Saying "I love you"

If you knew you were saying "I love you" for the last time, would it taste different?  Would you add more to it or just keep it simple?

My last week has been one of tremendous highs and lows.  I spent Thanksgiving with the people who make my heart sing.  I will forever reflect on my photographs and smile.  It brings such an overwhelming feeling of bliss that I wish I could bottle it and open it up on Christmas Day because I know this feeling is a rarity.  For my one split second, stars aligned and everyone was agreeable.  It was beyond any version of perfect that Martha Stewart could hope to ever glitter or glue gun together.  It was my first major holiday with my first & only grand child.  I cannot tell you what the turkey tasted like or what dishes I prepared.  It is all just a warm, fuzzy blur.  My memories are filled with laughter.  I was giggling and giddy.  My home and heart were full.

I went last Tuesday to visit friends.  I got beautiful hugs.  There are people who make you feel truly welcome and seem genuinely happy to pass time with you.  We usually share Thursday night dinners with such people.  We had so many laughs.  When you meet people who are larger than life and in true love, it makes you happy to be in their company.  I have such friends in this Thursday night group.  I am certain those words that passed between lovers became a simple daily habit.  One particular couple was on a permanent honeymoon.  We lost one of them last night to a stroke.  My heart breaks as I remember his grace and laugh.  He was a wonderful man.  We will miss him and toast his memory.

I save every card, text message, letter and email where someone tells me they love me.  They help validate my existence on Earth. They make my soul feel complete.  When I am at my loneliest and darkest points, those little words carry me back to the light.  They nourish my inner beauty and make me whole.  I invest a lot in those 3 little words.  I am a hopeless romantic.  I am a simple creature.

I am never quick to tell people that I love them.  I have only fallen in love twice in this lifetime.  Those are words that are given a higher regard in my "Book of Life".  I have a great fondness for people.  I have always been very selfish with telling someone I love them.  It isn't a callous line or feeling.  It means so much more to me.  I rarely write it. I sign my cards in a sentimental way because I feel telling someone that I love them sounds silly and almost common.  When I say it, write it or convey it.....it is for always.  It will be the last words that pass from my lips to someone's heart.  They are words that every heart should hear. I hope mine are heard by someone who loves me in return and can remember me as sunshine in their heart.

Monday, Material Things and Messages

I know for most of the world, Monday is a chore.  It is a 5 mile wait in a blocked traffic lane when you have to pee.

For me, Monday is a blessing. My last 2 weeks were a happy, delirious (sometimes painful) blur. I am not counting postop.

Last Monday, I had to be hospitalized and after some minor drama....finally got help to get things remedied immediately.  It didn't matter who I knew or how much I hurt.  Some doctors are immune to people in pain.  Luckily I knew a man who could help. I was desperate and hurting.  I was out of faith.  I got a phone call that changed my frame of mind.  I got a text message that instilled courage.  I made a phone call that changed my fate.  Sometimes the smallest messages come from inside, from a book or a text message.  Don't second guess your gut feeling. Ever.

How often do we hang on to material things only to find that they do not really exist?
My father jokes that after my mother passes away, everything in it becomes my sister's & my inheritance.  We tell him no, we don't want it.  I deplore rummaging through old things.  I love the treasure hunt but not the smell.  I don't want the flood of memories that come from tangible objects.  Memories have a way of tricking the heart.  They also trick the mind into thinking you need things or have room to store things you will never need again. Sometimes it is bests to just let go.  You have to give yourself permission to grieve lost loved ones and let go.

I recently attended my high school reunion.  It was bliss.  I noticed that the mean girls from high school had become nice and vice versa.  How funny.  I am fortunate that everyone knows me from school because I have not changed much. My old boyfriend even knew me without a name tag.  I wish I had dodged that bullet but it was nice to reconnect with old friends.  Out of everyone in my class, I only had 2 old friends I had not been able to find.  They showed up and we had a blast talking about old times.  I learned lessons that were never taught in school.  People change.  Time, money, and life change you.  It cannot be helped.  Some change for the better but some don't.  There is no meter to gauge which way some people tilt but if you trust your intuition and tread lightly, you can figure it out.  You have to give yourself permission to grieve old friendships and let go.

