I have to admit, I don't know Jack Shit or anything about him, but sometimes I can fool myself into thinking that I do. It's like I'm starring in, watching and producing a reality show about my own life, with no "real" perspective to offer. Even going to therapy, as useful as it was while I was going, provided insights that came from someone else. Because my therapist was, well, is, a fine physician, she allowed me ample opportunity to "reflect" on choices I'd made, things I'd said, actions I'd taken. This in turn was to help me be better prepared for the "next" time one of these situations arose. However, because one of my major flaws is my inability to follow through on many tasks, the "reflection" became more of an improv scene where she asked questions and I tap danced my way around them. Real reflection takes time, effort, space and an ability to only produce your own show and not star in it simultaneously.
I got hit by the Mack truck flu on Sunday and I am not exaggerating this one in the least. For four days, I left the bed only to go to the bathroom and sit in the shower until the water went cold, oh, and to pee, but I figured that was implied by the bathroom statement. Anyway, the nausea and bodyaches were so bad on Monday that my fluids were ingested in the form of liquid Nyquil for the day. At one point Tim drove me to the Emergency Room because I just felt, well, SICK and I figured they might take pity on me and give me some drugs or some fluids or some drugs and fluids. When he dropped me off, I walked through the doors and it was like Contagion 2 the sequel... foolishly, I signed in and the nurse took my vitals telling me that it would be, Oh, Um, about 3 hours or so. I stood up, thanked her, walked out, called Tim and went back on the Nyquil. Now, 6 days later, I am up and about, but the cough that is erupting from my chest makes me think I may as well take up smoking, at least the nicotine would feel good while I cough up a lung... I haven't been this sick in a long time. Maybe I haven't had the time, as the long running joke goes for most moms or working women. We just don't have the time to be sick. Sometimes that is true. On Day 3, Ty told me that he wanted to stay home from school so that he could "take care of me." Damn that's sweet. Or was it... The kids have all had some form of this monster, Tim too. It's brutal and I hear that it is getting worse for some. Oh, and I HAD a flu shot.
So today, feeling a bit better and because the weather was like summer weather, Ty and I went up to the Botanical Gardens in Rancho Palos Verdes. We walked, took short cuts, talked about the flowers, he peed in the bushes, twice, when no one was around and then we set down a blanket, took out his legos and he built a little car. It was quiet and warm and so peaceful. Our only interruption was a little squirrel who ran right up ON our blanket and sat there staring at us. Ty was cracking up, but we literally didn't have a crumb to give him, so he just stared at us for another 30 seconds or so and off he went. I've never seen a squirrel just sit there, that close before. It was great. On our way out, Ty was the leader and I watched him as he stopped in every corner, looked under every bench, picked up every stick, until his arms were full and proceeded to try to hack his own way through the "wilderness" even though the path was just off to the left. When we passed the gift shop, I asked him if there was something small he wanted, like a little cactus or a flower. He ran inside and came up to the front with a KitKat bar. Ah youth. We ended up with no KitKat and a 3-D model TRex. It was a really great ending to an otherwise crappy week. The next time I spend 4 days in bed, it better be with Jason Statham and my body better be aching for reasons other than the flu...
I was thinking today about the immediate future, the next couple of years really. We are going to have to move again. Rent is too high for where we are now financially and we have taken a beating these past few years. It's time to do a serious overhaul and as most of well know, now is the time of year to be thinking about changing a few things: weight, lovers, friends, jobs, homes. I suppose it's easy to look back and reminisce, we all do, but I think in a way, it's easier to look forward. Not really knowing what's going to happen is easier because you can make the choices to create new choices and new outcomes, what's past is past, and as hard as things are, as much as they hurt, we cannot change them. We can only focus on what we now want to change for the future. So, that's what I was considering, the future. Where we will physically be a year from now, but also where we will be emotionally, spiritually, psychologically. Will this year be one of struggle? Of course it will, but I think that it's also going to be a year of really great moments, very special ones that mark milestones in people's lives. I have no reason to think that, other than every night when I kiss Ty's cheek and he puts his little arms around me, I am reminded that life is so precious and time is truly fleeting. And I keep thinking about all of the amazing people that I've met and how they've changed my life due to a phone call almost 5 years ago. If fear keeps us from succeeding or moving forward then it also, ironically, frees us from failure. When we are afraid, it makes the victory all the more powerful because we accomplished a task through our fear.
When I was little, my mom used to sing me Peter, Paul and Mary's "Puff the Magic Dragon" and tonight, Ty asked me to sing it to him, as he often does. "Sing the Puff song Mom." Yes indeed. I have to wonder if one day Jackie Paper woke up, middle aged and thought, I wonder what ever happened to Puff? I wonder if he's still alive? While Puff was heartbroken. I used to think it was such a sad song, even though I loved it, but a couple of years ago I looked at it differently. I don't know why, I just thought, that's childhood. Love, grow, leave. I don't mean abandon your friends and relationships, but instead, that is a huge part of loving people, of opening yourself up. The experience will inevitably break you; they will die, leave, disappear, break your heart or, you may be the one to end the relationship. Either way, whichever way, love opens us up to fear and worry because we don't want to lose it. We want to keep it with us, the way most parents do when they check on their sleeping children before securing the front door lock one more time. I accept the reality of what is to come and I am thankful to not know how much time I have left because I'd probably just piss it all away worrying about spending too much time worrying. Or worse, analyzing everything. There are many things that I miss about my childhood, about my school days. Too many to count really. I really miss lying under the coffee table watching t.v. sideways and I miss how my mom used to use a little scooper to make watermelon balls out of half of the watermelon (I never do that, not sure why exactly) and I miss the freedom of not having to take care of anyone but myself. Selfish as that may sound, sometimes the worry and fret keep me up at night. Their well being is my main priority and if I fuck that up, well, Puff may as well move over in that cave because no one is coming to see me either.
I've always been pretty good with people; I like people, except when they piss me off. Lately, the past few years though, I've gotten better with words and people. Writing has become more than a means of "expression." That is trite. No, words are the intermediaries, the boundaries between who I am and who you are. They connect us, virtually and literally. I just say what I am thinking in that moment, mostly for myself but sometimes for you. I hope that makes sense. It probably doesn't.
Ty is asleep already. He has found his way back into our bed and although I KNOW that every parenting book on the planet says that I should put him back in his own bed, I'm not going to, no, tonight, I'm going to curl up next to him and smell his hair and be thankful that I got another day. And for those who are battling, who are trying to get through another day, I hope you find some peace tonight. Sleep well and I told ya... whole lotta something about nothing. Hey, there's always tomorrow...
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