Knowing when to quit may be my greatest victory.
Remember I said this.
His incessant, threenager need to argue played right into my master plan *mwuahahahahaha*
Enjoy. *bows deeply*
Have you had one of those conversations you never saw coming from someone you’ve known, but suddenly find out is willing to introduce themselves to you on another level? A conversation that tears down walls and opens up doors?
I had that conversation tonight.
It was if I was looking through a key hole and suddenly everything aligned, illuminated and gave me a desperately needed glimmer of hope.
Good people exist.
They’re tired and skittish, but what a brutiful sight when a spark sets off a blaze of bravery to share their souls once more.
I was at a punk/metal bar tonight because they were hosting a chick book club’s PRIDE drag show fundraiser.
Stop and read that again.
Punks. Metalheads. Nerds. LGBT. Black. White.
Let me add: I watched a young man pray with his now sister before they took the stage TOGETHER. An 80-something Grandma got on stage with the chick lits and danced to En Vogue’s ‘Free Your Mind’.
I really took it in. It was love.
It was really fuckin rad and beautiful.
Since Mom was in the hospital, we’ve been spending a much greater amount and quality of time together. We’ve both been talking about all these very vivid memories and dreams that keep coming to mind. We have been trying to piece together memories and timelines. This is also coinciding with me decluttering … well, my whole life. Below is an example of one of many astounding connections we have come across. This joint time and effort has provided the greatest insight into who my Mom is and how she arrived at herself in the present, as I’m doing the same work myself. It’s beautiful and I am so grateful for it.
I’m so in love with my life right now.
All of it.
The good, the bad and the ugly. No matter what I’ve done or where I’ve been, it has got me here and despite the struggles, looking back through it all is quite a beautiful sight..
Sometimes, when I’m recovering medically, being alone let’s my mind wonder to dark corners. I get really hard on myself.
My Dad called tonight and he wasn’t having any of it.
As I cried to him about all the things that keep a middle-aged, single mother up at night, all the things I put away from everyone else, but Dad, he stopped me in my tracks. He told me that HE. ADMIRED. ME. That I was was one of the strongest women he knew because I have survived multiple wounds and sufferings beyond what most people would be crushed beneath singularly.
I said, “Dad, I just feel like I’m always trying to do the right thing and I keep on coming up short.”
He replied, “You have an adopted special-needs son who would likely be dead if not for you and who you treat just like your own biological children, because he is to you and anyone else who knows you. You advocated for him through everything. You might not have much but you always get what your kids need. You raised some incredibly resilient kiddos. You have life long friends because you’re a wonderful friend. That’s incredibly rare, Stephie. C’mon, give yourself some credit.”
Just as I was going to bed, I started thinking that I had not accomplished as many things as I had wanted to today, when my dog, Zeke, walked into my room. I just looked down at him and smiled, realizing that even on my worst days, I’ve rescued five animals. Things may not be the way we want, but yet, still we have what we need; and no matter what ANYONE else may think or say…my kids still say “I love you, Mommy” and that’s all the things.
The smallest act of kindness outweighs the grandest intentions.
I had an AMAZING birthday. All I wanted was to sit on the beach and watch the sunset.
My kids, Bean, his two boys and I met up at the beach. We had a picnic for dinner and then played in the surf and sand for hours, tossing around a frisbee and football.