Step-Monster is a Two-Way Street

I'm sure that there are times when my defacto step-son does not like me and wishes I'd never come into his world. Yet, every once in a while, we have 'moments' where it seems that he actually likes and respects me. I thought we had made great strides -- until tonight when I got 100% teenage attitude and sass. Granted, I've only been a part of his life for five months, but in that time, I have gone out of my way to help him with school -- science project, senior project, English project... all out of my pocket and out of the goodness of my heart... and out of a genuine desire to see him do well.

When I was a teenager, I never understood my dad's 'melodrama' (my perception) of saying, "after everything I've done for you, this is the thanks I get..." Now I do. While I cannot imagine the hurt of having your own flesh and blood dismiss you and treat you with total disrespect, I can say that it didn't feel too great coming from my step-monster either. I wonder how the next 6 months will play out as he continues to flex his 'indepedence' muscles... and I wonder what the effect will be on my relationship with his dad.

Mother's Day

Here we are again - another Mother's Day. This is a day that typically sends me into a tailspin since, well, I'm NOT a mother. It is usually filled with wistful moments of 'what if' and 'my babies would have been 'x' years old this year'. The annversaries aren't as hard as they used to be -- in fact, one just passed completely unnoticed -- and I have to stop and really think now how old my 'eldest' would be (seven, by the way). This year seems easier than most. I am content with my life and happy with where I am - both physically and emotionally. No, this year, there doesn't seem to be quite as much 'sting' in the "Happy Mother's Day" greetings flying around and that's a good thing.

Conflicted

It's hard to believe that I have not visited these pages since before the big move. I have been on Oahu for just over four months now and the transition has been many things -- amazing, heart-breaking, wonderful, trying. Tears have been shed, first fight survived.

I am still working to determine and define my place in this new world: defacto step-mom, 'girlfriend', former successful something or other, musician wannabe. While my horoscope seems to presage great career success, I have not found its source and, at the moment, am about 60 days away from being flat broke.

I find myself in the position of having to decide whether to dive headlong into the pool of independent business owner - a daunting and expensive proposition which would have to be financed on credit - with the 'promise' of a salaried position in six months' time or to walk away from this 'opportunity' in search of something else entirely. The prospect of settling for a position that pays about one-third of what I made last year fills me with such a sense of failure and disappointment that I can scarcely contain the tears that seem to spring, unbidden, to my eyes. Still, I cannot imagine turning over my debt and the responsibility for my upkeep to another person. J has been most gracious, sweet and adorable in his offers to take care of me... why is it that I cannot accept? Why is it that I am beginning to dread each day as it stretches out before me without meaning or purpose and why am I unable to muster even the gratitude and joy for the gift of love I've been given.

I have just undertaken the journey of 'life is a verb' by Patti Digh... 37 Days to Wake Up, Be Mindful, and Live Intentionally... perhaps it will help me gain the clarity I so desperately seek.

De Tante

Tensions have been alleviated between the island girl and the mainland girl.

No harm, no foul.

Sunrise came

I was wrong.

If you prick us, do we not bleed?

The 'we' to which I refer is really ME. Tonight, moreso than most nights in recent memory, I am sore vexed (to continue with the Shakespearean theme). I am caught betwixt jealousy and a loathing of that emotion... between love and hatred... between pride and shame.

I have always thought of jealousy as the refuge of small minds - yet, tonight I find myself so eaten alive by that emotion that I cannot contain it. And while the object of my affection remains so, his cohort has become the object of my disdain... not because of any great transgression - but merely because she is with him and I am not. This fact brings tears to my eyes -- both at the injustice of being so far away and helpless to change my circumstance and at the shame of allowing myself this indulgence.

Still, I have to wonder, was there no consideration for how one's lover might feel? Or have years of being alone dulled that sense?

I'm certain that with tomorrow's sunrise I will feel quite the fool for having entertained these thoughts... but somehow the writing of them has provided a modicum of relief.

I bid you good morrow.

Stolen Moments

... snippets of conversations... interrupted by the unyielding demands of daily life... a few 'I love yous'... and then hours pass as I wait for the next call.

For now, all we have are stolen moments and I am growing weary from needing you so much.

What was and is and is to come...

