Towards A New Horizon
Lost
I am
lost
Sea of uncertainty
Sahara of glass
Unmarked by
What has gone before
Clouded sky
No map or compass:
I weave my own
With bloody heartstrings
Torn beating out‑‑
Goddess weeps,
Fates spin and snip
The fabric knots and ravels
When will it be
Wrinkle free,
Womancheek smooth again?
Was it ever?
I sail on, adrift
But pulled, lost
Yet carried where I
Must be in this Now,
Given the gift of
Strength and tears
Time flies when you’re having fun. And the blog post I would have put up might not have been one you’d want to read. I’m more affected by the events in Connecticut than I thought possible, or perhaps it’s a cumulative effect. Whatever, haiku seems more peaceful today. Thus, I offer two regarding resolution. Moi is hosting this week, so go over and check out the other offerings. Be your own judge.
The Way beckons on,
Sore foot blocks pilgrim’s resolve.
One day, I’ll return.
Resolved in New Year,
Nine months to train, escape planned.
One hour victory.
Just in from the garden. I sat on the bench and let the slanting sun warm my face while I sipped my coffee. Most of the garden has alredy faded or in the process.
We brought the lemon tree in a couple of weeks ago. I love how the morning sun on the leaves makes the green in the room so much brighter.
That’s G’s latest quilting effort on the chair. It’s really amazing. I’ll post more pictures later. But back to the yard. There are still a couple of things around that insist on a last hurrah. There’s a calendula under the pergola that thinks it’s still midsummer:
And the hollyhock under the apple tree decided to offer up one last, perfect shout:
Yesterday, we went to the memorial service for a friend’s partner. I’ve known Ed for years, but hadn’t really been in touch with him for a long time, other than to see him out and about now and then. I confess I didn’t know that he had found the love of his life. He and Gus were planning a trip to New York to get married when Gus’ previously treated lymphoma came back with a vengeance and he died in a week. He was 40.
Most of the Pueblo “community” was at the service. Ed is well known and loved, and Gus touched many people during his relatively short time in town. I was able to reconnect with two good friends, Jeff and David, who I’ve been missing for a while. We all agreed we wished it had been under much better circumstances. Why does it always take something serious to happen close at hand to make you stop and count your blessings? That’s what this morning in the garden was. Everything has its season, but sometimes it feels like they are way too short. G and I didn’t stay for the dinner/reception afterwards (hadn’t known about it), but we chatted with Ed for a bit and made sure he had our card. I told him to please call us after everything had settled because that’s when the tough stuff happens. You can keep going through the flurry of activity around making arrangements and getting a memorial service together and handling family, etc., but then, the quiet happens, and what do you do then? My heart goes out to him.
We’ve talked about that in the last couple of months. Given different circumstances with the grandkids, we made some changes to our wills. We were in agreement about it, but still it sparked some–shall we say “discussions”. While we agree on a lot, G worries so much about what would happen after she’s gone. I don’t. I simply don’t. I will be gone and it won’t be my problem. I feel like I’ve made the best arrangements possible to make things very simple to handle. After that, everyone is on their own. Does that make me sound cold? I don’t know. I just know that when people die THEIR troubles are over. Those who remain go on however they can. But they don’t get any help from the departed other than inspiration and memories. Therefore, I can’t spend valuable time worrying about whether or not people will be all right without me. They will or they won’t. It’s entirely up to them.
G spends so much time worrying about how I would take care of the house, that I’d want to sell it, that I couldn’t deal with everything that “had to be done” to take care of it, get it ready for winter, etc., etc. I finally had to come down on her, hard. Just because I didn’t spend 12 hours a day running around “getting ready for winter” didn’t mean I didn’t care about the house. I told her I didn’t appreciate her assumptions about my lack of ability or caring. That she really had no idea what I could or couldn’t do because she already jumped up and did everything while I was working, so how could she know? It always bugs me when people assume they know what I’ll do or how I’ll react. They don’t. They can’t, because half the time I don’t even know myself. I don’t spend a lot of time anymore on thinking or focusing on what might or might not be. When/if something happens, I’ll handle it. That’s what I know. How doesn’t matter, just that I know I will. How do I know this? Because I always have.
Anyway, I didn’t mean to run off on that tangent, but once again, these events bring up thoughts like that. They remind us that we’re all living on borrowed time. It’s one of the reasons I refuse to become so invested in this awful political war that everyone seems to be so gleefully fighting. It isn’t that I don’t care, it’s simply that beyond voting, I really have no control over any of it. It’s not something that engages me at all. Some people would read that and be appalled. Too bad. Everyone is engaged by different things. I would rather stay close in Pueblo and work with people here to improve the city, work with local farmers, grow my garden, put up food. That engages me. The rest of this crap, I just tune it out. I honestly don’t feel there’ll be much difference regardless of who’s on the point of the pyramid. I’m happy on the bottom. There’s more room to breathe.