I wish I could assemble all of my old friends and we could just laugh like we did when we were kids.  I am glad for Facebook. It helps me achieve just that without the hassle of a TSA pat-down.

Get out there and find old friends.  If you have old enemies, leave them a howdy.  You don't have to be their daily victim but clearing your air makes the skies of your life brighter.
Letting go is a healing and beautiful thing.

Clarification and Validation

Labeling friends and friendships becomes a little tricky in my life.  I have friends who I really don't care to describe, much less have to validate to a total stranger.

In recent months I have had to do just this and it seems a little degrading.  Almost trivial. I have to explain myself and the existence of a relationship.  Why?

I have heard several people talk about the Democratic National Convention coming to town next week.  It is costing people their jobs.  They are being asked to stay at home because their credentials do not pass the test of the Secret Service so they have been told to not report for work during this week.  This can only be described as humiliating.  For whatever reason, you do not meet the criteria to serve drinks to sloppy drunks during this one week when tips are guaranteed to be at their highest.  Stick it to the little guy.

When everyone gets credit for the same job you do, it stings.  When people don't do their job and you get passed over for an award or promotion, it really stings.  It downright hurts.  It changes you in ways you never heal from.
You shy away from doing what you do. You put yourself in your protective shell and try to deflect anything painful.  It is a healing process.

My dear friend had to experience this very thing in the past week and it is a painful experience I wish he could have been spared.
He says he is an ass.  Some days he is an ass but he is my ass so it is accepted.  Being the professional he is, he works harder than anyone in his line of work.  The people he works with see this but they are busy watching their bottom line.  He cleans up other people's mistakes and still outperforms the rest of them.

When I have to deal with someone who does not have this drive or passion, it creates problems.  I want to strangle them. I have realized that,in a way, I am his creation.  We are in 100% professional mode 24/7.
If I could find the person responsible for taking his chance away at this coveted award, I would run them over with my car....and then get out and spit on them. (This is just me venting so don't check the newspapers) It is just unfair.

You protect those you care about in different forms.  I am passionate about my family and friends.  I shouldn't have to explain myself.  I think I have reached the point that unless an affidavit is needed, I won't.

I Hear An Ocean Calling My Name

After careful observation, it has been noted (ahem) that my presence on here has been lacking.  It were as if I had decided to run away from my problems and leave everything far behind.  If only life were that easy to deceive.....
I went to the edge of the world and it still wasn't far enough away.  I left everything behind except one small suitcase.  What is all this "stuff" here?
When I visit older relatives and see all the things they care for and cherish......are they holding on to possessions?  No.  They are holding on to memories.
I keep old cards and photographs.  I relive life on my cell phone and on my camera.  I re-read old text messages and emails.  These are a source of uplift and heartache.  They are my anchors.  Some days, they are my chains.

I found some profound wisdom sitting in a theatre...uttered by a character in the midst of blahblahblahing..... that the mind lives in the past.  It is selective in what it cares to remember and play in but the heart is forced to live in the present....here and now.

Earlier in the week, I was invited to watch a video about how to gain 10 extra years in your life.  5 things that people end up regretting on their death-bed is killing us all.  It was profound.  Then the 5 things that people who have had a post-tramautic GROWTH did 5 things that counteracted the 5 death-bed regrets. Sadly, I live in the post-tramatic growth phase of life.  I say sadly because everyone around me is afraid to live. They are too busy being regretful and losing out on their 10 years of gained life that you are suppose to garner when you follow the steps.  If some of these people are given 10 years extra, they will just make themselves miserable or make others around them so....someone will kill them.  They needn't worry about how to spend those 10 extra years.
I often fantasize about how and with whom I would spend these years.  It never goes like..."Hey, I could go to Walmart." No. Mine is more along the lines of "I want to see the sun set and the sun rise on someone and know that I have made a difference in their life." Or "I hope my kids find every ounce of happiness that is available in life and beyond."