No, I'm not talking about the Messiah... although the season is perfect for such a discussion... I'm talking about my life.  It's been an interesting - sometimes trying - period in my life these past several months.  Since reuniting with JJ, I have found myself in the position of completely rethinking my life.  Until July 28th, I had a well-ordered - albeit solitary - plan.  My work was my primary focus... a long and distinguished career with a well-known company, a legacy as a philanthropist and a little local fame as a singer.  Today, I find that entire plan has gone by the wayside. The career that I thought I would have has evaporated due to corporate reorganization and I have quite literally divested myself of nearly all of my worldly possessions.  At times like these, one is left to consider who they are in the world and what their legacy will be.  It seems that I now have the opportunity to completely reinvent my future.

One of my biggest 'learnings' in this process has been that things do not define me.  It was a difficult lesson, because I come from a family -- or at least a mother -- who believes that, in some way, we are what we have.  I have always believed that we are a sum of our experiences, and therefore, what we have serves as a reminder of those experiences... and therein lies the struggle for me of separating the things from the memories and thus from myself and my idea of who I am.  Over the course of the past several months, I have, indeed, separated myself from my things - reevaluated the importance and relevance of each thing and then carefully selected those things that I want to take with me into my new life and let go, mourned, or purged everything else.  It's been cathartic... cleansing... brutal... healing... so many things all wrapped up into an emotional maelstrom that has ultimately served to smooth the rough edges, define the path forward and strengthen me beyond anything I imagined.

In the midst of all of this 'learning' and growing and evolving has been one constant... JJ... the man I love and for whom all of these things have been undertaken.  Never in my life have such deep, constant emotions guided my every step.  So often in my past I have taken the easy way out -- when things were too hard, I simply walked away or made excuses as to why it wasn't 'do-able'.  Even though this has been one of the most difficult phases of my life - save the infidelity and subsequent back surgery and neurological dysfunction of the early 90's - I have not... not even ONCE... not even for a MOMENT... questioned that this is the right thing to do or that JJ is the one with whom I'm meant to spend the rest of my life.

The only thing that the relationship has contributed to the level of difficulty is the pain of separation and the overwhelming desire to be together.  Yet, even this leaves me with a knowing that the instant the waiting is over... the instant I am in his arms... my world will be as it was always meant to be and I will know joy and love like none I have ever imagined.

I wish that there were adequate words to describe what I feel for Julian.  Love... adoration... however deep and abiding just seem so small in comparison to the enormity of what we share.  In the past, I have wanted desperately to believe that people who came into my life were MEANT for me, yet I can tell you now that they were not -- they were not even close.  I know this because of the inexpressible sense of belonging that overwhelms me each time I hear JJ's voice... each time he touches me... each time I gaze into his eyes and see my own soul reflected there.

In just three weeks, I will embark on the next chapter of my life with the man I love.  Whatever life brings our way, we will have each other and that, I have learned, is what life is all about.

Nostalgia

The past several weeks, I have been sorting through all of the photos and memorabilia from my life and trying to organize it all into photo albums and scrapbooks.  Today, I got to the scrapbook part... as I sat knee deep in old report cards and growth charts the thought came to me, "who cares?"  Literally?  Who cares?  Other than me and, perhaps my boyfriend (for the first perusal), who will EVER care about the things that happened in my life?  I think about my mom's albums and scrapbooks and trip logs and I know that my brother and I - and perhaps my nieces - will page through them wistfully when she is gone. It's at times like these that the footprint of your life comes into focus.  Without anyone to carry on after you -- without children -- your life (at least the silly scrapbook moments) don't really mean a thing.  These photographs and snipets of my years on this planet will be one more thing to be disposed of... one more item on the list of "what do we do with THESE?"  Cheering letters, pageant crowns, roses pressed in wax paper... love notes, playbills and theatrical reviews... Maybe I should plan for a Viking Funeral... load all of this up with me on a pyre, set it all aflame and send me out to sea... That's easier to think about than the alternative:  my final contribution to America's landfills.

Company cars and carotid arteries...

On Friday I was informed that I must return my company car.  Yesterday I was informed that my mother has the carotid arteries of an 80 year old at age 68.  How does this complicate my life?  Let me count the ways.

