Wednesdays have become my days to write, to let out some steam, to get some things off my chest. It also happens to be the day when the husband is at work and the kid is at school and I have some time just for me. I love my family and my friends and my pets but I also love just sitting here with this computer or my journal with a cup of coffee in some random corner of a coffee shop and just letting my soul flow. Again, I have no clear direction of where I am going, just things rattling around my head that will eventually find their way out.
Last week I went and spent most of the day with a friend, this beautiful young lady who I couldn't be more honored to call friend, and it was nice. I don't think I hang out with people in my life outside of work enough. I know I don't come out of my shell a lot other then on paper. The scars run deep, I suppose, from all those years ago but I am adult enough to understand that it is up to me to move forward. There are parts of me that love being around people still, that love that companionship and laughter. Still, those very lonesome parts of me remain.
My point? I was sitting with her, this girl at the beginning of her life, the beginning of figuring everything out, putting the pieces together of who she is, and i couldn't help but to laugh at how far I have come. I remember being in my early twenties and listening to people in their late twenties tell me how I didn't know anything and I was still a baby and how angry they would make me! After all, at 23 I had a kid and was divorced so but I digress... So that memory played in my head and I wanted so much to not be like the ones before me. I work with so many people who are younger than me. I know I've become the old lady server but I know where my destination is. Waiting tables is just a means. So, I look at these wonderful group of people and I know age means very little. At the end of the day, I adore them. I can be the old lady :) They remind me of how grateful I am to be in my thirties. I didn't give her advice about all the things that would come and how she should handle them. I just listened and she listened and we laughed and had fun. She is a kindred spirit and we all need more of those in our lives.
I am putting together my next great thing, a book of poetry, and honestly some of this stuff is just making me laugh. Not because it's bad, mind you, but because some of it is just very entertaining. I have written so many poems, so many stories, so many words that sometimes I forget what I have put down. I am one of those writers that doesn't really plan anything out. This, for instance, I don't necessarily know what I'm going to say today other then the lose thoughts that are rolling around my head. When I write, I kind of just start and see where I end up. I think that's why I started keeping a journal as young as I did. Sometimes I honestly don't know how I'm feeling until I write that very last sentence. Then, the skies open up and all is clear to me.
I know I haven't written much lately. I'm getting my priorities discombobulated again and I need a reset. My life goal is not to become the world's greatest server, believe me. My work ethic does not allow me to do less then my best, both a blessing and a curse. We got two new kittens recently and they have taken a lot of my attention to be honest but I know part of me is in a slump, too. Sometimes I get wrapped in everything else other then what I want to be doing, what I need to be doing. And if I am going to be completely honest (which I generally am at least between lines), I am just plain exhausted. There is no cure for that other then rest. I can be a real asshole to myself sometimes and not understand my limits. There are things that we constantly work on and pushing myself is definitely one of those constant struggles I have.
But I have realized how far I have come while going back through a lot of my old poetry. Like? Like I am definitely not as angry as I used to be. I am definitely not as sad as I used to be. I am definitely not as melodramatic as I used to be. And you know? I'm definitely not as hard as I used to be. I think all of these things are incredible. I read the words and I can remember exactly where I was, exactly how I felt, exactly who I was and it's a beautiful thing to step back into those moments... though I am grateful that I've found more rainbows and lost a lot of the clouds along the way. I do truly believe that the written word is a beautiful gift. I don't know how good I am. To me, it's just me putting down what lives in my soul. If people get it, they get it. If they hate it, they hate it. It is all relative. All I know is that it invokes something in me, it inspires something inside of me to keep writing down these feelings that I have.
So I know when I start to get angry, when I start to feel like the world is closing in on me, when the simple act of making a phone call is too much, I know that I have gone too long without this. The stuff that I have been working on is a lot of poems about being alone. Some come off as sad but they are not. I remember what it felt like to have no one in the world, how empty it was and how satisfying it was, too. All I needed was a pen and a piece of paper. I would look forward to those moments when there was no one around me, when I had the chance to disappear into my burrow and let it all go. For as sad as some of those words that my hand wrote were, there was a strength in them, too. I do believe that being alone all those years made me a better person. That being said, I am by no means complaining or throwing shade on any of the wonderful people that are in my life right now. I couldn't be more grateful for the fact that love surrounds me, for the brilliant people in my life that I can call friends, for the sweet husband that makes my world amazing every day, for that sweet saucy child of mine that breaks my heart with each day she grows more, for the family I know I don't talk to or show how much I love them enough. I also understand there is a respect that I need to show the girl in me that loves to get lost in some corner of a coffee shop. She will always be the core of who I've always been.
Today I officially married my husband, a man I married almost five years ago. Turns out the paperwork was never sent in after the ceremony for one reason or another (not pointing fingers but I definitely have my thoughts). To me, I married that man the moment I started walking down that aisle in my beautiful white dress and I have been married to him since. Here's a little fun fact about North Carolina and marriage licenses. When you go purchase a license, they tell you that you have sixty days to file it. After that it is null and void. Guess what, guys? It's actually good for five years. So, my husband and I, knowing that we didn't send it in the sixty day window went down to the courthouse to make it right. We were completely willing to purchase a new license, to go upstairs and say our vows again. We wanted to give the government money to make us right. Here's the thing. They wouldn't let us because the license that was supposedly null and void (because they told us so 4 years ago) was actually still valid. It's funny now but not so funny at the time. And, as it turns out, we saved some time and some money because of the silly rule. On the positive, we have been retroactively legitimately married since our wedding. I wonder then why if the license was still valid and they backdated our marriage, why the fuss?
I didn't start this blog today to talk about that though. I am truly excited to legally call this man that I love so my husband and have no one contest it. Morbidly, he can now save or end my life if an accident were to occur. I know, dark, but my father's death still so fresh on my soul, it gives me some comfort to know that he will take care of me when I can't do it myself. It's funny in a strange way that all of this happened because of my father. He's been gone for six months now. Dealing with his estate has been tedious and frustrating and sad and I wish that I hadn't been the lucky winner of this but it is what it is. This morning, after I was so happy to be legally married, I sat in the office of the bank. Of course, in my father's fashion, what was supposed to be simple was not. So I cried and I cried and I cried in front of this woman who I wanted to punch because I was so frustrated but I knew she was only doing her job. I wanted my father to suddenly appear so I could strangle him. Even in this man's death, he has left a mess... but there hasn't been a day since he passed that I haven't missed him.
I was talking to my older brother the other day. We were just talking about the estate stuff and remembering our father together. He told me a story about a old man who walks around the park near where he lives with a white dog and tells my brother's wife and baby girl to watch out for falling fruit. My brother said he reminds him of our father. I know we all have these different views of the after life but I believe that people don't necessarily go away completely. I think, in some form, they are with us forever. I don't think that old man is my father, of course not. I do think, however, that it our father's spirit in his own way letting us know that he's still watching over us. The other day I was at work and I was talking to these two lovely ladies that come in pretty regularly. We were talking about my book that I recently published and how excited they were for me. One of the ladies started singing a song that I've only ever heard one person sing to me. It was the song my father used to sing to me when I was little and I knew in that moment he was there with me. I had been having a rough day. Though it instantly made me want to cry, it was incredibly comforting at the same time. Just to hear those words brought back a memory of him smiling and dancing around like a silly person and me giggling, blushing at this song that I thought he made up just for me.