The only material thing I have ever wished for personally was a new computer and only because in my line of "work", it would make my life so much easier since I spend hours in a week cussing at this laptop.  I keep hoping for an Apple Fairy.

I hear an ocean calling my name and therefore, am heeding the call.  If anything should ever happen to me, I have asked to be cremated and my ashes scattered at sea.  Then I can be a real mermaid.  I won't need the Mac then.

Left Behind

In an interesting turn of conversations, someone made the comment that we were the one's left behind when someone passes away. 

We hold on to precious memories and wonder if there is more meaning to these things? Just going through the motions of our daily lives.....still clutching the volumes of things that serve as reminders of a life that "once was".  This is and always will be our cross to bear.  We, as survivors, have a responsibility to those we hold dear and envelope in our hearts. 
Like an old bandage, we smooth the edges back down.  It hurts to just rip that wound open but life does it without even the slightest care.  People say you should move on.  You should not dwell on these things. 

Misery is part of the suffering and, as humans, we suffer greatly. 

Healing is the place of comfort in your memories where you can cope with being "left behind". 

I don't mind being left behind.  Most of the people in my life know exactly how I stand and their place in my life.  To quote the movie "Casper": "I have no unfinished business".   I have always tried to make sure that I loved and lived with passion.  Not "screaming from the top of my lungs" passion....but the kind that helps you smooth out the rough edges on the bandage of your heart and lets you know my shoulder is here to lean upon.

Go out and do the same.  Right now. 

Life hurts.  If our love's could see us wasting tears on them, they would fuss.  They wouldn't allow one drop.  Listen to that voice and live.

Life is, after all, for the living. 

Soul Mate

Heart Sleeves

My recent trip to Maryland held so much wonder for me.  I had old/new friends to meet and hug.  Places I had never seen before.  I just wanted it to be perfect.  I rarely get to go anywhere out of the usual circuit that requires looking at a map or packing a lunch...much less figure out how to tip a door man.

When I realized I may lose sight in my right eye, there was a list a mile long of memories left to be made.  Things left to be seen.  Some things I wish I had never seen but you have to take the bad with the good.  Like watching the busboy clean a lady's shoe at the Hard Rock Cafe.  At the table.  With a rag he probably wiped another table down with afterwards.  True story.  Sorry.

My first pang: realizing there was not enough time to do it all....missing Sam Miller's band.  My sincerest apologies, Sam.  We parked the car & it did not move until we left to head home Monday.  If I had known how large Maryland was, I would have planned to stay an extra day.  On the map, it looks drivable.  On the map, Norfolk looks like a cakewalk.  I am easily fooled.


I finally met Bill Woodard. He is a lot nicer than the one I knew here. 

Time slips by so quickly when you are with friends.  Seeing Karen after too many years....she still looks the same.  Karen will always be the same. I like that stability in her.  I hope her mother is tortured daily when she realizes how awful she treated Karen when we were growing up.  I hope her mother ends up in a retirement home where they forget to take her to the bathroom.  Me, bitter? Never. 
 
I had the best crabcake ever. Melanie needs to share the recipe.  Hint hint.


Time....being with people who felt like my oldest & dearest friends....it was like I had landed in a soft and welcoming spot.  Watching Kenny be Kenny.  Bruce & Gregg discussing whatever it was they were discussing.  Watching Dina own the damn room.  If anyone has never seen a woman walk with swag: she has it.  She is a true force of nature.  Being with Kelly is like being the little sister....just a sweet shoulder to lean on.  When we told her it was 12:30 am, she did not believe us. We went off to search for breakfast (on a ship) that turned out to be crab casserole (on a ship).  No pancakes, sorry Bruce.

Time....we missed the last water taxi back to the Inner Harbor so we had to pay to ride in the Taxi of Death.  It was the longest ride of my entire life. After we almost hit the pedestrian, I just closed my eyes and prayed that I would not have to beat the fake African driver to death with my shoe.  I am certain it would have been justified.  

