When the Stars Landed in My Eyes

A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes
I screamed aloud, as it tore through them, and now it’s left me blind

Last night, after I placed the cannula from my temporary oxygen machine in my nose, I laid back and placed my ear buds in my ears. It had been months since I’d enjoyed any kind of music because it seemed like every time I listened to it all I did was get pissed off or sad.

Tapping the touchscreen of my smart phone I selected Cosmic Love by Florence and The Machine. Letting the sound envelop me, I tried my best to slow my breathing, enjoy every nuance of every note, and feel every word wash over me. I needed to be taken under the waves and made clean, and I figured Flo singing about standing in the darkness listening to a heartbeat would push me through the abyss.

Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too,
So I stayed in the darkness with you,

At the utterance of these words, my body began to shudder. I wasn’t sure if it was from the steroids that I was tapering off from or the words that had finally hit me. Tears began to stream down my face and I wrapped my arms around my waist. I whispered into the air, ‘hold me, just hold me, I’ll be okay if you just hold me.’  I didn’t know who I was speaking to, but I didn’t want the experience to end.

Still shaking, I fingered my iPod to play Never Let Me Go. The tears continued, but with it came a sense of calm. Through the sounds of the oxygen machine, the fan, the music and my tears, I heard a crash. My old spirit was breaking free and I was on my way back to myself.

Finding the love of music again made me want to listen to more, but I forced myself to turn it off. I placed the phone beside my bed, rolled over and fell under the wave of sleep. I dreamed of Him, and fell even deeper into oblivion. I dreamed of the promise of him, and hoped that he was dreaming of me too.

Looking out from underneath,
Fractured moonlight on the sea
Reflections still look the same to me,
As before I went under.

And it’s peaceful in the deep,
Cause either way (Cathedral, where) you cannot breathe,
No need to pray, no need to speak
Now I am under, Oh.

And it’s breaking over me,
A thousand miles down (on)to the sea bed,
Found the place to rest my head.

Never let me go, never let me go.
Never let me go, never let me go
.

And the arms of the ocean are carrying me,
And all this devotion was rushing over (out of) me
,

And the crashes are heaven, for a sinner like me,
But the arms of the ocean deliver me.

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The Photograph

Friends-best friend-friend picture-freinds wallpaper-friendship (2)

“The most I can do for my friend is simply to be his friend. I have no wealth to bestow on him. If he knows that I am happy in loving him, he will want no other reward. Is not friendship divine in this?-Henry David Thoreau

I placed the photograph of the five of us in the picture frame. We looked fabulous! On it the sentiment reads:

Friends

Life is to be shared with our greatest friends

Who would have thought the photo I would add to it would be of the five us? My four best friends from high school. After 25 years, and a lifetime of changes, we were together again. To celebrate the first wedding for our friend A. We looked the same, but didn’t. We acted the same, but saner. We had become grown ups. Some of us parents. Some of us married. Well, A. was married. The rest of us had tried to maintain relationships, but most of us were single again.

It was the first time I’d been to a wedding reception without Roger Darling. It felt strange, but not. I felt freedom as I ran around the reception hall. Hugging everyone and chatting away. P. and I spoke inappropriately to each other and laughed about the fact that you could tell who the recovered alkies were during the wedding toast. Everyone else had champagne, we had sparkling cider colored purple.

T and I skittered around the kitchen wearing aprons. We talked non-stop as we sliced cakes and filled trays with delicious desserts for the guests. We did our best to keep the bride’s family out of the kitchen, so they could enjoy the evening. T and I had a blast, even when she cut her finger and was bleeding profusely all over the place. We patched her up and continued our kitchen duty. Who would have thought I’d be standing there with her? My T. The girl that called me Pookie Chow Chow when we were kids. Don’t ask me why, she just did.

Rhodes came all the way from West “By God” Virginia to photograph the festivities. We asked her to take the photo of us, P, A, L, T and me. Most of us had gone years without speaking. There were fights, misunderstandings, changes in personality and attitudes. There were hurt feelings too. I recall sending a Christmas card to one of my friends with pictures of my little son and daughter in it. It was returned to me unopened, stating that the address was unknown. It saddened me a little, but such is life. We move on. Grow. Change. Mature. Live. Break. Rebuild.

