Tag Archives: love

Twisted Love

When I was a teenager, we had a cat named Dusty. He was an inside/outside kinda guy. On his outdoor excursions, he would bring us gifts. Running up the porch steps only to be halted by a dead bird is definitely not the best greeting. For me, it was gross. For him, though, it was love. Twisted, yea, but cats are special like that. After a while, I got used to his dead little woodland gifts. I found a way to let go of my perceptions and accepted his.

People can be Dustys. They go out and plop dead stuff on the Welcome mat. “Welcome,” they say, “I love you. See?” If you are smart, you roll with it. You pick it up and toss it in the neighbor’s bushes, always giving them the side eye. If you are too hung up on how wrong it is, you leave it to rot and decay. The stink rising to greet you day in and day out. I am guilty of letting other’s Dusty-gifts sit and stew until the stink was unbearable. Stubborn to the core.

Letting go is not my strong suit. I hold onto everything for far too long. But I can be the bigger person. I have proof. I can also be pretty petty (for which I also have proof). In the end, I suppose it is all about letting go of my perception and let others have theirs. What is right and what I feel is right does not negate the fact that from their vantage point they see right, too. Their right is stupid (btw), but who am I to judge? If I let go…If I unclench my fists and rest my heart, I won’t have to smell the stink. I can just chuck it up to a twisted kind of love, toss it over the fence and carry on.

~SM

Loving Longtime

My parents celebrated forty-one years of marriage recently. Forty. One. That does not even count the years of dating. For forty-one years, this man and woman have endured sickness, health, wife-strikes (which will go down in history as the best ever), bad gifts, amazing surprises, yours truly and three grandchildren. For forty-one years this man has loved this woman, and this woman has loved this man. They have weathered big storms, both literal and figurative, losses and gains. They not only grew up together, but they grew together. For more than half their lives they have loved one another in light and in dark.

It takes more than human strength not to wrap your hands around a neck and squeeze, especially after enduring their bs on a daily. Just hearing them cough can send a person into fits of crazy, but somehow people manage. If flesh was in charge, we would all be under the jailhouse. Thank God it isn’t. Thank God we get to choose love, or shall I say, love chooses us. It sneaks in when we know little more than our mother’s voices and builds a foundation.

Love is a tricky thing. Love endures what we can’t. Love cleans up Stomachbugmagedon hot dog vomit out of the bathroom sink. Love invites forgiveness to sit at the table for birthdays and family dinners. It stands in the cold and rain just for a glimpse of a dream. It brunches on Sundays no matter how exhausted or how long the to-do list may be. Love stands in the gap when we choose not to.

I watch my parents interact. They move quietly around one another, their history and their love filling an entire room. It really is that simple, isn’t it? No extras or absurd rules and judgments. No special colored glasses. Just…love. In its most natural form, it can fill a room and there will still be more left to give.

I am learning, how to operate in love fully. If you have been with me during rush hour you know I have a ways to go, but I am a work in progress. Right now my heart is full with just enough love for myself and The Family, but someday it will grow three sizes (and I might even find the strength of ten Sadie’s plus two). I am taking a page out of The Parents’ playbook. They have endured much, both individually and collectively, but at the very root of it all is love. And in the quiet moments, they show it–no boasting, no impatience, no selfishness–just love.

~SM

Happy Anniversary Sadie May!

Whelp…we made it. We made it through The Split, The Boy’s and The Girl’s antics. We made it through the confusion of Life and the possibility of New Love. We moved out of our old home and tipped our hats to good times. We had discussions about sweaty armpits and naked vaginas. We grew a little stronger as time passed. We learned that thinking too much is definitely not a good thing. It has been a fun, full ride. We made it.

A lot can happen in a year. It is safe to say not only did I manage to pack away a marriage, but I also opened myself up to love again. I managed to grow up a little and be okay with who I grew into. A lot can happen in 365 days.

Kay, a good running buddy of mine, suggested (well…pushed is more like it) I write in this arena. I am so glad she did. She said it would do me some good to get it all out. I can’t say she was wrong. I am pretty sure you don’t always want to hear about what goes on in my life. There are real life tragedies happening out there everyday. Reading about random things like what to wear on a first date or wearing The Boy’s deodorant is not exactly life changing. But just knowing that you stuck around to take a peek anyway means the world.

So, cheers to us because we made it! Here’s to another 365. Who knows what will happen next 😉

Yours Truly,

Sadie May

Goin’ To The Chapel And We’re…

No. Not me. I am not getting married, but a friend of mine (Big Show) is and I voluntarily immersed myself in the sea of wedding stuff. It has been a conversation between Big Show and I for the past month and it has me thinking….is marriage all that bad?

Truth be told, my parents have been together for about 40 years and they are both relatively young (in an old person young kinda way), so they might have another 40 years to go. That’s 80 years with the same person….day in….day out. Their mud butts, their farts, their snores, their laughs, their illnesses, their boogers….80 years. The thought of that makes me sweat and break out into hives.