The only thing I knew for certain about the weekend was that I was going to see dolphins.  At the aquarium.  Even if it was the last thing on earth I did, I was going to see a dolphin.  Yes, I have seen them before in the wild.  Lots of times.  But this was different.  These were dolphins that do flips. Yes, I know. I am easy to please.

I am a passive observer in life.  I watch people. I see the world and reflect back through the lens of my camera.  I capture a memory and savor it.  You may not realize how just the simplest glint of dew sparkles and shines.  Flower pictures still smell fragrant when I see them.  Food pictures are a comfort to me.  I remember the laughter and the clinking of glasses being lifted to wish each other health and happiness.  They are but memories preserved, forever.



Warning: This latter part is me venting so if you want to stop reading, now would be a good time.  
On Sunday, we were sitting in a pretty spiffy place, having lunch, rehashing the nights events.  We were laughing and having such a great time.  It was perfect.... until I received the text message.  Just the essence of malice and hatred from it almost broke my heart.  For someone to have HAD that much abusive and narcissistic power in my life was a true eye opener.  I work really hard at everything I do.  I work hard for everyone else.  Needing to justify one small part of my life to anyone will never, ever happen again.  I have family and true friends who care. I have family and true friends who love me and who protect me.  You tried to ruin my one brief trip when I took a selfish moment for myself.  Shame on you.   I know this will fall on deaf ears and eyes.  Yes, I wear my heart on my sleeve.  Perhaps it should just be "Shame on me" for ever having entrusted anything of me to you. 

Colors

After this weeks eye scare, I was faced with wondering "what-if"?  

I suffered a retinal aneurysm maybe due to high blood pressure or diabetes or just a random spike in awesomeness.  If that last one were true, I could expect it to happen again.

I was left wondering what would be the things I would miss? My life relies completely on vision and color. I couldn't play on my fabulous iPhone. I would never get to see my-new-to-be-here in September grand child.  I would never get to see the sun shine on my lover's face.  There is so much color in my life, I think my soul would just die.  These are frightening thoughts but when you are faced with so much uncertainty, you realize there are things that cannot be unseen. Color fills my soul with music.

I think my love of color comes from my mother.  My poor mother is losing her battle with life. It will be one more hospital stay, one more treatment, one more this & that.  I stay away from her because it breaks my heart to see her waste away and become so bitter.  She is in pain all the time and I know this is not the life she wanted but more the one she has settled for.  My best friends know how much this kills me.... to sit by and see her in this pain-suspended until we get giddy with false hope... then death will steal her away from me.  

My Dad says as you get older, you go to more funerals than you go to weddings.  My old dive Daddy said he did not go to hospitals, weddings or funerals because you lose friends at all three.  So not fair. We buried him 2 years ago.  I hope no one else has to go through all this pain but I know it comes into all of our lives. It is our job as the living to take care of the sick and the ailing.  We preserve memories the best way we can. We tuck memories away like movie ticket stubs and reflect back on them when our hearts need a place to go.  Where we can go and soak up colors, faded, but still  heartwarming.

 

Spring Cleaning

In my giddiness of cleaning things out, I probably got overzealous in tossing away clothing that no longer fits and is (happily) too large.  Springtime means new beginnings and holds a very cathartic feeling as you toss old things out that bind and tie you down.  Styles change. People change.  You cannot grow with so much stuff that you have to clean, sort and move just to function.  I feel like I cannot breathe when "things" start to pile up in my sanctuary.  

I currently own too many pens. Just not the one particular 'Holy Grail' pen I really, really want.   I could have gone my entire life not knowing this one particular pen exists and it makes it equally tough that my best friend taunts me with it.  I have a pen fetish. I admit it.  I must develop the discipline to not purchase another pen.  Ever.  
I own too much lip gloss too but that is not ever going to change.  


Having too many options makes it hard to make a decision. Much in the way people tend to collect "friends", how do you decide who gets your attention, your affection, your love?  