The frame that holds my treasured photo was meant to contain a picture from another time. My friend Linda and I never got to take that photo. A diagnosis of cancer and her swift retreat from my life made it impossible. She died not soon after, and I hid the frame in my closet. I figured I would get the chance to have another photo taken with the three remaining friends that were with me on the day I received the gift from Lin. But circumstances with all of them changed and our friendships scattered to the wind.

I’m of the belief that everything happens for a reason. Be it fate or God, or both. Linda gave me that frame to house a precious photo. Who knew it would be of the four friends I had in high school? They were my Breakfast Club. My Lloyd Dobler, from Say Anything. My Pretty in Pink. My Sixteen Candles. And they had all come home to my heart. Isn’t it funny, the ones you thought would always be with you fly away. And the ones you thought would never come back, do with such love you wonder how you ever lived a day without them.

The photo is my treasure and I look upon it every day. Life truly is to be shared with our greatest friends.

Journal Entry Monday-Straddling the Horizon

copyright-Tracy Rhodes

Copyright-Tracy Rhodes Photography

When I drove in to work this morning, I felt like I was straddling the horizon. The sunrise to the East, and the moon to the West. Stars settled on my shoulder and whisked pixie dust through my hair. I knew I was being reborn.

The last 30 days have been quite remarkable. Where do I even begin? I guess, I’ll begin at the beginning….

On September 26, I drove a completely packed UHaul to my new apartment. After I signed the lease and got the keys, I started lugging boxes. My friends arrived a couple of hours later and helped me drag the furniture up one flight of stairs. J bitched about having to drag the sofa bed up a flight. But with the help of my BFF’s teenage son, they got it moved with nary a broken fingernail between them. As a thank you, I took my moving crew out to dinner at a local Coney Island. The food was cheap and good. Our conversation lively and full of laughter. After the plates were cleared and the bill settled, I hugged my friends and headed home, alone.

Alone, that was what I wanted to be. I smiled at the prospect of it. The sense of it too. I’d never been alone my entire adult life, but I was anxious to begin my journey. After I arrived back at my place, I slipped a DVD into the player (Pretty in Pink) and started to unpack my treasures. Working tirelessly till about 1 am, I finally collapsed on my sofa bed and slept the sleep of the dead.

The next morning, I dragged my sleepy ass off the couch and drove to my local AT & T store. Seems my smart phone took a shit in the middle of the night so I had to get it replaced. Nick, my sales rep noticed my anxiety about the replacement fee of 250.00. He graciously waived it, set me up and shoved me out the door before 10 am when the cable/internet installer was to arrive at my apartment. Wonder of wonders, the cable guy showed up on time and I had cable and internet before noon. Thank God, because there is no way in hell I could live without Facebook or Word Press for more than 24 hours!

I won’t bore you with more details of settling in. Suffice is to say that it was pretty uneventful. A few leaks in the bathroom needed to be tended to by maintenance. My kitty, Cinders came to live with me. She’s a happy camper and good company. I hear from my children and ex-husband on a regular basis, and we’re all adjusting to the new ‘normal’.

Friends have wanted to come visit. I’m okay with it, but I enjoy my solitude. The quiet is welcoming and I let it envelope me. I read, write, shop, sleep, and buy my own flowers. I relish the times away, and revel in the time spent with myself. I’ve gotten the hang of budgeting my time and money. When my children call on me, I drop everything and go to them. It’s easier now to be a good mother without the rain cloud of unhappiness that used to follow me everywhere.

Roger Darling and I will always have a connection. We will be a family because we are parents to the two most incredible human beings I’ve ever known. Our Adam Boy and Meggie need us to be on the same team, even if we don’t live under the same roof. Our grown children may have suffered a setback or two with the newness of this life. But I think they’re getting the hang of it.

