Seasons

I have been silent.

Ever so silent.

My Dad passed away in the wee hours of Tuesday, October 14th in his sleep. It was something I had to worry about, as he was an insulin dependent diabetic. I spoke to him that evening, Monday evening. It was about a 20 minute conversation: light. concerned. contemplative. ordinary. "See you Thursday."

Thursday was the day he took my son, G to karate. It was their special time together.

The next morning the cleaning maids found him, long gone.

I am now an orphan.

I am now the maternal head of my family line. I still feel like a small child finding my way in the world.

We have decided to move into my parent's house, located across town from our present house and our network of friends. We will have one of our friends not far from us, and my SIL close. We are moving from a weak school district to the #4 Place to Live in the DFW area. We gain 1,000 sq. ft., a place 40 years newer, and a true neighborhood with lots of neighborhood playmates. We have a HUGE backyard in which I have finally convinced my husband to have a pool built.

But most of all, I am not moving into a childhood home, but a home filled with memories. The word "memories" to me, always connotates something good.

These aren't good memories.

These are memories of a mother withering from cancering until her last breath. And a father passing of a heart attack. A broken heart, really.

This is my inheritance. I hope to fill it with good memories. Fill it to the brim. I hope to fill it with laughter and life milestones. I hope to change the dread I feel every time I have the intent to travel to that house to joy. I hope to make it home. My home.

Answers in Dreams

It is already starting to fade. I followed you through the airport, desperate to see you before you left. It seemed you didn't want to see me, and yet that look in your eyes said you wanted to see me more than anything. Finally, when you conceded, you said: "The answer to your question is yes."

Such peace. I know it is difficult for you to express those things, nevertheless, you did and it was exactly what I needed.

You gave me the courage to enter the journey. I didn't even think about my limitations. You jumped in with me and we were off on the journey. I did things I didn't think I could do. I didn't even notice when you were gone.

It was just when my fibromyalgia was brought up that I realized I was one of six. One of six, when we started with twentysomething. I had taken each step on my own.

It was when I was down that I received a small reward, an egg filled with items. Small treasures. I was asked, "Do you know what that is?" I sifted through the trinkets and noticed a pair of small, stone wings. "You got your wings!" a female voice somewhere above/around me exclaimed. Indeed, I had. Did I have to continue the rigorous journey? I had the feeling I could, if I so chose.

Had I been disqualified for this journey, this race? But the wings let me choose. I wanted to keep going, even though I knew it would only get more and more difficult.

And then I awoke.

Thank you for the messages.

Pegged: One Word

Yourself: Open-book

Your Lover: Tender

Your Hair: Soft

Your Mother: Soulmate

Your Father: Lonely

Your Favorite Item: Smiles

Your Dream Last Night: Answers

Your Favorite Drink: Coca-cola

Your Dream Home: Spacious

The Room You Are In: Living

Your Pets: Cats

What You Are Now: Icky

What You're Not: Energetic

Your Best Friend: Chris

One of Your Wishlist Items: Healthiness

Your Gender: Female

The Last Thing You Did: Eat

What You Are Wearing: T-shirt

Your Favorite Weather: Warm

Your Favorite Book: [The] Stand

The Last Thing You Ate: Saltine

Your Life: Longing

Your Mood: Thoughtful

Favorite article of clothing: Jeans

Favorite color: Red

Song: Hallelujah

A Thousand Beautiful Things

Look for this list to grow and in no particular order:

1. My son's eyes
2. The small scar next to my husband's left eye
3. My daughter's tiny voice
4. Sunrises
5. Colorful sunsets
6. The greenness of Scotland
7. The sound of a piano
8. Rumi's poetry
9. My mother
10. Apple-headed Siamese cats
11. Men of Mediterranean decent
12. Baba ganouj
13. The Budda
14. Candlelight
15. Cuddles, with people you love
16. Laughter
17. Celtic crosses
18. God
19. Imagination
20. Birkenstocks
21. iPods
22. Friendship
23. Peter Gabriel and his music
24. Courage
25. Family traditions
26. Giving to others
27. Taking time for one's self
28. A sleeping child
29. The mind of Leonardo da Vinci
30. Yoga