But the flip side is (and yes, I am officially acknowledging the actual flip side to marriage–ugh) love. My parents love one another. The two recent couples I witnessed jumping the broom clearly love one another. Marriage is complicated, no doubt about that, but if the bond is love….isn’t that enough?

Sifting through all of this wedding crap is fun in a girly kinda way, but in the end when everything is stripped away and it is just the bride and her groom that is where the fun begins. Thinking of it that way doesn’t make it so scary. Could I actually consider marriage again? Mmmmmmm……idunno. That 80 year thing kinda has me spooked. For now, though, I will leave the fluffy dresses and flowers to Big Show. I’ll giggle and sift through a bajillion bridal mags all the while pretending not to be breaking out into hives 😛

~SM

 

What IS This, Exactly?

I am not one for a bunch of emotion. I think these past two years have been the most outwardly emotional I have been in quite some time (or maybe ever). I know what those look/feel like. I know what fear looks like; I know what joy feels like; I know what anger says….but as of late I am a walking cesspool of butterflies and smiles. WTF is that???

I caught myself smiling at the ceiling at work one morning–lost in thought. I found myself battling butterflies and squishy insides one afternoon. I called Brooklyn yesterday and literally screamed in her ear for no reason other than just to get whatever this crap is out. What is happening to me?

I left my car keys hanging in the car door. I left my office keys hanging in my desk drawer. I can barely string together a sentence or comprehend what people are saying because my brain is like scrambled eggs (gosh that sounds good right now…I’m starving…see what I mean…lost focus). My heart skips beats and I swear I blush about 50 times a day. I am a walking, barely talking skin bag full of squishiness and fog.

Even now I sit with butterflies in my belly, floating from one end to another. Do I have some sort of disease? Is it Shingles? I have had chicken pox, you know. Scarlet Fever? The Flu? It’s not crabs because my gentiles don’t itch. And, no, I am not with child–this uterus is on lock down. Perhaps the Zombie Virus is a real thing and my body is fighting it with a vengeance? Whatever is happening, it feels funky but it feels good. I feel like I am floating beyond Cloud 9.

~SM

Cinderella: The Demise of Relationship Reality

I sat in a theater seat next to The Girl and watched wide eyed and hopeful as (Cinder)Ella found her true love. I can’t lie, I believed in that whole story book love until a few years ago. I believed in Prince Charmings and Love At First Sightings. I believed that love is everlasting and can heal all ails. I believed in big beautiful dresses and romantic moments. I believed the fairy tales spun for my enjoyment as a little girl and I carried the possibility of those tales with me for well over 30 years. Sitting there, watching ‘true love’ spill off of the screen left me with a bad taste in my mouth. Reality is far from that depiction of relationships. It saddened me a bit.

I remember the year I told the kids Santa wasn’t real. It changed Christmas forever. It just doesn’t feel the same. The magical bubble had been popped and now it feels like just another lazy t.v. watching day off from school and work. Watching Cinderella felt similar. The magical bubble of true love and fairy god-mothers and beautiful dresses and Prince Charmings had been popped. It felt just like another lazy movie watching day off from work and school.

At some point little girls began to believe in the picture Cinderella and her Prince painted. The ugly duckling, the diamond in the rough being polished by true love (which prevails all–even ugly stepmothers).  The long suffering turned into happily ever after by the mere locking of eyes and the glitter of goodness. The happily ever after was left to the imagination of girls barely old enough to spell their names. They believed Cinderella and her Prince lived in a beautiful home with beautiful happy children and fortune always. Little did they know none of it was true.

The wedding with gowns and tuxes and grand parties and glasses clinking is a nod in Cinderella’s direction. The big houses filled with 2 kids (one of each gender), a dog and a cat are nods into Cinderella’s direction. But where is the debt or the sleepless nights? Where are the ‘i hate you’s’ or the ‘i’m leaving’s? Where are the dirty diapers and the lay offs? Where is the changing of the guard when the infamous ‘mid-life crisis’ hits? Where is the day when love just isn’t enough?

I sat next to The Girl a little sad for her. Relationship reality was found no where near Cinderella and her handsome (deliciously gorgeous) Prince, and should she choose to believe in the story unfolding on the silver screen it might come with a rude awakening someday. I stared at the screen hoping to naively believe in that again, but to no avail. It was no use. Relationship reality has set in and set up shop. Perhaps it is best–fairy tales belong in story books and on silver screens…not in homes filled with bills and dirty diapers.

~SM

Freestyle Friday: God Is Good

All the time. Won’t He just do it? Isn’t He just on time all of the time? I love God just because He is God. His dreams for me are bigger than I could ever fathom. His vision stretches farther than my vision could ever go. His direction is correct every time. So, for those who need a little reminder of how good He is and the job you still have left to do–here it goes. Whenever I am feeling the need for nudge for focus on the Greater, this is what I blast. Happy Friday! And keep rockin–you’ve got this. Just trust. It all works for your good.