I’ll continue to broaden and straddle that new horizon, every damn day that I have the good fortune to wake up. To make heart connections, and make new friends. Who knows, maybe someday with God’s good grace a new man will enter my life. One that will love me with all my brokenness. He’ll place his hand on the shattered pieces, making me stronger than I’ve ever been. I’ll hold his hand, and we’ll walk that horizon together.

Until then, I’ll enjoy the solitariness. And live. Maybe I’ll even go to London. In the springtime. I bet it’s lovely that time of year. I have to research a book. A tragic romance. About a young writer that falls for a drug addicted poet…….

Fancy a Brew?

Thank you my dear friend The Reclining Gentleman for the tag. I love coffee. It is a necessary evil in my life. It works to keep me focused because of ADHD. If I didn’t drink it, I’d be even more crazy than I already am. 🙂

1) How many cups of coffee per day? At least three cups. Starbucks dark roast preferably.

2) What is your favourite caffeine delivery system? Coffee of course. I’ll drink Coke Zero though. Yum!

3) What was your best cup of coffee? My favorite coffee is Komodo Dragon dark roast from Starbucks. It is bitter and earthy. Add a little ground cinnamon and I’m in Heaven.

4) What was your worst cup of coffee? Oh hell, I don’t know. Probably the gas station we stopped at a few years ago when we were driving to Florida to go to Disney World. It looked like old bathwater and tasted like burnt bacon. Sure, I’d love to drink the bathwater of Ryan Gosling or Johnny Depp, but not in my coffee. GROSS!!!

5) What does your favourite mug say? LIVE, LAUGH, LOVE. What else would you expect from a fiery wench such as moi?

Live Laugh Love

At work, I use a mug that’s covered in flowers, because I’m such a dainty maiden. I need one that’s animal print though. I’m sure  it would go better with my goofy personality. Or maybe I can find one that has the F word repeated all over it. Roger Darling would love that I’m sure.

6) How do you take your coffee? Caramel syrup, real cream, and two Sweet and Low. My dear husband tells me I’m high maintenance. Even with my coffee. I do believe he is right.

7) When was your first cup? I was a latchkey kid, so probably when I was 8 or 9. I was always sneaky and doing things I shouldn’t. Hell, I started smoking when I was 13.

8) Have you ever gone on a coffee tea date? Yes, with Roger Darling of course. And a few of my girlfriends. Starbucks is a favorite place to hang out. It’s nice to sit and chat with a dark roast, Venti.

Now who will I bring into the clatch, hmmmmm? Carolyn, Sheri, Benjamin, CharlieZero1, Ajay and Seyi. Happy Monday to all of you. Now go out there and enjoy a cup. Then write, write, write!!!!!

A Typical Wedding on a Typical Day in Key West

RogandMeg

ChrisandMeg

I look up to see Meg’s smiling face. She’s standing next to her father. They are arm in arm. She’s beaming; radiant. The sun hits her hair and it appears that it has been set fire. Roger is smiling ear to ear. In the background I can hear Matthew playing guitar and singing Edelweiss. For just a moment, I’m thrust back in time. I see her as she used to be. Three years old, cuter than a bug’s ear, and struggling to get her hand out of her father’s grip. Tears form in the corners of my eyes. My throat closes as I struggle to hold  back tears. This is a happy day. Even with all the little stresses that have come with it.

I see her as our little Cindy Lou Who from Whoville. A girl with a tiny nose. It was so small, her little sunglasses would slide off of her face. She is so much like me, but she isn’t. She’s all woman. Brilliance, beauty, brains, and talent. I couldn’t be more proud of her. She and her father walk past me while Matt plays the song that bonded her to the first man in her life. As they pass me, I fall in line behind them. I look up at her fiance Chris. His eyes are brimming over with love. I’ve never seen anyone look at her like that. He truly does love her with everything he has. He’s a good man. First of all because he loves her. Secondly, because he loves her. Thirdly, because he loves her. That’s all we need to know. It’s all we’ve ever wanted.

