Approaching San Francisco . . . .
I've finally had some sleep, and we are approaching San Francisco, so my mood has lifted considerably. Time for fun!! Let me begin by saying that were it not for this four day escape, I might have had that breakdown I've been on the verge of for a few years. Whew!!
My friend Kenny, whose birthday we were all gathering to celebrate, is just a wonderful person. I felt honored to have been invited along on this trip, and to be included with his family and other friends who played a part in his life. Seriously! Kenny and I went to high school together in New Orleans, and were friends then, but have become much greater friends through more recent years. He's got a generous and happy heart, and likes to share that. I was traveling with my own emotional baggage I was trying to lose in transit, but Kenny had his to, due to recent breakup with his partner of the last decade. I believe he and I were really ready to change the course of things for ourselves. We were at 50, new decade, new start, all that good stuff. Out with the old, in with the new and improved. This was it!
As it turns out, with this group of family and friends, we could have been in Fargo, North Dakota, and would have had a blast! (No offense intended, Fargo.) I jumped into a group which varied in size at different times from 12-18, and felt like I had known them forever. I was back in my New Orleans element, and it was relaxed, fun, and just plain good. There is an attitude of N.O. people you just don't get anywhere else. I miss it, and so badly needed it! I don't remember the last time I laughed as much. Every experience, riding the ferry, a catamaran sail at sunset, running through Muir Woods because we were out of time, sitting on the shuttle bus, eating spoonfuls of garlic sauce at The Stinking Rose, touring vineyards, the party bus while touring vineyards, the birthday dinner at the winery of one of Kenny's old friends, the way we all just gelled together as if we did this all the time . . . the wine, champagne, more wine, and yet more wine . . . . it was simply perfect. Although my own selfish desire to escape and be happy was ever present, I so badly wanted my friend to see how much he was loved and cherished by so many, and remind him that endings only bring new beginnings. Start anew, and create exactly what we want for ourselves. I want my dear friend to have all that he wants in this life, which only he completely knows.
I recently had a conversation with someone in a rather unhappy place in life, and asked, "what do you want from this life?" It's a big question, but the most important one ever. What is the first thing, maybe even one word, that comes to mind when asked what it is you want from this life? As a big question, you may think that a simple answer is too, well, simple or general, but it's really not. The answer is the big picture you want. The details are in how you achieve it, how you work toward it, and how you appreciate the bumps along the way. There are always bumps.
Over the course of the 4 days in SF, I began to ponder the question again myself. I was also reminded of what the answer to the question was for me. My answer, the big picture one, is two-fold: love and happiness. Of course we all want love, but that's not what I'm talking about. I know I am loved by my family and friends. It is what carries me, comforts me, warms my heart. The love I'm talking about though is the kind that warms my soul. My soul is weary, it has been battered, and it is time to heal. There was once someone who told me repeatedly that I was unlovable. I knew he was wrong, and not just wrong, but stupid. However, sometimes those dagger words pierce the skin, enter the soul, and allow some of it to escape. Other injuries and scars are made by more harsh words, betrayal, and dishonesty. Eventually, the scar tissue blocks out those soul rays, and the light begins to fade. My light will fade no more. It is already warming up, and I am confident that it will once again be a full glow. The pilot light is lit. So that's the first part. The second part is happiness.
The happiness I want from this life has never been completely absent, even in the darkest times, but I want more of it. I want to be greedy for it, hog it for myself, and wallow in it. I'm not talking about just having a good day. I want laughter, lots of laughter! On this trip to SF, I was reminded of how much I love to laugh. I love it! I like being silly. I like being inappropriate. I like being surrounded by people who joke and play, and who love to share it. I find so much of that in my connection to New Orleans, but I want it everywhere I am. I may very well end up back there some day, but I have no intention of waiting until and if that time comes. I have troubles in my heart, things I can't fix, but I refuse, even more staunchly to let that win out. I have described our group that weekend as not being a quiet and subtle group. Thank goodness! We carried with us an overflow of happiness, joy, and fun, and others around couldn't help but join in. The crew of the catamaran was laughing, smiling, and having fun as they watched us revel in the mere fact that we were all there together and happy. At the Russian River Vineyards a few of the group spontaneously began a rendition of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day," which was followed by the Who Dat chant. Others at the vineyard came to see what was going on and couldn't help but feel our joy. The young man who led our wine tasting said, "I have no idea what just happened here, but that was freakin' AWESOME! I wish we had more people like you all come through here." That joy, that happiness, I want more. I don't want to feel inhibited about it. I don't care what anyone thinks if I choose to be silly and make a joyful fool of myself. I just want more of it. More!
