Transitions

This is in memory of my 50's. They're gone and buried and so I begin a new decade of life. Forty was difficult; fifty a bit harder, but sixty...sixty came and knocked the wind out of my sails. The mirror tells tales along with my joints. There are more changes overall than at any other point in my adult life.
I am drawn the to song "It Was a Very Good Year," where Sinatra sings "I'm in the autumn of my life." I have always loved that song for the "musicality" of it but the poignancy of the words always touched me and made me feel blue, even when I was much younger. Even more so at this stage of the game. The same is true of "September Song." Seasons come and seasons go but we're only given one shot at each in the game of life. We have to make them count!

A Light at the End of the Tunnel?

Well, we're here. I am now officially living in a mobile home park and the world hasn't ended. I am surrounded by mountains of boxes and possessions that need to be put away. This place is shabbier than it looked because of all of the previous owner's belongings. The carpet is not as new as it appeared, the floors in the bathrooms and kitchen will definitely need to be replaced sooner and not later, and the kicker is: no funds to do so.

In spite of my whining about inconsequential things like flooring, I have a home - a place to lay my head at night. I just caught a look at my dog, Katie, who's laying at my feet, sound asleep. She has her head laying on one of her "babies," (stuffed animal toy) using it as a pillow. When I think about it, the two dogs are more fortunate than people living in Darfur and other areas of this world. They have a home, too.

All things in proper perspective and in due time.

Moving Day Approacheth

We're down to the last seven days. Friday and Saturday I cut myself loose from "things" that have been keeping me tied down; things that I thought I had to keep in order to keep my family and relatives presence near; things that have been in the family for decades; things I no longer want.

There is freedom in cutting oneself loose from the burden of being the keeper of "things." I hold in my heart the presence of those who gave me life and those before them. I want to be unencumbered of the things I have brought into my life that create a museum of treasures that were once purchased and handled by my family members. It's time.

I watched people buy my grandmother's and great-grandmother's things for a song. Let someone else enjoy them. I've had so many treasures that a lot have been packed away out of sight, only to be seen when a move occurs. What sort of caretaker have I been? A hoarder, basically. I have kept a few things that will go with me; my children have chosen a few things as well. but the majority of items have gone on to new homes to be viewed, handled and enjoyed.

Our treasures are not of this earth, they are in heaven, lest I forget.

Sabotage

I wonder how old I was when I began to sabotage myself. When did I decide to hide myself behind a nice layer of fat? When did I decide to hide behind a serious exterior? I waited until I was well into my fifties to lose 130 lbs., when the "bloom was off the rose." I never thought of this until now. I had a near-miss once, a near-fling and it scared the devil out of me (or should I say into me!). Was my inability to lose weight and keep it off a way to keep myself out of trouble? Was I that unsure of myself? Am I so shallow that I'd leap at the chance with another man? So I kept the fat around my body as insulation against making my body alluring?
Sabotage.

I became attractive again and the feeling was giddy except the only men looking were as old as dirt. Well, for the most part anyway...I was safe. I'm far from beautiful but I'm not exactly a wildebeest either. I have never learned to be sexy or to flirt. I'm very comfortable with men - in fact, I prefer the company of men to the majority of women. Men usually have more on their minds than their children. I know how that sounds but women are usually not intellectually stimulating. That sounds arrogant, haughty, and misogynistic.

I admit it's true and I learned it from my mother. She didn't have girlfriends. Her only feminine companionship were her employees, some of whom she cared for deeply, but she wasn't into the bonding thing. Life, for her, revolved around my dad and brother. Women bored her. And didn't I know it! I've had to learn to like the company of women. The women I worked with usually were very busy bashing their husbands (I don't play that game) or talking incessantly about their children (once in awhile is okay, but a break, please!) and I'd rather talk about world events and politics. Is it a wonder I don't have many friends??? Sabotage.

I read something today that gave me grief. I realized that I have lost so much of who I used to be. Where did I go and why did I leave? I was never the life of the party but I was always one to have a good time. I used to be daring and feckless, writing letters to friends, addressed to "Lusty Flesh and the Four Skins," a name I made up for the occasion. In high school we used to go to the old Long Beach Pike (where they had the old wooden roller coaster out right by the water), and go to the "freak show" and heckle the barkers. My folks would've freaked themselves had they known! It's also where the sailors hung out. I never went without my male cousins...I used to smoke cigars with them. Their dads were doctors and they were good kids. We never got drunk or smoked pot - just good Cubans.