Death and politics. Both subjects can spark heated debate and discussion and no one really has control over either. People are political animals, I suppose. I often wonder what might happen in the world if we put the energy that we spend on arguing over who’s right in government into really doing something close at hand. What if we all just turned away from the national scene and spent our time getting to know the neighbors and how we could help each other instead of arguing about crap? Man, that might actually make a difference.
But, in the meantime, I’m just going to enjoy the fall weather here. I’m going to make moussaka today using part of that recipe and part of another one from my favorite Greek cookbook. Also, I won’t be using lamb, but a combination of ground beef and pork. G’s going to the gym. I should, but it’s my one full day off (I worked 4 hours yesterday) so I’m going to cook and then when she gets back, I’ll rototill the garden by the street and we’ll plant the seeds for our meadow next year.
Cooking and planting. That’s the best way I know for dealing with death and politics.
My Australian friend, Margaret Rainbow-Web, yes, that is her real name, has a quote on her side by a man named Robert Theobald. I admit to not knowing much about the man (but wanting to know more), but the quote has stuck with me for years:
“When information doubles, knowledge halves and wisdom quarters.”
Recently, I placed myself in a world of information overload. I found myself distracted nearly every moment at work (a place I really don’t need distraction from). I was Tweeting, Pinning, FaceBooking, e-mailing, texting. I had become, in a small sense, one of those people you see in commercials who can’t be away from their electronic gadgets for more than a few moments without having an anxiety attack. I realized I neither am nor want to be that person. At least, I maintained enough wisdom to know that.
I deleted my Pintrest account first. No worries, since I never really got that whole concept anyway. Today, I decided to deactivate my Twitter account. For a long time, I hardly tweeted at all, then I started getting some respones to my Tweets and I thought, “Oh, isn’t this fun, so and so thought enough of my words to respond or share.” (so and so being a couple of folks in “the media”). Then I realized I was checking Twitter on my silly little dumb phone and making sure I had the phone with me all the time, and checking it first thing in the morning, “just in case.” Oh, man. What a wake up call.
I’ve been using all this as an excuse. An excuse to distract myself from my job, which depends on me being focused and in the moment at all times. Yes, I can take breaks, no problem. But when my paycheck really starts to suffer because I can’t stop commenting on Facebook, that is not cool. At all.
I haven’t decided whether or not I want to get completely drastic and close my FB account. I probably won’t because what has been really nice is getting back in touch with classmates and other college/past friends and seeing what they’re up to. And with the boys in Denver, it’s an easy way to see what’s up with them (though I think they’ve lost their phones, so hardly post at all). I enjoy that and I enjoy the repartee on some subjects. Others, not so much. The whole chicken sandwich thing really got me down for a couple of days (and yes, I know it’s not about chicken sandwiches, but I’m not using the name for my own purposes). I realized I am better off when I don’t put myself into those kinds of over-hyped controversies. Sharing and re-tweeting, and commenting and having to moderate comments–all that stuff. Not good for me.
So. I’ve decided to take some time back. Obviously, I’m keeping the blog because this really is my space. I get to say 100% what goes in and what doesn’t. I’ll still be writing, but I’m going to try to stay positive. And I’m going to go back to my meditation cushion, that I’ve stepped away from for far too long. If I’m going to start an exercise routine to help my body, might as well start a routine to help my spirit/soul, too, right? Maybe in the morning, maybe before bed, maybe in the middle of the day. Hell, some days maybe all of the above. After all, my daughter just told me she’s pregnant again.
Didn’t see that coming, did ya?
The boys just left for Denver. We had a good week. We went swimming, fishing, to the library, driving in the mountains, cooked out a lot on the grill, hung out, watched movies, played games. Of course GS2 had to get cranky because he wanted to take his soccer ball with him and G had to lecture him, and so what might have been sweet was turned sour. They all drove off without looking back. I think that’s the tag line of being American. We leave without looking back.
Right now I don’t know how to feel. I’m relieved that my daughter won’t be in borrowing distance now, sad that the boys are going to be that far away now that they’re really getting fun, more than a little pissed at G because she pretty much dismissed me down here when I came back into the house after the car drove off. I decided to take the rest of the day off and make up the time later, because I thought we could just hang out and be gentle with each other, but I didn’t even get a chance to say that and after the short tone, I didn’t even want to tell her. She’s upstairs scouring, scrubbing, sanitizing–one because PEOPLE HAVE BEEN IN THE HOUSE, but also because that’s how she’s going to handle it. I get it. She has to stay busy. I just want to curl up and weep for so many reasons.
