Ebb And Flow

“You will get where you wanna be, know you and your tenacity.” My friend said to me. 

“Thanks, man. I know. Just a hiccup and I know 2020 and beyond will shine. I’ve been through enough to prove myself worthy of living a glorious life....”

....”needed to hear those words regardless though. It means a lot.” I replied. 

With the good comes the bad and with the bad comes the good. Such is life I guess? 

A test of loyalty and allegiance. A test of strength. A reminder that when times are tough one can be tougher...

For those of you who are just reading this...feel free to go to other posts and catch up but if you want the condescended version and don’t want to read previous posts: my mom might have cancer and not to mention my car engine just blew up. 

I live across the country from where the rest of my family lives. Including her. When I was 21, I moved two hours away to go to school and live my own life. My mom pushing me the entire time. Now was my chance to start my own life and create my own dreams. I ended up living in my college town past college and well into adulthood. I loved it there. It was bicycle, music, art, and culture friendly. It was progressive and creative. It was a tiny bubble of fun and freedom for all. 

At the age of 34, I moved from that sleepy town to write new chapters and create new adventures...I’m now almost 40. I will hit that mark in May. 

Maybe it’s the full moon or maybe everything coming at me full force or maybe it’s because I’m an empath or maybe it’s just mixture of all things combined? I don’t know...I just know I am feeling all the feels. 

Last night my mom informed me (as she whispered on the other line as not to alert the news to my nephews...because they aren’t getting told yet) that she will not be getting a certain type of procedure done that might rid her of whatever these “live, hot, and active cells” might be. Whatever the fuck those details mean? 

First, I’m told it might be cancer. Second, I’m told she may not do anything about it-if that’s the only option. 3) I’m what feels like a million miles away when all I really want to be is close to her. My heart is cracking into a billion tiny pieces and all I can do is sit and wait....wait and sit...looking to my phone for answers to no avail. 

I don’t need pity but I do need to be right here....in this pity party of mine. Just let me sink for a minute...don’t worry, I know how to float and I will...float back up. 

I know there’s good in all this: my mom is in solid spirits, she caught this early, and she’s a fighter....but still, I can’t help but worry about the ‘what ifs’? 

My husband in his due diligence is doing everything in his power to keep me on the up and up...to keep me from going dark and embracing the negativity. My mother will be fine. My mother will be fine. My. Mother. Will. Be. Fine. 

Years ago when my best friend found out her mom was dying, I brought her to my house and let her cry it out. I let her scream, shout, get cray for a while. I so wish I had my best friend right now to do the same thing. Luckily, I talked to her day soon after my umpteenth freak out. Luckily for my husband, it was only the second one he’s seen. Mostly, I’m keeping this shit inside.

Trying my best to say...”You know what, this shit ain’t shit and all will be well.” 

This too shall pass....

It better. 

Until then...it’s music, beer, writing, and photography. Anything and everything to take my mind away and make me stronger. 

Earlier I checked my stats on my last post and there it was...a light of hope. My home country...someone out there read what I wrote. Someone in Germany saw my post. Sehr gut. Ich Liebe Dich. Danke.  *I’m learning German as best as I can-not living there and living in a country that is repulsed by other languages, it’s hard but I’m trying. Yay! ‘Merica. Ain’t she a bute sometimes? Cough. Sarcasm. 

This was the spark I needed to see...especially this week, especially now. A shiny glimmer in otherwise overwhelmingly shitty week. Thank God! It’s Friday. Two more days and I can say, Buh bye you miserable crack pot!” 

Whomever you are...you have no clue how much this meant. This one little action cheered this one girl up. 

Those in Argentina and the Ukraine...I thank you as well. When I first got back into this, I figured mostly my words would find their way into an abyss of the unknown. You know? A place where words go to disappear. 

I needed to see my homeland on that stat and when I did, a giant smile took over and I haven’t smiled like that in a few days. I love smiling. I smile at everyone...or at least I try to. It’s not an obnoxious smile...just a look up to show that you, as a human being, exist on this planet too...and that you too are important. It’s not just about me. It’s about all of us. The gestures. The actions. The kindness. The reminders...it all counts and it makes for less lonely times. 

Sometimes we need that. Even if it comes from a perfect stranger....sometimes we need to be reminded of human connection. 

By the way, can we all get on board with putting our phones down while we’re hanging with one another or at least during meal times. I love this quality about my husband. When we eat, he puts the phone away...he also takes off his hat. Such a gentleman. 