First, I had a really nice, neat plan for moving to Hawaii at the end of December to be with the love of my life.  The return of the company car presents a major problem, since I sold my personal vehicle back in June.  What do I drive until I leave for Hawaii?  Beyond the driving part - what does this move say about my position with the company?  Rumor has it that the management program will be completely restructured AND the number of managers reduced by 33%, virtually eliminating any promotion opportunities I might have had. 

But back to the driving part... do you have any idea how expensive it is to rent a car for a month?  Even an economy car at discounted corporate rates would run me over $600 per month - times three months and there goes my budget!  I could buy a beater for about the same price -- just something to get me around town -- but then I'd have to sell it before I leave and who has time for THAT in the midst of liquidating an entire household?  Yet another alternative is to buy a new car and then ship it to Hawaii, but my research indicates that doesn't make good fiscal sense.  While the destination charges and excise taxes in Hawaii are significant, they don't offset the cost of shipping the vehicle and, in fact, I could buy a Toyota cheaper there than here on the mainland.

This is a complication that I just wasn't prepared for. Part of me wants to tell the company to stick it where the sun don't shine, resign and move to Hawaii tomorrow and I actually gave that some consideration.  There are three mitigating factors to that decision:

1. It's probably not too healthy for my career to up and walk away with my numbers being as bad as they are
2. When one adds in the new wrinkle of my mom's health, it has me thinking about Thanksgiving and Christmas and getting all fatalistic.
3. It still leaves Caleb smack-dab in the middle of the 120 day quarantine, which would mean having someone else care for him for 90 days -- including his 14 day health screening at the vet, getting his tranquilizers and putting him on a plane January 1st.  That's a lot to ask of anyone... including family.

So, here I sit this morning thinking about carodit arteries and company cars and wondering what the hell I can do about either one.

Hawaii

***I started this post a week ago and am just now getting back to my blog***

On Friday I found out that my office was actually going to be closed for Labor Day -- a holiday not typically celebrated by insurance agents due to the high volume of accidents and claims. That set my mind to racing with thoughts of seeing my baby... just jumping on a jet and showing up at his door. Not quite taking things THAT far, I asked what he thought and he seemed to be game for the adventure, so I started checking prices. Flying out Friday night was outrageously expensive, but a Saturday morning flight with a Monday night return was actually pretty feasible... so, after a little hesitation I clicked "BOOK IT" and, I think, shocked the shit out of him!

After 14 hours of travelling, I arrived at the airport in Honolulu... and there he stood at the bottom of the escalator -- a beautiful lei in hand and a big grin on his face. Being in his arms again was the best feeling ever. Since he has become a reader of my blog, I don't want to praise his skills too much -- it might go to his head. Suffice it to say that he rocks my world.

There was a fire on the island that had the roads knotted and traffic gnarled, so we spent hours making the drive to his place. Dealing with traffic is not his forte, I'm afraid, but that's okay. When we arrived, his dog, Kala was sitting at the front door waiting for us -- seems she had escaped from the back yard -- again. She is just adorable and we became fast friends, with her taking up residence on my lap nearly the instant that I sat down. I had hoped to meet his son, but as it turned out, his mom was on island and had come to get him for the weekend. While I was disappointed, I was also a little relieved that we would have some time alone.

Our weekend together was quiet and relaxed and we enjoyed each other's company. There was a sense of belonging that came over me that was sweet and calming. When I'm with him, I just know that everything is going to be all right.

Saying goodbye at the end of our 48 hours was tough and the flight home was a nightmare, but it was worth every penny and every hour - sleepless though they were. Since then, he has read this entire blog -- and DIDN'T run screaming into the night. He has also witnessed a complete and total meltdown about babies, bless his heart. Interesting thing: he still loves me. Wow.

So, today I will work in my office and do some sorting and cleaning. I see no need to put things away just to pack them again in December, so I'll down-size some more and start packing my "Hawaii" boxes instead. I can't wait to wake up in that tiny condo beside my baby and gaze out our window at this gorgeous view... to be together every day... and every night. I can't wait for Hawaii to be home.