GS1 made no bones about the fact that he would rather stay here and live with us. I get that. I also know that once he gets up there and makes some friends, that will probably change. I reminded him about our conversation we had before he started middle school. He said, “It’s going to be so hard.” I said no, it was going to be different and after he got used to it, it would be easy. And it was. Sixth grade can be really hard, but he had a good year. This will be similar. He’s got an easygoing nature and a sense of humor. People like him. He’ll be fine. GS2 is more his mama’s boy, so wherever she is, he wants to be. She said she thought there was a large K-8 or K-12 school just three blocks from the new place. If that’s the case, then they can walk, which will be a blessing. And she’s quite close to the new job she’ll be starting tomorrow. She actually put some thought into this. I can’t argue with her wanting to have a better opportunity, more things for the kids to do, better schools, etc. That’s all good. Even missing the boys is all right. We go up to Denver enough, so we’ll be able to see them and then when they come down here to visit, it’ll be a real treat.
I’m still teary-eyed but writing helps. Writing always helps because I can write the things I’m too choked up to say. I just don’t know what’s going on between G and me. The other night, when I was afraid maybe my daughter wasn’t going to show up, I finally get into bed, looking forward to a moment’s peace before I fall asleep and she asks me, “So if you had to support those two boys, what would you do?” I was like, NOW?? You have to ask me this NOW? Honestly, I don’t know what I would do, but I would manage. I have always managed. I would figure it out somehow and I guess if I had to move out and be on my own, I would. Maybe I’ve become too complacent, too dependent on her extra income. Maybe I need to suck it up, go work at a call center, snarf up to the corporate tit, play the game, blabber the jargon, move up the ladder, all that good bullshit. If I put my soul on hold, I could be managing a damn call center in less than a year. I know statistics, I can motivate people, I’m good at all that meaningless crap. I just don’t want to do it. It’s that simple. But, maybe that’s what this time, this week, this particular transition, is telling me. I didn’t move out from Dean until my daughter moved in with her then BF, so maybe it’s a pattern. I don’t WANT to move out. I don’t feel like G and I are really in that kind of crisis, I think we’re as solid as ever, but sometimes when she asks me those kinds of questions I do, because it’s like she’s saying, Hey, if that does happen, you’re on your own. I’m just confused. Would she kick me out? What? I’m confused and sad right now and not motivated and I ABSOLUTELY HATE HOT WEATHER which makes everything I’m feeling worse by a factor of 10.
So, I’m going to fall back on what has helped me in the last couple of weeks. I’m going to make some decisions. First, I’ve decided not to work for the rest of the day. Second, I’m going to clean up around my desk/office area, dust and get organized. Yeah, don’t faint. After that, I’ll see what happens. And maybe I’ll get an email from the boys later. In the meantime, at least the top of the house will be immaculate by the time I get up there.
I’m still here, I’m still queer…oh, wait, wrong slogan for the moment. However, I am still here but my daughter is in the throes of moving to Denver (she starts a new job on the 23rd) and we have the boys for the week. I wasn’t all that thrilled (a WEEK), but they have become more self suffient during their summer at home, and regardless of other things I am EXTREMELY grateful to have a flexible job and to be at home. So, starting out the week with some gratitude feels good. We cooked out last night and plan more stuff. Sadly GS1 got some really bad road rash on his torso when he fell off his skateboard a couple days ago, so I don’t know if he can get in the pool. I’m doctoring it with lavender and hoping in a couple days he’ll be acceptable. So, I’ll be a bit out of pocket due to that, but think of all the phots that might follow! I’ll leave you with one of our beet/sweet potato chips that we made in the oven and dehydrator. They turned out more like jerky than chips but both were yummy.
Have a great week. I’ll be back soon…
It’s a rare day in June–cool and cloudy. The mourning doves are loud through the windows and there’s a poor robin dying on the back porch. I’m alone in the house. I can’t remember the last time that happened when I wasn’t working, to be completely alone in this space, the yard, the house, the weather cooperating with my love of overcast. All the planets must be in perfect alignment in just this exact moment. There are at least a hundred things I could be doing right now, but here I am, writing about how happy I am to be alone.
It’s true. I love the life that G and I have created together but in my deepest, secret heart, I know that I will always be the absolute happiest with only my own company. So significant other, no pet, no friend, no relative. Living, being, dealing with other people is the hardest work I do. I suppose it’s worth it most of the time, but there are moments like this, a pause in the need always to be aware of an other, the presence, the needs, the demands, when I can absolutely relax. My soul can breathe, relax, unfold. I can do it almost as well but going out by myself, biking to the library, going to a movie, etc., but it’s not the same as being at home alone. G went fishing with a friend today, and so I get the gift of the house to myself.