No matter what happened before I left for SF, by the time I came back four days later, I had regained focus of my "what do I want out of this life" question. Intuitively, I know that I have turned a corner, not just chronologically, but psychologically. I pray that my friend Kenny feels himself turning that corner too. I thought turning 40 was going to open my life up again, but I was a bit premature. Fifty is the start of the new. Let's do this thing!
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Turning 50 . . . .part I (the ugh part)
It has been months since I last wrote. It's not that there hasn't been anything on my mind; quite the contrary. Sometimes I just need to reflect for a while before I really know what I want to say. Then again, sometimes I'm just lazy. I'm thinking the lazy part most appropriately applies here, but there has been much to ponder. Today is May 30, and I am now 10 days into my 5th decade. Yes, on May 20, I turned the big 5 0 !!! This was not a traumatic event for me, as I know it is with some. In fact, I see it as a time to begin again, a fresh start, a new chapter in life, etc.
Let me explain how I spent my 50th birthday. . . . the day itself pretty much sucked, except for the part where I was at work and my students and co-workers graciously wished me good things. At home was another story. The previous couple of days had been spent with my oldest son in the emergency room as he was withdrawing from meth, heroin, and God knows what else. I had to let him come home with me to keep an eye on him for a few days. I cleaned up vomit from the bathtub, and on my birthday, as I speedily tried to get out the door for work, had to clean vomit from the kitchen sink. Drugs suck, but you've been hearing that from me for quite a while now, so I won't go on with that. During the day, he texted me that he was throwing up blood. Right after work, back to the ER we go. FIVE HOURS LATER . . . . we're still waiting to be seen, and we leave. Seems that he's feeling much better now. Unfortunately, that nice steak dinner my younger son and I planned to have for my birthday didn't seem possible. In the end, we made it to the restaurant at 9:30, and closed it down. That was my birthday. No pomp and circumstance, just another day, but I felt differently. In a good way, differently.
None of the above really mattered though because two days later, I would be leaving for a fun-filled weekend in San Francisco! This excursion was the brain child of a dear high school friend from New Orleans. Friends and family of his were all going out to San Francisco to celebrate HIS 50th, which was coming on May 25th. All I had to do was deliver the younger son to his father, drop off the older son wherever he was choosing to live at the moment, take the dog to the vet for boarding, and make it through a day of work. Here's how that Wednesday went down . . . woke up to older son feeling better and younger son throwing up from a stomach virus. Awesome! More barf! Yuck! Ok, off to work. Come home, drop off younger son, and then proceed to have hours of crap from older son. Turns out he had no intention of leaving. Verbal and emotional abuse, screaming at me, telling me I'd have to call the police to get him to leave, etc. Yes, I understand that he would very much like to have "home" again, but home doesn't ever work for him. This was a big reminder of why. I sat there, listening to all of it, it brought me back to what I used to deal with from his father, and I just became paralyzed. I just stopped moving, thinking, etc. Sat there. With the help of a friend, we managed to get him out of the house without calling the police, she got me started on packing, and I got a couple of hours of sleep before work.