I stand back and watch Roger give her away to Chris. He leaves Meg’s side and comes to stand next to me. He whispers, “Today is perfect. This is perfect.” He kisses me. I squeeze his hand, giggle ridiculously, and tell him, “I agree completely.” We hold hands during the ceremony. On a beach in Key West. Just like she wanted. I’m telling you, that girl always gets what she wants. The ceremony was perfect. The company was perfect. We had sand in our toes and the taste of the ocean on our lips. They exchange vows, smiles and rings. I reach for my momma’s hand and squeeze it. I finally knew how she felt the day I got married to Roger Darling. It was letting go, but it wasn’t. It was building a new family. A new life. For our Meg and Chris. For all of us.

2012 Blog of the Year, Er, How the Hell Did This Happen???

Blog of the Year Award 2 star jpeg

I try my best to throw myself into my writing on the days when I hurt. It seems my best work comes from those days when it rains in my heart.-Me

Thank you so, so much to Moonbeam McQueen and Cristi Moise for their nominations. Love, hugs and kisses to both of you. I thank you for your support. I fucking love you all so damn much!!!

It’s been almost a year since I started this silly blog of mine. It has evolved. I have too.  I’m not even sure who I am anymore. I like this new person I’ve become though. I do. I’m proud of the words that I write. The goofy and sometimes profound things I say. The music, the madness, the dirty stories, and the friends I’ve made. This is quite a community. I’m so pleased to be a part of it. I love to write. Everything. Everything. Everything. This is my calling.

I have been nominated for over 20 awards this year. Over 20! Five just last week. I need a trophy case! Growing up, I was the girl that was always picked last for sports and I never won anything. I was the weird girl. The drama girl. The musician. The loud girl that was looking for attention and someone to love me. I had huge boobs too. That’s about all I had going for me. Fortunately I married a wonderful man. Had great children. Made a good life. There was sadness and depression in this life too. Addiction.

That’s how all of this started. I was transforming; evolving. I was losing 150 lbs and re-discovering myself. As a woman. Not just a wife and mother. But a woman. I was learning that I was viable and vibrant. Beautiful. I shared my story and found that it was the story of so many others. We’re all going through our own lives of quiet desperation. I’m not trying to sound arrogant when I say I’m beautiful. I never thought I was. I still struggle with it. I totally get it when P!nk sings, Don’t Let Me Get Me. I’m prone to self-destruction. Madness even. Here, in this sphere though, I feel safe. Normal. It is my haven.

Everyday I fight a war against the mirror
Can’t take the person staring back at me

I’m a hazard to myself
Don’t let me get me
I’m my own worst enemy
It’s bad when you annoy yourself
So irritating
Don’t want to be my friend no more
I wanna be somebody else

The Rules:

  • Select the blogs you think deserve the ‘Blog of the Year 2012 Award’.
  • Write a post and tell about the blogs you have chosen and present them with their award.
  • Please include a link back to this page and include these rules (do not alter the rules or the badges).
  • Let the blogs you have chosen know that you have given them this award and share the rules with them.
  • Click on my Facebook page on the right hand side of my blog
  • As a winner of the award – please add a link back to the blog that presented you with the award – and then proudly display the award on your blog and sidebar … and start collecting stars…

The groovy thing about this award is you can give it to as many bloggers as you want. My list is long and probably doesn’t include everyone that is should. If I’ve forgotten you, I’m sorry. Also you can win this award up to six times, so pay it forward. And send it back to me if ya want. Wink, wink.

So here goes:

The Wanderer’s Thoughts: Because she writes beautiful poetry that melts my heart.

Boomie Bol: Because every word she writes is like music.

As Long as I’m Singing: Because he is my brother. He is. Well, I wish he was anyway.

Brainsnorts: Because he’s sarcastic and funny. Most of the time. I love every word he writes.

Tales of a Charm City Chick: Because she’s damn hilarious and beautiful too.

Christopher De Voss: Because he’s damn funny and gorgeous too.

Dean J. Baker: Because he was one of my first followers and his poetry makes me swoon.

You Know You’re Borderline When: Because she taught me that it was okay to be BPD.

Worldly Winds: Because I’m a sucker for beautiful poetry.

Breathtaking Portraits: Because I like pretty pictures of, everything.

