Santa grows up

When I was smaller, Christmas was the time of year that I looked forward to the most. It was so magical. I remember going through the weeks before thinking that they are taking 'forever' to get to the end goal - CHRISTMAS! I couldn't wait for Christmas eve dinner to be with my cousins, laugh and play. Then when all was said and done, I would feel I 'had' to go to sleep as soon as I could but before I do - the cookies must be left out for santa with the note, of course. Can't forget the note. 'Dear Santa, Please enjoy these cookies and milk....'

Of course, being young, I absolutely couldn't wait for Christmas morning. I would run down the stairs and somehow still be convinced that Santa Claus himself dropped all these gifts off for myself and my siblings. It didn't help that all the tags were 'from Santa'! Regardless - it was here! Christmas day! Tearing through the presents was amazing. What was more amazing is that the 'big' gifts were addressed to 'Jessica, Brian and Kristen' (at times - my older sister would be involved in the gift) and we opened them together, stared in awe at them together and played with them - together. Ahh...those were the days.

Soon, it was time to head off to my Aunt's home for dinner and the next best thing was choosing something new to wear and one, small gift to bring with us. I imagine this is so we wouldn't be at the house, pacing and nagging to go home to play with all the new stuff! Whatever it was, the method kept us satisfied and happy. It worked.

Time to go home? Yes! Those were the greatest words I could hear! Back to my NEW stuff...

Then it happened. One year, as I was making my way through the sea of gifts, I found it. Hidden between two neatly wrapped gifts and almost under the couch, there was a cookie. A cookie set out especially for Santa himself! I picked up the cookie and said, ' I knew it' . I knew he wasn't real. Perhaps the cookie could have been dropped by the big man himself but I just knew. Something inside my little belly just knew. Still, I kept it to myself. I wanted to remain in the magical, fantasy that I have surrounded around Christmas until now.

Over the years, as I have grown, so has Santa. I am now one of his 'helpers' as I have been for quite sometime but I keep him real for my nieces and nephews. I watch them as they make their way through the overload of toys and clothes purchased by all of us helpers but sent to them from Santa.

Now I sit back and smile as I relive the magic of Christmas through their bright eyes and piercing (happy) squeals.

I still smile when I am handed a gift 'from Santa'.

I come from a large family and though I would like to say that we are a super tight group - we aren't. However, last night we managed to unite for a purpose. A very important purpose.

For some time now, we have been standing on the side lines watching one of my brothers fall deeper and deeper into alcoholism. For a time, I think most of us (myself for sure) just tried not to believe that he has a problem. I would often make excuses for him or just ignore him when he did have a beer in hand. Over the past year, or so, it's gotten worse. His living conditions worsened to the point of toxic, he would show up with black eyes and try to convince us that he punched himself in his sleep and slowly he has stopped showing up at family functions that he would normally attend. In that time, he has also allowed people into his life that have been nothing but detrimental to his well being. The sad part is that he seemed so desperate, at times, for a connection with someone that he permitted the negative messages to infiltrate his mind. I just hope there comes a day when he realizes that those are wrong and there is just so much better in the world for him.

Regardless - as I said, my family came together last night for an intervention. We decided that it is time to step in because if we don't he would simply continue down this path of destruction and we might lose him all together. We did the intervention. We did it out of concern, anger, frustration, care and most importantly - fear. Fear that if we didn't step in he would be done. Something that we, as a family, couldn't live with. Close or not - he is still a family member and therefore a top priority.

After much talk and tears - he agreed and now, today, my brother is off to detox. A detox that I hope will clear his body of all the terrible crap that resides in there now. A detox that, when its done, will make him feel outstanding and realize that he has so much going for him. Simply, a detox that will bring him from the pit he is currently in to a world of views of a possible future.

From there, he is off to rehab to begin the journey of treatment for his disease.

Again - as a family - we let him know that we will be with him every step of the way.

I just hope we can be 'close' enough to hold true to that.

I miss you.

I know that I shouldn't.

Our lives are moving in a new direction.

Separate from each other.

I can't help it, though.

I miss you, terribly.