Thursday, flying out to SF day . . . . older son texted a sincere apology, younger son texted to make sure I was ok and that his brother and the drama was gone. We love him dearly, but his addiction and behavior does not allow him to be with us. Stomach is in knots all day about the previous evening. When dealing with an addict, you always wonder if maybe this time was the time I should have done something but didn't. Truth is, only the addict can do something. The emotional hurt of the parent is astronomical, and I'm sure my son says the same thing from his view. For this new decade, I make the vow of putting MY needs on the table, and not giving the addiction as much time. I've gotten so much better, but still so easy to fall into the mind games.
Please, let's just get on the damn plane and escape for a few days!!!! At the airport, and on the plane, the reflecting, which I had so looked forward to, was finally beginning. My brain relaxed enough to process the birthday, and the terrible week so far. Put it behind, gain perspective, focus on the fun weekend ahead, have some fun for ME, especially with old friends. The smile returns to my face. Wheels up . . . . heading to San Francisco.
End of Part I . . . . go to the next entry for the fun part!
Let me explain how I spent my 50th birthday. . . . the day itself pretty much sucked, except for the part where I was at work and my students and co-workers graciously wished me good things. At home was another story. The previous couple of days had been spent with my oldest son in the emergency room as he was withdrawing from meth, heroin, and God knows what else. I had to let him come home with me to keep an eye on him for a few days. I cleaned up vomit from the bathtub, and on my birthday, as I speedily tried to get out the door for work, had to clean vomit from the kitchen sink. Drugs suck, but you've been hearing that from me for quite a while now, so I won't go on with that. During the day, he texted me that he was throwing up blood. Right after work, back to the ER we go. FIVE HOURS LATER . . . . we're still waiting to be seen, and we leave. Seems that he's feeling much better now. Unfortunately, that nice steak dinner my younger son and I planned to have for my birthday didn't seem possible. In the end, we made it to the restaurant at 9:30, and closed it down. That was my birthday. No pomp and circumstance, just another day, but I felt differently. In a good way, differently.
None of the above really mattered though because two days later, I would be leaving for a fun-filled weekend in San Francisco! This excursion was the brain child of a dear high school friend from New Orleans. Friends and family of his were all going out to San Francisco to celebrate HIS 50th, which was coming on May 25th. All I had to do was deliver the younger son to his father, drop off the older son wherever he was choosing to live at the moment, take the dog to the vet for boarding, and make it through a day of work. Here's how that Wednesday went down . . . woke up to older son feeling better and younger son throwing up from a stomach virus. Awesome! More barf! Yuck! Ok, off to work. Come home, drop off younger son, and then proceed to have hours of crap from older son. Turns out he had no intention of leaving. Verbal and emotional abuse, screaming at me, telling me I'd have to call the police to get him to leave, etc. Yes, I understand that he would very much like to have "home" again, but home doesn't ever work for him. This was a big reminder of why. I sat there, listening to all of it, it brought me back to what I used to deal with from his father, and I just became paralyzed. I just stopped moving, thinking, etc. Sat there. With the help of a friend, we managed to get him out of the house without calling the police, she got me started on packing, and I got a couple of hours of sleep before work.
Thursday, flying out to SF day . . . . older son texted a sincere apology, younger son texted to make sure I was ok and that his brother and the drama was gone. We love him dearly, but his addiction and behavior does not allow him to be with us. Stomach is in knots all day about the previous evening. When dealing with an addict, you always wonder if maybe this time was the time I should have done something but didn't. Truth is, only the addict can do something. The emotional hurt of the parent is astronomical, and I'm sure my son says the same thing from his view. For this new decade, I make the vow of putting MY needs on the table, and not giving the addiction as much time. I've gotten so much better, but still so easy to fall into the mind games.
Please, let's just get on the damn plane and escape for a few days!!!! At the airport, and on the plane, the reflecting, which I had so looked forward to, was finally beginning. My brain relaxed enough to process the birthday, and the terrible week so far. Put it behind, gain perspective, focus on the fun weekend ahead, have some fun for ME, especially with old friends. The smile returns to my face. Wheels up . . . . heading to San Francisco.
End of Part I . . . . go to the next entry for the fun part!
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