I was always ready for fun. My girlfriends and I took three years of French and would go around Disneyland "speaking" French as though we were natives and pretended to be tourists. We always went home with our stomachs sore from constant laughing over the silly things we were always doing.

And then life interrupted. I allowed my life and the events therein to "sour me." If I keep it up, I'll be an old lady who frowns at little kids and terrifies puppies! Heaven forbid! I have got to go hunting for the old me, the one who found sick humor in just about everything. I want to be the 100 year old woman who whacks the crap out of the young kid who tries to rip off her purse but smiles at him while he's running away.

Pretend

I would like to stand at the base of these falls and let the moist, cool water fall over my head and calm my spirit. It was so hot today and I did nothing but pace today like a horse that had sniffed the air and knew it needed to be somewhere important but had no one to take it from the corral and began to snort and paw at the ground. Impatience ran through me but I couldn't channel my energy in order to accomplish anything. That makes my stomach churn and my temples throb.

I know what needs to be done but I want to run away. Escape the responsibilities of packing and another garage/moving sale. I'm selling the majority of my furniture and will not have the money to replace it. The window that needs to be replaced has jumped to $800 - the original estimate was $485. It could've been much worse - we could've had termites or some such.

Now that the house is sold, I just want it to be over with...I don't want to linger here any longer.
We have less than three weeks left to finish repairs, organize a garage sale and move. And we're expected to break a record tomorrow for high temperatures - 95 degrees. It's been so cool and comfortable...

I want to slide into that pristine pool of water, let the waters rush over my head and pretend everything is just fine.

Soulless

Soulless

I poke my finger in my eye
to hide the fact I want to cry;
the tears run down my face like rain
and hide the fact I live in pain;
I live in fear and walk in night
because I have turned out the light;
I cannot face what I do not see
hoping all bad things will flee;
but faceless demons fill the hole
that I have left within my soul.
---gracie

Blue Sunday

Today was Easter, the celebration of the resurrection of Christ. I didn't go to church - haven't been in some time. My family is displeased with me even though I don't go very many places any more.

Yesterday, we went with our realtor to look at mobile homes. We found one that will work just fine but it's going to be a squeeze financially. I'm quite content because it has a small, very beautiful back yard. I need greenery for my soul.

Right after we returned home yesterday, I got smacked with a horrible migraine. The stress is mounting, and so will, I'm afraid, my migraines. Even with my meds it hung around all day and into Monday a.m.

I never heard from any of my children today. Easter used to be such a wonderful day! Beautiful new clothes for everyone, a wonderful sermon, a family dinner and hunting Easter eggs. Today, it was a lousy headache and self-loathing . When the kids were little my aunt used to always fix me a basket, too. She'd toss in a necklace and earrings or some perfume. Easter always meant love of family and most importantly, love of Christ for us, His church.

I used to love Easter for the solemnity of the service and then the joy of the resurrection story.
Why doesn't it bring me joy now? I still believe, I will always believe...but I have no joy in my heart. I tried to put on a brave face, I wished others a "blessed Easter, " and I meant it but I cannot apply the sentiment to myself, no matter how hard I try. Even reading the account in the scriptures didn't spark the usual flame.

I watched some of the Fox special on Jesus - the new one wasn't too bad but my guilt is too much to bear right now. My depression is decreasing again, may need an adjustment on meds. I have forty days left in my home. This change is scaring me - is it the right thing to do? I'm sure that's why I'm typing with my eyes closed because the light hurts my eyes too much and my thoughts are so fragmented. I feel the spiral beginning and it feels as though it may spin out of control. Again. But I have to be strong. And I don't want to. I just want to slide down into the softness and stay there. I don't want to be me anymore but I will go on because it is required of me. Even though I hear my family says they love me but why was I alone today...I don't understand.

Dear Lord in Heaven, I thank you for the sacrifices you have made for me, your humble servant.