Thursday, May 31, 2007

Comfort

The silence is not loud anymore. It is just quiet. I hear a heartbeat. I wait for the words and nearly hear the breath drawn in before the exhale of them. They will come.

Where once I could not live with space, I stretch myself in it and notice my own arms and legs. Brown. Strong. Solid enough.

I fill my own time. I dream. I think. I am. Comfortable with this.

Sunday, May 27, 2007

Memorial Day

Lest we forget.

-Thanks, JW

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

I feel better.

For the first time in days I took note of some good things. I saw a red trumpet flower as I drove home, I heard a snippet of a bird singing, I found a birthday gift left on my kitchen counter by elves. I got to use a skill passed on to me by my dad: I tied a Windsor in a piece of striped silk for my friend's son because she's a single mom, too. It made me feel like a magician to take the tie and produce a perfect knot for his band concert at school. Then the Girl Scout meeting full of giggles and paint and popcorn. My girls got their bath and books and prayers and water and songs and tuck-in.

I don't feel angry and self-absorbed and self-important like yesterday. I have beauty that is free, I have those that need me, I have skills to pass on, I have friends to share with, I have girls to bathe and grow and love. I have all I'll ever need. Inside, outside. May I always have eyes and heart to see.

I feel like me. Only better. One year better.

Monday, May 14, 2007

39

Today I turned 39.

I had a nice lunch with the people from work. I ate more than my share of the dessert.

I went to the gym and tried very hard not to be 39 by staying longer than usual.

I took a nice, hot bath and drank a glass of wine.

Then I got a call from Mr. Blonde Curls to wish me a happy day. Somewhere in the middle of his lecture about how not to feel down, about how to be a good parent, about how to let God handle things... I lost my ever-loving mind and yelled my head off. Pounded my fist into my bed and yelled into the phone, rose up onto my knees and I think I turned reddish-purple. I tore at the sheets and gritted my teeth and seethed. I asked severeal rhetorical questions that really didn't beg an answer. I was yelling at him for nothing, for everything. I was screaming because I can. And when I finally finished, I cried. Spent. I listened, then, because I was pretty sure he should have hung up. He was still there so I apologized for yelling at him. He said, "you weren't yelling at me." Oh, but I was. But not for any of that. I was yelling at him because we're friends. Friends.

Today was my birthday and I indulged myself.

Wednesday, May 9, 2007

Um, No thanks.

Well, no new job. The man was nice about it.

But I'm having dinner and wine with girlfriends tomorrow night. I'm in my own house. My girls are breathing softly in their beds. We're all well.

And there are Oreos. And milk. Both cold.