It's All About the Journey

Today would have been her 98th birthday. As it stands, this one is the first one we have to do without her. It's surreal to have these experiences without her. She always made a big deal about birthdays. She'd call every year and sing Happy Birthday to you. She couldn't sing a note. No matter where you were, she always sent a card. The last birthday I had was the one where instead of Nanny's off-key singing, I got a call from my mother to tell me that Nanny was in bad shape and that the end was near. She hung on for four more months, but she was rarely herself in that time. The weekend of Mother's Day, just a week or two before, she insisted that she get out of her chair and hug me hello. I took some videos of her telling stories from seventy years before. And she always told them like they were yesterday. Here's one that I took last year. I sure do love hearing her voice now. https://photos.app.goo.gl/znv1DTdH5cQBUPXm7 For her 90th birthday, we all got together...

I cut the snot out of myself cleaning a Santoku the other night. The damn thing is dull and you know what they say. I keep popping it back open and while it stings, it doesn't hurt like it acts like it should, so I just end up getting blood on everything. Small aggravations of house-cleaning. I've come to realize that being exhausted, combined with heavy conversations just before bed make me have wild-ass dreams. My subconscious tries to make sense of the things that my waking mind would work out in due course. Last night's had me considering how other people feel about the folks I've chosen to give the best parts of myself to for the past year. I didn't have to think too much about it because the people I was spending the most time with are the people who are immersed in it. People worry about it. I never even thought hard about that. I feel fortunate that I have both. I guess it's a good sign to refocus my energy and thoughts. I feel like I'm wearing mysel...

I woke up just as it started snowing out my bedroom window. I could see the light that snow makes brightening up my room and I knew. I love that brightness. Of course, the tiny bit of arthritis in my right hand told me it would snow and it did. Let's add that to the worst superpowers ever. I love the sound of the snow. The way it rustles like tissue paper in a bag when these big, soft, irregular flakes fall. Perfect silence except that barely audible crunch. The way it muffles every other sound. I went out the front for a few minutes just to listen. I heard my hawk in the trees and the sound of the snow. It's not as cold as I thought it would be. About ten degrees warmer than yesterday morning. I'm thankful for a job that allows me to work from home. I'm watching the snow fall hard and heavy out the patio door. My inner child wants to run out in the street and make my footprints the first set in the perfect, even, surface. I guess I should save that for the actual child...

Monday night, a friend died. A musician. The man was always smiling. Looks like flu and then strep that turned septic. He was in his 40s. His daughter is 11. I met her at the hospital the week she was born. Their little family was always on an adventure. They threw the best parties. Everyone is just in shock. I can't think of what to say or how to react or even how I should feel. Mortality comes knocking a little too hard sometimes. I just keep praying for his family and holding a warm space for all of the people who lost him. I'm glad for the company I had when I got the news. I still apologized for crying because I'm still so ashamed of showing any level of softness to almost anyone and it has only been a few weeks. I don't know how to accurately describe how I'm feeling today other than to say I feel itchy. My nerves are all jangling edges keeping time with the screech of the camelia on the gutters in the wind outside the window. I'm set to go to the gym and ...

What's the opposite of an emotional vampire? Someone who seems to draw energy from positively impacting others. Comedians, touring musicians, bartenders... I realize that I'm drawn to people like that. I realize that I kind of also am  one of those people. I mean, maybe it's just people-pleasing, but I think it's deeper than that. It's this need to leave a lasting impact on people who need it the most. I wonder if it's because we're the sort of people who really could have used someone like us at some pivotal moment and either didn't ever get that person, or really, really did that get person. I've noticed lately that when someone does something nice for me, I notice. I hold on to it. I tend to then repeat it for someone else because it made me feel good. I'm typing all this up as I hear faint acoustic guitar chords through a closed door, playing a song I don't know. I doubt anyone knows it. I think I do know the hands playing it. I think I m...