I miss us.

It's for the best. We both know.

The flowers will forever be in my mind.

The hugs - forever around me.

The kisses - always tenderly on my skin.

I hope you know the impact you have had on my life.

One that can never be undone.

One that is more than appreciated.

There was a meaning for this.

For us, when we happened.

There was a reason.

I believe that.

I believe in you.

I wanted to believe in us but life doesn't always take that course.

The one we plan at least.

I hope for good things.

For you.

For me.

For us.

Forever.

There is a man who I see periodically on my drive into work. When I see him, he is always doing the same thing - walking up and down his block dressed in a winter coat, knit hat on his head, hood over that and his hands behind his back. All he seems to be doing is thinking.

When I see him, it gets me thinking. I wonder what he has going through his head that keeps him looking so stern. I also wonder why he is always wearing that coat. Does it help him to think better? Is it his version of a binky? Is he really that cold all year long? Perhaps the voices in his head are telling him to do so? As usual, I never come up with an answer but I do think about stopping the car one of these days and just asking him. Just tapping him on the shoulder and starting with 'Hi'. It's a chance that I would take. A chance that maybe he is a crazy man who would take a look at me, scream and start running away yelling something wacky, a crazy man who might just tell me that he is talking to his little friend on his shoulder or perhaps, he is just a simple old man who has lived an incredible life and would like nothing more than to share the tales of his days with someone.

Although - the fact that he is wearing just that same winter coat get-up all year long tends to make me lean a bit more toward crazy and that might be why I have yet to stop the car.

I am intrigued, though.

Amazment

It's crazy but I still am amazed by things in my life. Perhaps it's the artist in me. The creative person who is constantly looking and observing. Watching the world and the people in it. I can't say that I take everything that I see home with me but I know it's there and at times, things still amaze me.

These days, though, it hasn't been so much what I have been observing but my thoughts and where they take me. Earlier, it hit me. I was thinking about my friends who recently promised themselves to each other and then my situation popped back into my head. At that moment, I was amazed. How is it that at the same time, two people are in the happiest place of their lives and wearing nothing but smiles everyday whereas two other people are deciding that the cards weren't in their favor and are going their separate ways. I just got to thinking that at any given moment, most anything that can happen in the world is happening. Birth/Death, Marriage/Divorce, Love/Hate, Talking/Arguing, Eating/Starving, Weight Gain/Weight Loss/ Sleep/Insomnia and Peace/War. There seems to be a pattern. At least I see one. Happiness/Sadness is constant.

Where someone is smiling - someone else is frowning.

Constantly.

This weekend I drove upstate to watch friends vow to love and be true to one another for the rest of their lives. As I sat there, I couldn't help but think about the day that I stood in just the same position, promising the same to my husband. I tried to be there, in the moment. I am more than happy for them but I just couldn't take my mind off of the current state of things in my life.I felt as if tears would begin to flow but they never came. Perhaps because I am bitter or maybe my tears have dried up.

How does it happen? How do you stand in front of all your friends and family, look each other in the eyes, vow to be with that person with your whole self for the rest of your life and then one day - it's just done. Does that mean it wasn't real? Does that mean that the words you spoke on that day meant nothing? How could that be? Those words shouldn't be said with a disclaimer. They should be true. Real. Honest. To be that, I suppose, one must be honest with themselves.

I think that's where we, well I (because I can only speak for myself), went wrong. I did love him. I still do with my whole heart. I don't think that I could ever stop but I wasn't being true to me. I don't think I knew it at the time, either. All I knew is that I was getting married to this wonderful man and my life was about to 'begin'.

Little did I know.

Costumes

When I am in my car driving, I always let my mind take in the surroundings as I pass by them. I do my best thinking while driving. As best I can, of course, as I need to keep my eye on the road. Regardless, during my drive this morning, I couldn't help but notice all of the halloween decorations people have displayed outside their homes.

The first thought I had was 'Damn! Is it really almost halloween?"