The Boy: A Born Day Love Letter

Boy,

Maybe one day, when you are old and gray (like me lol) you will come across this letter. I will not dare give it to you now, you will not be able to absorb most of what I am about to say.

God gives us choice, free will. He allows us to come and go, be and do as we see fit, and yet there are times in life (usually the big moments) He introduces us to something greater than ourselves. Such was the case with you.

Your father and I have not done everything right, but if we have done just the least little bit correct, it was having you and your sister. Most parents will look at their children and say they are cute or special, but for us this is not the case. You are truly special. It has been all over you, even before you were born.  I knew it watching you move from one side of my belly to the other. I knew it watching you attempt to run long before you learned to walk (or crawl for that matter). I knew it seeing you step onto the baseball field for the first time.

You have grown into an amazing young man with such love and such heart it is almost scary to think of you out in the world with such depth. Not everyone will see it, nor should they be privy to it. You may not always understand your own depth or your own emotions, and that is perfectly okay. God crafted you to be exactly who you are for the greater good. You, son, will forever serve the greater good if you keep yourself humble, thankful, loving, and giving.

Never stop growing. Always be a student of the game. Keep competing. Keep protecting. Keep striving. Keep pushing. Nothing can stop you from that which is divinely yours. People/Things will try to break your concentration…to change your tracks…but keep your head on and keep it clear. Hold onto your vision and you will, indeed, reach the prizes awaiting.

I am uncertain if you will ever become what you are hoping. I am uncertain if I will ever get to sit in the outfield, right behind you, watching you draped in pinstripes. I am uncertain if I will ever see you awarded for an honor or a broken record. I am uncertain of your path or your destination, but I am certain about one thing and this only: You are truly, deeply, unconditionally loved.

Yours Always,

Mommy

Changing Status

There. I said it. I have been keeping it close to the chest for a few days now, unsure of the reaction it would elicit (unsure of my own reaction).

It feels strange. Not that anything has changed per say, but just the fact that there is now another layer being added to our–uhh–The Us is an odd fit (saying the word ‘relationship’ when speaking of the romantic variety is hard to actually say…it gets stuck in my throat…it’s a work in progress).

For the past 5 months or so, Young Gun and I have been conversing on a friendly (but a little more than friendly) level. Butterflies, stolen flirty glances, and swift middle school kisses have floated in and out of our pretend relationship for a while. I made sure to keep all options open (as did he) and just simply enjoy the pretend. Funny thing about pretending–if you do it long enough, you are bound to start the real thing.

Quite honestly (despite the apparent inability to say the word ‘relationship’), I am happier. He does not expect me or want me to be anything other than myself. He totally digs my fro, prefers jeans, sneeks, and a naked face over 5″ heels and short skirts, and believes I can do whatever I put my mind to. When I told him about The Marathon, he didn’t double over in laughter for 10 minutes (yes…that actually happened to me before). When my hair is huge & ridiculously fro-ish, he gives me a high five and smiles. When he sees me in jeans and a tee shirt, it is like metal to a magnet. I can say weird stuff or laugh at terrible jokes or drag him to see awful chick flicks and he accepts it all. He constantly reminds me to not open the door for myself or carry things when he is around.  He knows which weekends are my free weekends without me ever saying a word. He is respectful of my children and the space I require for them. I. Am. Happier.

I am still riding this ride one day at a time. I am still just having fun. I am still just keeping pace. I am still putting focus where it is needed. There is no pressure to be anything other than myself; no pressure to do anything other than what I do; no pressure to go where I don’t normally go. He is simple. This is simple. We are simple. And after the long journey I had before, simple (and slow) is just fine by me. Now…about those wedding dresses….(NOT!)  😛

~SM

Accepting The Unaccepted

Never in my life have I felt accepted. Throughout school I always felt like an outsider. During my marriage I always felt like The He was looking for something else. Even among my friends, today, I do not feel completely comfortable with being exactly who I am. No, they have never asked me to be anything different and to be quite honest (outside of a few relationships/circumstances) no one has actually come right out and said there was something wrong with me. The feeling is there, none-the-less.

Very recently I figured out the only way to get over the feeling of exclusion was to accept the unaccepted: Me. Sure, I have said it before, but I never fully felt it until now. I do not expect to feel secure in self 24/7 (i.e. Forever Never The Dancer), but I do expect to feel comfortable in my own skin.

Perhaps it comes from getting older, or perhaps it comes from the people I surround myself with, or better yet–perhaps it comes from understanding that God loves me just as I am. He understands every flaw and shines His light on every nook and cranny. Yet…He loves me anyway. He cares for me anyway. He blesses me anyway. He gives me great responsibility anyway.

Looking at myself through His eyes helps me to be okay with who I am. It can be messy and it can be a struggle but it is worth it. Living life never accepting yourself is a waste. Thank God I am no longer feeling wasteful. Thank God I am able to accept the unaccepted.

~SM