Category: June

Have I enough gas?

So there I was, in my bed, staring up at the ceiling fan going in circles.  I was having one of the moments where I knew I had things to do, but I was slowing down.  The cool air felt good.  Denver has been so hot lately, especially last Saturday when I was having a house warming party.  Goodness, that was a blast!  There were dogs on the grill, side dishes, music, and people playing volleyball intoxicated.  I should have gotten a video of that.  While I was laying there, I was thinking of all the things I’ve been handling… car being damaged, in the middle of a house sale, getting the roof fixed, the insurance companies, the party, and dealing with a roommate who’s trying to micro manage my life.   I believe the roommate is draining me most of all.  She’s 51 and acts like she’s 12.  Drama Queen.  Goodness it’s like I have to deal with a child.  I wish I could record some of the conversations I have with her.  haha  Sigh.  So as the ceiling fan made it’s rounds, I decided the best thing for me was to take a quarter off of school.  As soon as I sat with the decision, a weight was lifted off of me.  10 weeks of time off to sort out of my life like my paper work in my filing cabinets.  It’s a much needed vacation.  I’ll go back to school with a steady strong pace to conquer.  This decision is going to be better for my grades too.  I need a break and fix some other parts of my life that need fixing.


Silent speech

I was going through paperwork and organizing my life into file cabinets when I came across something.  It was about time I get myself fully organized and not half ass it anymore.  This includes school.   If I have to go back, I’ll know exactly where I can find the information.  Sometimes your world feels so silent, even with the melodies of music or people are in the background.  Something happened to me yesterday that made me realize that I’m not relaxed even when I’m relaxed.  I’m stressed and I have no outlet.  I’m planning to fix this.  Some people have vices, like a personal release for them.  Some smoke cigarettes, some drink, and others might immerse themselves deeply into something they love.  I’m thinking that’s what I’ll do. Immerse deeply.  A full soak of soul relaxation.  As to what I will do, I have no clue.  Maybe others will have suggestions.

Anyway I’m getting off track.  I found a poem that was written for my mother and I by a friend for the funeral.  I never read it.  I was too scared to get up there and just cry without words.  I couldn’t even get my legs to work properly.  I had so many guest to attend to, especially a General of the United States Air Force.  I was numb and scared.  Honestly, I feel like the only time I talk about this is on this blog.  I think maybe that’s why I haven’t blogged much.   People get tired of reading or hearing the same thing over and over again.  Yet this is my life and what I’m carrying around in my heart.  I’m tired, numb, and I don’t give a shit.   It’s not an attitude I carry around with me, just a feeling.  I’m tired of that feeling.  I just wish I could I get over it and move on.  How do you get over death of a loved one?  Does talking about it really help?  Some people make me feel like I’m a burden.  Well, then fine, I’m a burden but at least I *feel* something.

Over all I’m happy, I’m feeling quite strong towards my future, and I am blessed with what I have.  I can’t complain.  Yet I’ll tell you, it’s like death took the taste out of the foods I eat, made life’s colors pale, and everything is silent.   It’s the best way I can explain how I feel on some days.  Maybe ignoring it isn’t the best plan, but I have been.  I’m immersing myself in friends and activities and most of the time, it’s forced.  Don’t get me wrong, I want to hang out and do things, but I have to force myself to get there.  Once there, I’m fine.  I have so much to say, but the words never reach their destination.  Sometimes I leave the house because I feel caged.  The reminders of her, like her ashes,  push me out of the house.  I drink more coffee because Starbucks is open late and the voices of strangers break some of the silence.  I don’t care for bars and I’m sure drinking would just make it worse.

I know my life is simple compared to many.  I shouldn’t complain, but I hurt.  There, I said it.  I’m hurt.  I feel pain and it can’t be cured by Tylenol, Advil, or any other stronger drug like morphine.

The silent speech…

A Rose From A Rose

She was born, unique in her surroundings

A rose among the cactus, her beauty was astounding

Petals were as delicate as lace made out of love

But she could always show her thorns if push come to shove

Weeds grew all around her, but she didn’t mind

The rose was not just stunning, she was also kind

She always took the time to make friends out of foes

And make all the little weeds feel just like a rose

With flowery minds and weeds together in a tryst

All growing calm in harmony, making their own bliss

Symbiotic by choice and not merely by design

The weeds interlace together, and join the flowery mind

She shone like a beacon through lovely desert nights

The weeds and cacti see her and would know things were right

Her strength was born of love and a devotion to her seed

Which she planted long ago, another rose among life’s weeds

She was plucked before her time by the Gardner up above

And even in her passing, the world still feels her love

Look at me and see the strength she planted long ago

I am the rose from the rose and I will miss her so

Her name was Angela and she was my mom.