Kyle Mew: Because there’s nothing like reading the lustful words of a dirty poet.

Susan Daniels Poetry: Because her poetry speaks to my soul.

Lead.Learn.Live.: Because David loves my potty mouth and thinks I rock. Oh and I think he rocks too.

Rincewind Erotixx: Because I love pin up style photography. And I think the female form is beautiful. Just beautiful.

Stories by Williams: Matt gave me one of my first award noms. Plus he’s a sci fi geek. And I just love me some sci fi.

Mind Retrofit 7:  Her poetry is cosmic and mystical. Stars, moons and clouds are some of my favorite things.

Oyia Brown: Because she writes everything well. And she reblogs me. I love it. It warms my heart.

jensinewall: I love her photos, observations and writing.

Cat Forsley: She is a beautiful poet. A songwriter too. I know that if we lived closer, we’d be fast friends.

The Change You Life Blog: Because Stu was one of my first followers and has turned into a dear friend.

Just a Thought: Because her poetry is sad and dark. And she loves P!nk, just like me.

A Thin Girl: I love Susannah’s tag line, never judge a girl by her weight. She’s funny, sad, sarcastic, and all kinds of other good things. She makes me long to live in NYC.

Paula Acton: Because she is brilliant and British. I love her writing. Plus she wears her hair in a Pixie, just like me.

The Reclining Gentleman: I just know he’s young, dashing and handsome. He makes me kinda tingly with his writing.

You Jivin’ Me Turkey: I followed this guy because he’s a quotes whore and so am I. I have found him to be so much more though. He’s a charmer and a sweet, sweet man. I long to share a cozy couch, 80’s movies and popcorn with him.

20 Days and Hanging with the Bachelorette

Phone call from Meggie last Sunday morning.

So, honey how do you feel?

Like I’ve been hit by a truck. My face looks like I’ve been hit by a truck too. But dammit my hair still looks good!

Ah the much beloved bachelorette party for my daughter. Damn did we have some fun. I took no photographs of the debauchery because, well, it’s nobody’s fucking business. I do have to say that I was glad to be part of the festivities. I helped the bridesmaids decorate for the party. No, we did not use condoms as balloons. We had a tropical theme since Meg’s getting married on a beach in Key West. We do have a little class. Except for the fact that the party goers drank 4 dollar bottles of wine and rum punch that looked like Tidy Bowl toilet cleaner. We do have a little class. I helped with the food too. We had to make sure the party goers had something in their stomachs to soak up the booze.

We had dinner first at Mongolian Barbecue. I love that place. It’s so damn loud there. We laughed at the grillers as they sang to the bride to be, Na Na Na Na, Hey Hey Hey, Goodbye. They made her wear a veil of tin foil and paper towel. One of the grillers hit on her. Told her he wished he’d met her before she got engaged. As she was walking back to the table she told M, “he doesn’t remember, but I met him a few years ago at a frat party.” Ah well, some men are just stupid players. So stupid they don’t remember someone that they hit on a few years back at a party.

By the end of dinner my ADHD was in high gear from the sights and sounds of the restaurant. The clanging of the griller’s metal cooking utensils on the circular grill. The noise of our silly conversations. The droning voices of the other diners. The music, the bright lights, all of it was dizzying. I told my friends and Meggie, “there’s no way in hell I could work here. I’d lose my ever loving mind!” Meggie and I shared a deep-fried Oreo. I think I gained four pounds on the spot. I looked at my girl next to me, told her, “thank you for letting me be a part of your last hurrah.” She said, “of course Mom. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I rode back to our home town with L. She and I have been besties for 30 years. She told me about her impending divorce. About wanting to find someone new. That it was so damn difficult. We laughed as we shared stories from the informal class reunion the night before. I told her, “I’m all grown up and when I stood in that bar last night, I felt like I did when I was 17. Like a square peg trying to fit into a round hole.” She reiterated that she felt the same way too. I said, “maybe that’s why I never went to a reunion before. Because if I really wanted to hang out with any of the fuckers I wouldn’t have waited 25 years to do so.” L just laughed at me and shook her head.