I joke about the difference between 'fans' and 'friends'.  Working in publicity, it is spelled out very bluntly for you.  When working with famous celebrities, you have to realize that even though they are nice people.....they are doing a job.  

Being a true friend isn't that hard.  It should be effortless... like the weight of a feather.  Otherwise, it is just a job.  It starts to feel like dead weight and you need to either be around them sparingly or clear them out altogether. 
 

 

Where, Oh Where, Should Lucinda Go?

I am soliciting feedback concerning my entity....Lucinda Blithe.  Her/my editor has become invisible so her/my last article was not marked or noted. Emails have not been returned. I can only imagine he is off on another adventure. He has so many different things going on. It reminds me a little of the saying "Jack of all trades/Master of none". Apparently I have been left to fend for myself.

So I turn to all of the web-a-spheres to seek enlightenment and direction.
I have always fallen into the groove between really happy and really successful. If I get ahead of myself, life has a way of stepping in and laughing at me really hard.  I am not certain what "writing" life I have left. It may just be blogging here and getting feedback from the kind-hearted souls who have helped me along this journey.  I had several projects in the works for articles. If you can think of anything that needs to be addressed, please send me an email.  I do not want to get ahead of myself but I would hate to lose all that I have invested in "ME" and us.  I would like to be helpful and not like everyone else. Horrors!

This past weekend I learned some very valuable lessons.  Never depend on someone else to make  you happy.  And take your migraine meds because you never know when someone will invite you to see a Pow-wow. Drum circles are not just a figure of speech.  I sat around the house all day Friday and managed to talk myself out of going out in public. If given the opportunity, I would never be home. Ever.  I love my house. I designed and helped build it with my own two hands but I keep hoping there is something else to see and discover just beyond that next horizon.  Like Maryland.

I also lack the enthusiasm that someone else wants me to display when I am happy. My philosophy is that if I ain't bitchin'-I be happy.  But this is obviously unsettling for someone who should know me well by now.  I am like a child.... watching and observing. I want to take it all in and reflect back upon it later. I am rarely caught up in the moment.  If I ever display giddiness, it is accidental.  I cannot afford to be giddy.  I was once caught off guard when someone gave me a gift. I wanted to cry but too many people were watching and waiting. I am rarely surprised.  I love surprises.  I am not responsible for the things that come out of my mouth at that rare moment in time.  I love that most of all. 

First Rose

Monday can just kiss my ass. I barely had my eyes open when I was confronted with the news that the first love of my life had passed away.  It was just like being punched in the gut.  I couldn't breathe. Could only sit there and cry.  How many years had passed since he had darkened my door way? How many nights had we sat on the telephone, talking....making plans that were never to be?  

Mark loved music. I knew he would outgrow the town we lived in. I hoped for bigger and better things for him. Never cancer. Never to die at 48 years of age.  Mark was way beyond anything this small mind could encompass.  

Mark brought me roses on our first date. Mark gave me my first real kiss. Mark wrote me love letters and showed compassion when no one else understood.  

My oldest & dearest friend Karen wrote me a note today that best described how I can still feel the sting of the memories of a friendship from long ago:

"Once you care about someone, a thread from your life is forever tied to theirs, even if you never see them again.  The thread breaks when you hear they died. You feel like a kid who just lost a balloon to the sky."

Mark Eugene Stowe.....Rock Star Angel  

Low Places

I have become a creature of bad habit. I do not have to get up at a certain time on most days and some of my closest friends know exactly when to call or text me like psychics on the prowl. I will not abide by rules and unless something is pressing into financial ruin, I will procrastinate as long as I can.
Who is this person?
I have always been a "By the rules and very punctually correct person" so for the clocks to be ticking away all at a different and very incorrect time, I am on the brink of madness. 
I actually sat down and watched a complete mini series and even tried to watch an hour and a half movie. One that I was not paid to watch. I am really slipping somewhere over the edge.  In my defense, I worked on projects while the mini series played but it ran it's entire length without me having to rewind once.  It was horror.

