Margaritas and Memories

So this week, I had dinner (and margaritas) with my friend Sue. We hadn't seen each other in about 5 years and it's probably 30 years since we had an opportunity to have a real conversation. 

We have always been as different as night and day - Sue is outgoing and competitive and athletic - I am none of those things.  She has two brothers, I'm an "only." She grew up in a large, loving, crazy Italian family.  I loved going to her home because there was always noise and laughter there - the sounds of family, the sounds of love.  My family was much smaller, quiet and not very expressive - there weren't many smiles there.

But, our personalities seemed to complement each other. We shared a sense of wonder and imagination (we once saw a UFO - honest!) - and we planned to one day open a Girl Detective Agency.  Our time together was punctuated by laughter.

By the time we entered high school, we'd already started to head in separate directions.  I went off to a magnet Art School and Sue's natural athletic talent took her into the sports arena.

After college, we headed off in different directions - and then,  two weddings, one birth, one and a half divorces and all the other things that life throws at you.

I wasn't sure what to expect - would we have anything in common after all these years apart?

The fun-loving girl with the irrepressible laugh who wore my pink high-tops under her wedding gown is still there - but she's grown into a strong, passionate, socially conscious woman who is determined to make this world a better place.

I love Sue - she's the closest I've ever had to a sister.  And now that I see the amazing woman she's grown into, I have developed a whole new respect for the person that she is.

She makes me want to get my shit together and finish that second book I've been poking at (and avoiding) for years - and finish every other unfinished project I've started over the last decade.

She makes me want to be a better person.

I think that's the best thing one friend can do for another. 

Here comes the Bride...

"Let go or be dragged"

When I was a child, I lost all of the people closest to me within the space of one year.  Consequently, I've always had a difficult time letting go of people.  Even those who were toxic and hurtful and damaging. I clung to them fiercely because my biggest fear was being left alone.
Over the past several weeks I have reconnected with some old friends that I'd lost touch with.  They reminded me that my personhood isn't lost, she's simply been buried for a long time. 

The Me I once was

Yes, that was me at age 26. She was an individual - a person. She was bright and loving and strong and wild and brave. Most of all, she was fearless.  And I miss her.

I see now that what I once believed was a safety net, was actually an anchor dragging me down.  Because I was too afraid to let go.

So this is me... letting go. 

It may take me a while to dig my way out, but I intend to fly.

A sign of Spring

Of all the plantings in my garden, this one blossomed before any other. The sight of it made me smile and  hit me like a warm hug. 

She loves me

She is still there... no matter what. And that brings me a sense of security and hope for the future. No matter what, life goes on. 

So even though I probably won't be living here next year, I will still tend to the garden as long as I am here. Hopefully, whoever lives here next will do the same. 

If not, they will just have to be whipped into shape by Mistress Mother Nature. 

Straight up - hold the Snark

Top Shelf - Straight up 

This is perhaps the most difficult post I've ever had to write. I'm so much better at the funny, snarky bites. But I need to say this without sarcasm or jokes.

Here it is, the unvarnished truth.

Sparky and I are splitting up. Things came to a head back in January and after almost 30 years together, we've decided to divorce. Those of you who know me well know that I am a fiercely private person. I do not wish to air (or have aired by others) my dirty laundry in public. Quite frankly, only the two of us truly know the truth and those of you who've heard stories have only heard one side.  There are two sides to every story and the truth generally lies somewhere in the middle.

Out of respect for my son, I'm not going to publish details of our marriage or it's demise here.  It's really no one's business but ours. Let's just say that this is the best thing for all of us.

As for me, after the dust settled, I was forced to take a good honest look at my life and admit that I haven't been happy for a very, very long time.  The initial feelings of panic and devastation passed quickly and were replaced by a huge sense of relief.  Pretending things are perfect takes an enormous amount of energy.

To my friends and family, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lied to you for so many years. I'm sorry I didn't allow myself to trust enough to ask for help. I hope you know that I kept everyone at arm's length not because I didn't trust you - I didn't trust that I was deserving of your love or friendship.  I am learning to reach out (baby steps) and have found the support and love of my friends is there - was always there. I was just too afraid to ask. I owe you all (especially you, Laura) my eternal gratitude and love.

To my son, I'm sorry that I couldn't give you the perfect life I so wanted for you. However, every day when I look at you and see the strong, loving, creative and brilliant man you've grown into, I know that despite the fact that your father and I failed each other, we can take pride in the knowledge that we were successful as parents.  Despite our faults, we have managed to raise an amazing son.

And that, my friends, is what's going on.  We're still in the process of working out all the details (amazing how much stuff and business you accumulate in 28 years) but things are moving along in a relatively civilized manner.

One thing is not negotiable.

I get custody of the Bear.

/snark on