Back at one of the bridesmaid’s houses we settled in for a sex toy party. Meg and I were the comedy team. The dirty things she and I talk about make some people blush. We don’t care really. It’s like a dare for us. Let’s see what the other can say to get someone to laugh or raise an eyebrow. One of my friends stuck a vibrator on my back. I looked at her and said, “don’t do that, it makes me hawt!” She looked at me and said, “girl you’re crazy.” “Of course I am”, I replied, “It’s one of the reasons why you love me.” She just smiled at me and nodded her head yes.

I watched the girls slowly get plastered. I watched them laugh uproariously at our antics. At the stories we shared. I think I told them not to have sex on a beach because they’ll get sand in their vagina and it will hurt like a mother! I took in the sight of these girls that I’ve known since they were young. I looked at them and realized they are all grown up. They are young, viable, productive adults. Saturday they were drunk and funny as fuck. I was glad I was there. I’m damn glad that my daughter and I have the kind of relationship where she isn’t embarrassed of me. That we are friends, even though we are mother and daughter.

Believe me, the friends thing didn’t happen till she was out of the house. Even now I can switch back to Bitch Mom in a heartbeat. And she can switch back to Bitch Daughter just as quick. These last 20 days are going to fly by. Roger Darling and I need to pack so we can head to Florida and get on a ship. Meggie’s life will be forever changed on this trip and so will ours. For the good. Most assuredly for the good.

My Hometown Glory-A Reunion of Sorts

I’ve been walking in the same way as I did
Missing out the cracks in the pavement
And turning my heel and strutting my feet
“Is there anything I can do for you dear?
Is there anyone I could call?”
“No and thank you, please Madam.
I ain’t lost, just wandering”

This whole thing started because Danny and I said we were going to have a drink together the day after Thanksgiving. I haven’t seen the man in 25 years. I got the bright idea to create a Facebook event for it. I figured what the hell, there’d be 10-12 of us. And then it BLEW UP! I’ve had people message me that graduated in 1980 that want to come this event. We now have over 50 people attending. Dan’s Tavern has been well stocked with beer and Laurie and her husband had a banner made. It even has my web address on it!!

When I started writing I never knew where it would go. I never knew it would lead me home. To Saline. To my old friends. To my new friends. I never knew that most of my support would come from those I didn’t even know back in high school. I hated Saline. I couldn’t wait to get the fuck out. To find another life. Hard to believe that writing would bring me back home.

Round my hometown
Memories are fresh
Round my hometown
Ooh the people I’ve met
Are the wonders of my world

Most of us have not seen each other face to face in over 25 years. Some of us have never met! But we have created a loving community on Facebook. Folks that would NEVER have been friends in high school are friends on Facebook. We support each other. We love each other. And we bitch at each other. We find out news of those that we lost as far back as 25 years ago. And as early as weeks ago. We celebrate them tonight too. We celebrate that our Death Valley Days are over. That we are still here. But we also realize we are mortal. As we grow older, we are reminded of it every day. Tonight we raise a toast to those that have gone before us. To our Death Valley Days. To the loss of our innocence as teenagers and the coming together of an unlikely group of people. I’m so thankful for everyone of you!

We also want to raise a glass to our very own Axl Rose. Our RD. Happy Birthday my sweet friend. I’m so glad that you have found happiness. That your life is good. I remember your voice. The way you sang. Full of gravel and attitude. Funny how I haven’t heard that voice in so many years, but as I read your posts it rings in my ears. It’s so good to finally hear it again. Happy Birthday my dear Ronnie!

Enjoy the night and know that this will be an annual event. We will come together every year. Take over a bar and share our lives. To us, to life, and our old home town of Saline. CHEERS!

The Singing Butler

I live in a world of heartbreak… I just seem to be more creative when I’m in some kind of emotional distress.-Jack Vettriano

There Tracy and I stood in the gallery gazing at the original painting of The Singing Butler. We held hands. Because that made us feel closer. We smelled the salt in the air. We felt it on our skin, and in our hair. We could hear the sound of the surf in our ears. We saw the maid and the butler with the umbrellas, but we held none. We reveled in the rain. The sweet mist that covered our skin with the sea salt in the air. We saw the couple dancing, and their embrace. We couldn’t see her face, but we knew she was ravishing. For how could a man, a simple man in morning clothes want to dance with her on the beach, in the rain? His love for her must have been immeasurable.

