dead for 3 months). There were literally 25 empty coke cans lining every horizontal surface of the den...as if they were trophies earned over the years. Both sectional couches were piled high with (what I hope was) clean laundry and the dust bunnies across the baseboards were plentiful enough to start a union and demand better living conditions.
Oh Hope, how you make me do things that defy all reason! Hope can make me throw caution to the wind and try over and over to find a human connection. Hope allows me to dream of walking hand in hand along the beach at sunset. But the reality of the world sits across from you at dinner and says "I just don't get how fat people aren't too embarrassed to eat in public" (yes she actually said that).
And somewhere in the universe Hope is giving a high-five to Bitterness and saying "OK, she's all yours now!"
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