It’s been a tough few weeks. Not just with Peaches going, but other relationship stuff, family stuff, the usual stuff. I don’t like stuff. I prefer to go my own way and let others do the same. It doesn’t mean I don’t care, but if I’m going to practice what I preach about not giving attention to the things I don’t want, then I can’t focus on the things I don’t want. I can’t always be thinking about what might or could happen in a situation. I have to turn away, look in another direction. It’s very difficult, a hard habit to break, a lifetime, nearly, of putting everything that everyone else wants in front of what I want, which really is just peace and quiet. It’s times like this that I finally think I understand my father and why, when he was at home, he mostly slept. G talks about it, but when it comes to doing it, sometimes she just can’t. She has to advise, lecture, preach, just focus, focus, focus on what everyone SHOULD be doing. Why should they? Because if everyone did what SHE thought they should do, SHE would feel better. She came down on me again about my daughter and I was really blindsided because I have been doing (I thought) a really good job about not focusing on her financial situation (mine is quite enough to focus on, thank you), not worrying about the boys (mostly staying home alone this summer–she got a job), not giving money, not, not, not doing the things that I thought were what we agreed I needed not to do.
Then, suddenly, BAM! Why didn’t I care? Why was I so nonchalant? How could I just say, Oh, well, it will be fine? Of course a number of beers were involved, but I didn’t bring that up. I felt beaten up, betrayed, confused, any number of things. You can’t have it both ways. I can’t turn my focus away to other things and keep it on negative stuff at the same time. And now, I can’t say anything about money, it seems, but she goes right to the fact that I’m giving money to the boys, to my daughter, whatever, but not doing for me. I’m not doing it, but I can’t seem to convince her of that. Anything not done for me is taking away from me and given to them. But what’s to do for me? I don’t need anything. I don’t need new clothes, I don’t need any electronic gadgets, I don’t buy books, we have plenty of food. Yes, sure I’d love to travel, whatever, but hello, I’m working, and I’m not getting vacation right now, so that’s out of the question, money or no money. I used a credit card for the first time in nearly year, to take GS1 to a movie and dinner for his birthday, that sent her right off. I think I’m a really easy person to get along with but then something like this happens and it makes me wonder. I’ve dealt with her household quirks and her PTSD and all her health problems and I think (I’m pretty sure) that I’ve never blamed her for any of it, and encouraged her and stepped up when I needed to and stood back when I had to and she’ll be the first person to say how far she’s come and how much I’ve helped her, but what about me? Who gets ME? Ever?
I do. Period.
So I’m taking this pause. I’m sitting with myself. I’m staring out the window and letting my thoughts wander. I’m breathing and saying a prayer for the little bird outside the door. And writing this, accepting all my weirdness and hers.
It’ll be all right. And in a few weeks or months, maybe I’ll get another pause.
Peaches is failing fast. G has been trying to tempt her to eat and she tries, but then just has to go outside and throw up, which takes even more out of her. I have begged her (G) just not to feed her. If she wants something, she’ll let us know. She drinks water. She lies in the sun and moves to the shade. She’s very frail but mentally still present. However, I don’t think she’ll make it into June. Please keep good thoughts. Thank you.
There are days
When I wish
I could go
To a doctor or
A mad scientist,
Sit myself down
In their chair,
Give myself over
To them as I once did
To you.
I would tell them,
“Put me on your machines,
Twist your dials,
Lay me open,
Vivisect me.”
As I think
Of you.
See? There–
The places in my mind,
Illuminated, irradiated.
As I relive
The memories of us
Refuse to fade.
Thirty years like as many minutes.
“Look,” I would say,
“See?” Those places, there,
Tag the shining spaces
With your isotopes,
Target them, and with one
Simple touch–deft finger on
A magic button, vaporize them
Out of me, release my obsessed soul
From this eternal packrat bondage.
What would it feel like then?
To lie down at night,
Thinking as always, of you
Your lips, your fingers,
Your voice in my ear.
What would it be
To sleep, and dream of you
One last time, and then,
In the morning, wake and
Have you more than gone?
Have you never been.
Would it be relief?
Instantaneous, subcutaneous.
Would I feel a weight lifted,
Something shifted that I
Never knew was there?
Or would my rebellious body
Telegraph your touch
Across itself, like
A bad itch, twitching
Over my skin, reminding,
Still binding, demanding
Complete attention until,
Despite all technology
To the contrary,
You came back?
Would have been her 80th.
Grumpy Granny 