Call me...maybe?!?!

Call Me Maybe blared on the I Pad from the back seat of my filthy expedition, for the twenty or thirtieth time, as we journeyed back over pass, back to life-away from our twenty-four hour trek to the lake, the woods, the fresh air and friends who know our idiosyncrasies.  

I giggled as I pondered my current life and listened to my kids sing every lyric, wondering if they have any clue what they are singing about.

I laughed myself because returning to my house is an emotional process., which truly isn't funny-but aren't most of us happy to return to our sanctuaries?  So much sh** has gone down behind my green front door... last summer I was going to paint it orange.  I was under this delusion that the direction of my life would alter if the door I walked through each time I entered the wooden confines of my memories was painted a different color.  After contemplating this minor change one day, I shrugged and haven't looked at the paint can since.

Sometimes walking through this front door reminds me of all that has been here and all that has gone... sometimes the air feels heavy in my lungs and sometimes I merely glance around as the weight of the walls bear down.  

Call Me, Maybe?  maybe...  I probably won't answer.  If you are closely acquainted with me or my cell phone, you know that phone calls are scarce and texts are verbose.  When my phone rings my pulse quickens and I contemplate quickly tossing either my cookies or my phone out the closest window.  If I take the time to dial your number, answer.  It took a lot for me to call.....  It's possible a professional should address that.

Really though, the song caused a much deeper moment in the twenty-fourth repeat than I anticipated.

November 17th it will be 4 years since Chris earned his wings and I was thrust into widowhood.

A month ago was the one year mark of living as a single mom.....again, after my marriage self-destructed.

This was a year of self discovery, some self celebration as well as a healthy dose of self loathing.  Though I'm fiercely independent and find moments of solitude necessary in filling my own cup, I'm also missing the phone calls intended for me.  You know the ones, the daily check ins, the quick I loves yous.  Don't judge, just sayin'.  At the same time I've discovered that dating is not for the faint of heart but that's a story and a lesson in self to divulge another day.  I love fiercely, only let go with great difficulty and hold on to those who have held a place in my heart because they are few... is that a character flaw?

Ok...what's the point?  Right now, I'm not exactly sure what the point of this post or this moment is.

Sometimes it's about holding on, watching the horizon, slipping my hand into hope, loosening my grasp on things that need to breathe, and putting my sails up-hoping to catch the wind.  Sometimes it's about watching the storm approaching, hearing the wind coming high up in the trees and finding something to hold me at center.

Contemplating 38 years on this Earth, a new career, growing kids, singlehood, and the overbearing load of responsibility, I'm attempting to come up for air and take in the peace, the moments of joy, and release the sadness.

Where I used to write so freely, I now find the words stuck between my thoughts and my fingers in this place where emotions wash out to sea.