The follow up thought I had brought me right back to when I was a kid and all the costumes I had worn. My costumes varied from a 50's girl (for about 3 years) to the Pillsbury Dough Boy for halloween and then there were the fairy-like costumes for my ballet recitals and ice skating shows. After the events, the costumes always remained with us. In a large plastic bag we had kept in the closet. At times, my sister and I would bring the bag out of the darkness, tear it open and search for our favorite outfit to wear. Mine was always this shear, white soft tutu. I believe I wore it with a gold, sequined leotard. It was my favorite thing and no matter what else was stuffed into our bag of dress up memories, I couldn't depart from this one. Determined that I get it every time we opened the bag to play 'dress up'.

Those were such good times and have made such good memories. I often think about being back in that moment when my only concern was making sure I pulled just that combination from the bag. I cannot go back but I know that I have the memories so I am guaranteed a smile when I think about them.

I suppose it could be true, time heals.

The more that time comes into play, the more I think to myself that I can do this. I can make my life happen and I can make it happen for me. I am in no way where I would like to be at the moment but each day that passes, I start to see a little bit more that things will be ok. Do I wish things were different? Of course I do. Don't we all for one reason or another?

I am 'happy' today. What tomorrow brings has yet to be seen..

Here they come again

I never thought there could be so many

Falling

Down my cheeks

Landing wherever

On my lap

In my hand

Rarely in a tissue because they have become so unpredictable

and tissues never seem to be at attention

It is said that pain can only make you stronger but

It rips you apart in the process

Leaving you for dead, practically.

How do you become stronger from that?

How do you peel yourself off the ground and start again?

What doesn't kill you, right? 

Right?

I never actually believed it when I learned that it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile? It's true. 

So now, I wonder, why it is after a good set of tears, one could feel so exhausted? Why does it take so much energy to expel such sadness? It's not a good exhausted, either. It's more of a 'take me to bed, throw the covers over me and let me sleep this off exhausted'. Of course, there is also the exhaustion that comes after excitement but that one always leaves (me at least) wanting more. 

I suppose it's simple. There are types of exhaustion. 

I, my friend, am exhausted. Bed time, under the covers, let me sleep it off - exhausted.

I often find myself thinking about people and why people do what they do. Now, I know that I have been told that I read into things too much but there is just something in me that wants to know 'why'. Quite possibly, most times that I 'read into things' there really is nothing there to find but, yet, I really feel in my heart that there is something else underneath the spoken words at times. Ironically, if and when there is, I never really find it out. Frustrating.

Regardless - today is another day filled with thoughts. What is going on? How did I get here? What is going to happen? Where can I find a hug? and so on...

I feel as though these thoughts just dance around in my head and tease me with the answers that never seem to come when I want them. Hell, sometimes, they don't come at all. Perhaps, I should try to be a little less demanding of the thoughts and learn to just notice them and wait for the answer to present itself....

Problem: I am impatient. 

"If emotions were candy, I would have the worst toothache ever."

I don't know where to put them. I don't know how to handle them except to keep moving. Keep moving - that is all anyone tells me and really, it is all I tell myself these days. Still, though, as you keep moving you can't ignore the fact that the emotions are there and they can get in the way. How does one work through them? Yeah, there are good days and then there are the bad days when you just want to hit something (at least I do). I guess you just take them as they come. Is that right? There really is no 'place' for them.

Just take them as they come and keep moving.

Who are you?

Where did you go?

I don't know this.

I don't know you.

I wonder how this could happen.

I wonder how the pain could run so deep. 

I loved you. 

I loved the person I knew. 

I don't know you.

I don't know this.

Children are incredible. Sometimes, I think that I have that thought simply because I don't have any of my own. Maybe true, maybe not. Regardless - I visited with two of my four nieces yesterday for a bit and I walked into the older of the two doing her version of karaoke. For one of the rare times these days - I smiled. It wasn't just a smile to force the cover up of the thoughts in my head but a real smile. For a moment, the thoughts were gone as I watched her try with her whole little self to make sure she got all the words she knew right. I was so proud of her. When she completed her version, I had to cheer her on and with that she begged mommie for another song to sing. 

I stayed for the remainder of the performance.