So there Tracy and I stood. And felt what they felt. And knew the love that those two dancers knew. For we felt it ever day with the men that loved us. How we wished to be that ravishing, dark haired woman. But then, we already were.

Practical Magic or Practical Love, What Can We Do to Fill That Hole Inside of Us?

“Sometimes I feel like there’s a hole inside of me, an emptiness that at times seems to burn. I think if you lifted my heart to your ear, you could probably hear the ocean. The moon tonight, there’s a circle around it. Sign of trouble not far behind. I have this dream of being whole. Of not going to sleep each night, wanting. But still sometimes, when the wind is warm or the crickets sing… I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for. I just want someone to love me. I want to be seen. I don’t know. Maybe I had my happiness. I don’t want to believe it but, there is no man, Gilly. Only that moon.“-Practical Magic

It has been so long since I’ve seen this movie, but this quote moved me to tears this morning. I know I have love, but I still feel this void inside of me. Every day. Why? I have no idea. But I wish there was some way for me to fill it. Maybe that’s why I write. Who knows. Maybe that’s why I share with you the emptiness I feel in my soul. Today, I shared it with my friend, someone I haven’t seen in 30 years. But it felt normal to share it with her. I have no idea why.  I just did. As I talked to my friend, I’ll call her the Singing Siren. I was reminded that we all have this hole in us. We want to fill it. I asked her, why do we have this hole that needs to be filled?

I mean we love, we are loved, we have children, and we lead full lives. For some reason, we want more. We women, who have made it to this stage in our lives crave more. We are NOT our mothers. We are not content to sit back and grow old. I am sure  it’s why I write. I still burn. I may be almost at middle age but I still burn. I write because I am not dead yet. I will not die. And when I do, you will remember me. My words, my passion, my life written on these pages will make you remember me. It will also make you remember the stories that I’ve told and the people that I’ve made you meet. I told Rory today that I will not go silently into that good night. I will go out kicking and screaming. Fighting ever damn step of the way.

I told the Singing Siren’s friend, that we all have that hole. No matter how fulfilled we are, we all have it in us. It could be from a lost love, a great what if, or a life wasted. We all have that hole we are trying to fill. I told her to find a passion, and fill it up. But who am I? I’m just a girl with a big mouth that likes to talk a lot. What advice I give really has no bearing on anyone that I come in contact with.

My friend, the Raven Haired Angel, gave a sad status update today. It was: I used to be so positive about life and encouraged others. My life was awesome. I have a wonderful husband who puts up with the crazy and psycotic depending which day it is. I have great friends, wonderful children, great employers, and cuddle pups. So why is it I can still encourage others while I’m drowning in myself? I am so blessed and so thankful, and yet feel stupid and unworthy and incapable of anything! I awake crying for no reason, I hurt from head to toe, I stumble,I forget , I’m hot, I’m cold, and I can’t open a damn jar anymore! If this is midlife it sucks!!!!!

I told the Raven Haired Angel that a good friend gave me the subject to write about today. All from a simple quote from a sweet, sad movie called, Practical Magic. I told her she was beautiful, that she’s still viable. That she is loved and lovely. That the crazy and the psychotic we feel is normal. We’re normal. It’s okay to feel the way we feel. It makes us yearn to be more, and to do more. It means that we are not about to be complacent. I told her do NOT become so. I told her to find a passion and pursue it. I signed off telling her that I had much love to give her and if at anytime she needed to be told how normal and necessary she was, she could call me.

I’m still trying to find a way to fill that hole in me. I feel I do every day I write. Every post I make. It fills my hole and makes me whole. Makes me better. Makes my friends, readers, and followers better. It makes me realize we are not alone. We are not. And here, here we find a way to become better. To find that Practical Magic, and that Practical Love.