Pragmatism, Doubt and Hope

Since sharing my new love with friends and family I've been struck by the assortment of reactions I've received. They've ranged from incredulity to elation. What surprises me most is that the people I thought would be happiest for me -- the ones who've watched me wallow in the pits of miry clay, who've seen the tears, witnessed the disappointment and finally the resignation -- have nothing but warnings and doubts.

The past ten... no, make that fifteen years of my life have been filled with betrayal, disappointment, deception and despair. Why then, when happiness finally comes my way, must the nay-sayers try to steal that from me? I want to think that they have my best interest at heart, but part of me wonders... especially about my mother... Somehow, I think that nothing I ever do will be good enough for her. Damn - I'm 44 years old and still she can get to me with the tone of voice, the "well, you know, you never... or you always..." Sorry, mom. You don't get to steal THIS joy.

On the flip side, I have a dear friend who is as giddy as a school girl for me. As for me... I have hope for the first time in a long time... hope that love really does exist... hope that someone will love me... just little old me... just as I am... hope that it CAN be forever... hope - no, BELIEF, that I have finally found what's been missing in my life... who's been missing from my life... My love, my heart...

Sunrise

We talked until the sun came up.
Hearing your voice made the miles disappear and almost... almost made it seem as if you were near enough to touch...
Your laughter, your tears moved me beyond words
Just five more days, my love... and we will watch the sunrise together.

Joy Unspeakable...

and full of glory...

This scripture from First Peter speaks of love and belief... love and belief born of faith... sight unseen. I have always loved this scripture and the way it describes pure joy... I believe there is some of this kind of joy to be had on earth, for God gives good gifts to his children.

The Secret Room...

There has been a secret room in my heart since the day that my innocent view of love was destroyed. In that room, I kept my insecurities, my vulnerabilities and hid the scars and bruises of abuse and rejection. For years, I have kept the Secret Room locked... I've peeked through the keyhole from time to time, to make sure everything was safe and sound in there, but left its contents undisturbed, save to toss in a new hurt from time to time. I have always maintained the "Keep Out" sign on the door to that room and, while I have loved, I have not done so completely and while I have been loved, I have not fully given myself to that love.

Two weeks ago, that all began to change. God, sensing that the Secret Room was ready to be emptied, sent a dear, sweet man back into my life. This man has loved me since we were children and gave himself to me some twenty-five years ago -- shortly after the Secret Room came into being. When I looked at him then, I saw pure adoration in his eyes -- a love I did not feel I deserved -- and I pushed him away. I thought that surely if he saw all of the things locked away in that room, his eyes would turn cold and I couldn't bear that thought.

I now find myself standing at the door to the Secret Room -- key in hand -- nervous, yet knowing at the very core of who I am that this room no longer serves a purpose. I find myself wishing... longing... to stand before this man - exposed - unashamed - because I know and trust that each bruise will disappear, each scar will be kissed away and each insecurity will be erased with the strength of his love for me. I pray only that I can love him with the same unconditional love he has shown me... always.

Bid time to hasten you to my arms...

... I love Elizabethan prose... especially when it's addressed to me!!!!!

CAN'T WAIT!!!!!!!

Vacation Countdown Clock Generator

What if...

What if I hadn't broken your heart all those years ago...
What if we had married -- me, broken and wounded -- you, fiercely loyal and in love...
Would we have survived? Would there have been a bigger heart-break down the road?
As I look back on my past and as you take me on the journey through yours, it seems as if the Universe has conspired to create this perfect moment in which we find ourselves today. We have grown, we have suffered losses and we have been through the valleys - each on our own, but still in the secret places of our hearts we have carried the torch of the sweet, loving moment in time that we shared some twenty-five years ago.

While experience has both of us questioning the sanity of it all, our hearts are crying out with longing for the other... and not for the memories of the past, but for the possibilities of the future. What if we were to choose this time in life to be confined by propriety and stifled by fear? Would we squander this perfect gift that has been laid before us?

What if, instead, we surrender ourselves to the joy of love and run headlong into each others arms... What if we just say 'yes' to happiness?

Five hour conversation...

wow. Must sleep now... perchance to dream...

Come Away With Me...

Norah Jones' song has taken on new meaning... August 21st... weekend rendezvous ... many, many more 3 am conversations to come between now and then.