when I find myself in times of trouble


Sometimes life is just not much fun which I explain to my young adult children is why it sucks to be a grownup. I told them when they were younger too but they never listened then as children anxious to be grown up never do.

Today was one of those days where life pressed down a little too hard…a migraine…the eye twitchy thing…worrying about work (or lack of) and finances and a broke-ass car that we can’t afford to replace but replace we must and my kids (as their mom I always do worry every damn day because I’m their mom, dammit!)…dealing with my brother’s texts full of lectures and fears about Mommy Dearest’s colonoscopy because routine is never a reality for them which only served to amp up the eye twitchy thing into hyper-drive…and a scary-assed, WTF-is-happening-around-us, near miss driving from Stockton with my son in the car this afternoon. Quite frankly I just wanted to curl up into a ball and weep and wait for sleep or relief from any of what was pressing down upon me too hard to come.

And then the neighbors came over.

This kind of helps.

Actually it helps a lot.

boom, boom, boom, even brighter than the moon, ‘murica and all that sh!t


I really don’t care what you all might think but I hate the 4th of July.

Sorry.

No, not sorry.

I miss my brother. Today is his birthday. He should be here. But he’s not. Yeah, it’s been ten years, I know.

Whatever.

Grief is weird like that. It changes shape, but it never ends. Birthdays are hard. Birthdays are real hard. You bury your brother much too young then maybe you’ll understand. On second thought, I hope that you never do understand.

Thank goodness for my circus. They might not totally get the tears, the melancholy I feel when everyone else is waving the flags at the parades or boating and drinking or barbeque-ing or the blowing up fireworks because it’s ‘murica. But they do love me. They do care. That’s for real. We all should be so lucky to be surrounded like I was today…even when I was alone, sitting in my car at the car wash crying. I had this to come home to.

‘murica!

When I look to the sky something tells me you’re here with me
And you make everything alright
And when I feel like I’m lost something tells me you’re here with me
And I can always find my way when you are here

 

I’m with you kid. let’s go


Celebrating Jodie Grace Wynonna Scarborough’s moment in the way that even her school did not celebrate by recognizing her graduating from high school as Jodie Grace Wynonna Scarborough. It seems that the school will not announce the student’s name as they wish if it does not match to the name in their permanent record because insanity, foolishness and anarchy will result…HORRORS! At least that is what Mr. U., who announced Jodie’s name omitting “Wynonna” as she received her diploma, told us. He further explained that office staff reviews the names that the graduating seniors submit to be printed on their diploma and announced and if it doesn’t match with their school records the name is crossed off and replaced with the name on their records.

Yes, a little ridiculous. A lot disappointing. For the record, when Jodie was enrolled she was enrolled as Jodie Grace Wynonna but for some reason the school’s record couldn’t, wouldn’t fit the whole name so she was enrolled as Jodie Grace W. Can you imagine the chaos that would have resulted if her full name was announced?

Yes.

Exactly.

Perhaps it is not as ridiculous as a high school altering yearbook photos of female students to cover bare, exposed arms and shoulders. Nevertheless, it was a big deal and disappointment for at least one student.

Let us also take the time to recognize the elected Senior Class of 2014 officers, whose names were left off their commencement program and replaced with the ASB officers’ names, some of whom were not graduating seniors. Congratulations Macie Willis – Senior Class President, Claudia Hunter – Senior Class Vice President, Mackenzie Henricksen – Senior Class Secretary, Jodie Scarborough – Senior Class Treasurer. Thank you all of you for your leadership, your example and all of your hard work making this year the very best year for your class, the Class of 2014.

Now that we have got that all out, let’s commence with the commencement celebration, shall we?

If you have only one smile in you give it to people you love. Don’t be surly at home, then go out in the street and start grinning “Good Morning” at total strangers.

Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.

Courage is the most important of all virtues because without courage you cannot practice any other virtue without consistency. We cannot be kind, true, merciful, generous or honest.

We all should know that diversity makes for a rich tapestry, and we must understand that all the threads of the tapestry are equal in value no matter what their color.

Life loves to be taken by the lapel and told: “I’m with you kid. Let’s go.

Every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.

Do the best that you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.

Always, I hope to grow brighter, funnier. I hope to learn to be even more well-rounded. But right now, I cannot be any better than I am.

Everything in the universe has a rhythm. Everything dances.

I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.

You can only become truly accomplished at something you love. Don’t make money your goal. Instead, pursue the things you love doing, and then do them so well that people can’t take their eyes off of you.

Dr. Maya Angelou

 

 

 

just saying hi


You know how when you are having just one of those days where your head is dully throbbing or perhaps that crick in your neck is just a little bit tighter? Or maybe it’s one of those days where you are fighting that eye twitchy thingy that happens when you really don’t want it to happen. It’s just one of those days.

Then suddenly you look out the window and…

Of course you smile. How could you not. Heck, I smiled and I wasn’t even there to witness the random Smiley-face balloon that floated into JP’s Memorial Garden just outside of the NICU where I work because…WOW!

Hurray for social media! Thank you to my fellow colleague who shared this moment.

It’s been nine months.

How is that possible?

using the semicolon


When one becomes a person of a certain age, one sees their doctor more regularly…unless one is my darling husband who would rather hide from what the good doctor is recommending for him these days. He’ll wait until he’s bothered by his daily hacking-up-a-lung cough that becomes even worse than it already is or until his wife’s nagging becomes unbearable. Me, on the other hand, I do try to see my doctor annually and not just when I am sick. Just trying to walk the nurse talk of the importance of maintaining one’s good health, building trust with a good doctor-patient relationship and stuff like that there. So today was the day. The good doctor sits down with me going over the results of the physical exam and ordered tests. The physical exam…perfect. Cardiac function…perfect. Lab work…in his words his 30-something patients should have labs like these.

“You’re a perfect patient!”, he concludes.

“Yes, except for the depression, anxiety and panic attacks.”, I answer back.

“Yes, there’s that.”

And that is why I use a semicolon all the time.

A semicolon represents a sentence the author could have ended, but chose not to. Every single day of my life I choose to use a semicolon.

No, not usually with my writing. I know my use of punctuation could easily be criticized…and sometimes is. Have you seen how often I over-use an ellipsis?

No, the semicolon here represents the fact that my story isn’t over yet. Far from it. I am my author and the sentence is my life and as long as I choose to live this life I will choose to use the semicolon…every day.

Every.

Single.

Day.

Some days it is a struggle. Some days it can be almost a knock down, drag out fight. The fight to choose the semicolon, to keep myself grounded in the love others have for me instead of the hate I feel for myself, remains a struggle…and one I don’t always share for so many reasons. I hate being viewed as weak or less than or even just as someone who struggles. I hate being compared to the parent who far too many times in my lifetime tried to put a period at the end of her sentence. I can imagine her pain and her struggle. I lived survived a lot of it with her. It was so hard for her. So very hard. Still, no child should ever be the one to call for help because mommy won’t wake up…again. No child should ever have to try and get her younger siblings out of the house before the ambulance comes to protect them from seeing mommy this way. No child should have to run down the hill that was Davis Lane to flag down the ambulance because you can’t see that gravel road very well in the dark of night. Add that to the many reasons why I, every day, consciously choose to use a semicolon.

I should be stronger than this.

I should be braver than this.

I will always have anxiety. I will struggle from time to time with debilitating depression. I will sometimes become frozen in panic for no rational reason whatsoever. I will, at times, choose poor coping mechanisms. But I will always choose the semicolon.

My story isn’t over yet.

The Semicolon Project 416