My inclusion with humans is an attribution handed down from my mother. I can never let anyone sit alone, feel left out, or feel like they don’t belong. Unless that’s what is wanted of course. Some people like solitude. Ya know? I do. I like my down moments where it’s me and my solo space. Doing whatever it is that makes alone time enjoyable and rejuvenating and not forced or depressing. 

Sometimes though we need to come out of our hole and celebrate being here. Sometimes we need to be reminded about the importance of human interaction. Real conversations that aren’t shrouded in technology or attention deficit disorders. 

And I know, we can’t be on all the time. We shouldn’t have to be but it’s always a nice change of pace when we can get out of our own heads for awhile. I was pulled out of mine when I saw those stats. My mama would be proud. She’s always supported this writing thing. 

I’m trying to focus on other things other than my mama. Honest, I am. But c’mon it’s my mom we’re talking about. I’m trying to get myself out of the pain I feel from, “Ugh...my fucking *nest egg!!!” *previous post talked about my car also dying on me this week too. Majorly dying. 

Despite it all, I am being reminded that this is life and even when it does act a little squirrelly, I can tame its wild streak. 

Fun Fact: I used to have a pet rat. He was white and brown and his name was Mr. Fiddles. It’s not a squirrel but you understand...it’s a pet often looked over because it’s different. That little bugger was the sweetest damn thing. 

I’m hoping this is it. This is my last cycle of the badshit blues. My mom, my car, my previous struggle fest of a life...it will all be behind me soon. 

If you personally knew me and were privy to how far I’m come and all that I’ve been through you’d be saying, “Dang Girl! I’m rooting for you too.” 

If you met my mom, you’d fall in love with her and want nothing more than the best for her and if I could take only one valuable lesson from all those lessons she has taught it would this one: how to be a decent human being.  

She rises above far more often than I do but then again, she’s the one that gave me this moral code to begin with so she can’t really be all that upset that this is outcome. I just have standards. We both do buuuuut with age comes wisdom and I’m still working on the whole with age comes wisdom philosophy. I do have to say I’m getting better post my *2016 election freak out. *I got sick that night...like physically ill. In my front yard. In the midst of crying and disappointment. 

With every fiber in my being...I’m trying to make it through 2020 with zero outbursts. So far so good. Tiny snippets of social media seem to be doing the trick...even more so hearing my mother saying, “I can’t believe you. I get it but I can’t believe you! We are going to your uncles for Thanksgiving! Why would you post that!!!! I taught you better.” Whooops. 

I’m almost 40 and disappointing my mother still makes me feel like I’m 12. I can’t be the only one, right? 

This year I’m keeping my political opinions to myself. I shall make you proud this go round, Mama....

....I will not curse the voters out. I will not curse the voters out. I will not curse the voters out. I will not curse the voters out. I. Will. Not. Curse. The. Voters. Out. 

The thing is...I don’t care how much money a person might have. I take care of myself. I’m not impressed with self importance. I’d rather talk about movies, music, books, interesting weird facts. I’d rather talk about the moon and the stars. I don’t need to know about a bank roll. It’s none of business. I’d rather discuss adventures and excitements and what makes a person tick. I’d rather speak on things that make someone versus what defines them but I live in a place where that’s not the case. It’s all about fame and fortune and it’s infuriating. 

I’d even be okay with not talking at all. 

Silence is golden in some situations and I’ll pick up on that energy either way. Always have, always will. Just like my mama always has and always will...because I’ve decided she’s not going anywhere for a long, long time. It’s settled. 

She’s staying put. The earth needs her. 

And while I wrangle all these emotions, I’ll keep being ruthless with the life I want to have. No compromising...just me beating it into submission. My mama always wanted me to follow passions, despite the fears that come along with them and in previous posts I said that both Norman Reedus and *Alex Hogh Andersen were two of my biggest influences on this ride. They are but sorry fellas, you’ve been demoted. My mama is numero uno. I’m doing this for her. I’m climbing out of my shell because of her. I know you both won’t mind. 

Sorry AA but my American phone doesn’t allow all proper spelling...’Merica. Don’t feel bad.....try my last name on for size and see where that gets you. Airport security and I are so tight and forget about trying to have it be pronounced correctly...that shit never happens. It usually comes out sounding like the person is a having a seizure...try growing up with that your whole life? I’ve even had someone look at my last name then say, “Well, that’s not very American.” I apologized that it wasn’t Smith and walked away. Good times. 🤦🏻‍♀️

Mama, we’ll kick ass together. I love you and our glory is coming.