I have not cooked a real, honest 100% from scratch anything meal since Christmas and even then, do not tell my mother, I cheated on the mashed potatoes. 
I used to pride myself on being a "Martha Stewart on steroids and a budget" kind of gal but somewhere, I have let something else much darker slip in. Is Facebook to blame? Is my attention span of a gnat to foster the burden? I will try to do better. Right now, I am ashamed to admit, I have laundry that I washed & folded but still did not put away.  I think that by admitting it in a semi public eye, I will hold myself more accountable to do the mundane tasks that need to be done daily that keep my wheels of sanity turning. 
I will tackle losing weight tomorrow. No sense letting Ben & Jerry's stock slip just yet.

Heartbreaking Day

While driving down the road today I saw a lady kneeling by a roadside memorial. I pass this site often and see the tiny white cross with fresh flowers.  The stuffed animals perched in care, waiting.  
Today was a little different.  In the sunshine, a mother was grieving her 17 year old daughter.  May 5th will mark a year since she died in a car wreck. I could almost hear the mother's sobs as she clawed at the grass, reaching for someone who was no longer there.   
In one poignant moment....today had such a bittersweet feeling. I wanted to stop and tell her "She is no longer there" but sometimes heartstrings need a place to tie themselves to on earth.  The empty place needs to be filled somehow until time can soften the edges.  Everyone is so busy living their life.  
Take time for each other and hug your babies.

Really Religion

So someone invited me to comment on religion today.  And politics.  And on a beef stroganoff recipe. The latter one is actually the most entertaining to me.

Religion reared it's head at the lunch table yesterday.  Why don't I go to a church?  Well, the last 2 churches I went to disbanded and decided to split families up.  All in the name of religion. My home church told me that because I had premarital sex, I could not get married there.  Even though the preacher was stealing money left and right....he thought it best to dictate this to me because God told him to.  God, however, did not tell him to stop stealing.

The subject was on if college was making people think twice about going to church.  My children went to college and actually go to church more now than they did previously.  So no. That theory does not hold water.  It holds the key that people are tired of doing things "Just because I said so".

Church is a hotbed of fellowship and spirit.  Any time a group of people join to worship....that is church.  In my eye, it is my choice to read my bible and learn what I can.  I do not need anyone spoon feeding it to me like the local news chooses to do about politics.  I am not saying I will not go back to a church but if there were a pew labeled :"Does not worship well with others" that is where you will find me sitting.  I am rebellious and if given enough time to think on it, will openly disagree with what most regard as "Their way, the only way".  Religion has evolved into one group thinking they are more deserving than another.  My God would never stand for this.

Someone very close to me and very devout to her faith said something that just spoke wonders for me. "There should be no hunger, no want, no basic human need being unmet in ANY community today if a church is in the area to serve their people.  It is the job of man and not the government to see that this is done".  Until that time....until I can go to a church and no one is expecting me to hand them ONLY money....then I think that is the church for me.  I want to see people helping each other.  That is the truest spirit and testament of faith.

Unseen Love At First Sight

As luck would have it, most people never grasp a true expression of love.  It can be a hasty glance. A brush of fingertips that grace lightly across the skin.  At best, passing closely but not too close.  It is like a dance where both the lovers are one step out of time from each other.  Within the same circle but never allowed to touch.
Familiar love and security both fleeting.  Seeking out solace and a place to lay your head on the days when the charade just becomes too much to bear.  The restless heart.  Wanderlust spills from the moon as we tuck our dreams out of sight, night after night after night.
If only our souls could touch just once.

Come here, Lover

If given the chance, I take the dare. 

If it sounds wildly amazing and fun, I am your' girl.  This smacks straight in the face of everything reasonable and sensible and I do not dive often into this pool of delight.  

I am wreckless and impetuous.

I like riding fast with the windows down on a hot Summer night and feeling the wind blow through my hair.

I am quite the handful.

Take a look at the woman you are currently with and be glad you are. 

This description fits her more than you could ever see with your daily eyes of life.

You have to see her with your heart and taste her with a passionate tongue.  

She exists. 

Make her dance.

Make her sing.

I have faith in you that you can.