I'll have a Pickel AND my Motorcycle

Floods.

I am hit with floods of what has come to pass. 

Gone. Gone is he from my view. My life. Gone from these shores. 

To a destination of undetermined mystery.

To where he is and I shall one day be, too.

Gone along to a land of peanuts and big bands and loads of sand.

Never far away, you're here to stay. In my veins, my soul,

and every cheese I ever knew.

I'll be looking at the moon.....but I'll be seeing you.

Always you.

Always will I be walking your way.

From this May, until my dying day.

Command would you, nothing less.

All I can say, Grandpa, is that I'm doing my best.

Enough. Always told me I was more than enough.

Sentimental, as you were tough.

With might you challenged us all to rise to any occasion.

To you I dedicate this Old Style, Roberto.

To you I sing this next song. 

On and on, we will get along, cause you taught us all to be so strong.

To a Pickel.

To a Motorcycle.

To eloquent belligerence and many more re-tellings of all that you were.

Are to me. To us. 

Forever.

xxooo

R.I.P. R.E.P. 

1925-2012

30 Days Without Facebook

I did it to know I could. I did it to challenge dependencies. I did it because I did it. 

I did all this instead of FBing away my life:

Got reeeeeeeeeally pumped when a guest got arrested for mooning protestors. He was instantly the hero of my day.

Decided that whiskey and scotch are the only acceptable lavations until I am mended. I am told this basically makes me an 80 year old man.

Faced down some demons. Swallowed sadness. Cried deeply.

Cursed the long road.

Realized I am really fucking intense. Like seriously. I am surprisingly super ok with it.

Caught up with some long lost souls. I am truly grateful to know so many incredible people. After analyzing my close circle, I realized they all possess the following traits: intelligent, affirming, talented, not accepting of status quo, compassionate, thoughtful, deep, emotional, loyal, moral…the type of persons described as “good people.” They say you attract people similar to you. Clearly I AM thee shit.

Acknowledged book hording tendencies. Added this month: Women Who Run With the Wolves (Estes), Journey to Machu Picchu (Cumes & Valencia), Attached: The New Science of Adult Attachment and How it Can Help you Find-and Keep-Love (Levine & Heller).

Weight lifted in the garden center.

Worked at least 50 hours every week. Sure it was at two part-time jobs, but still, I feel more like an adult every day. Cause adults work too much and tell themselves it’s a brilliant idea. Muuuuuuney!

Actual radio exchange for price check (at the place where you save BIG money):

“Is it hard or soft?”

“Hard….it’s hard.”

“About how big is it?”

 “8 inches.”

They were talking about an ice pack. This is verbatim. So good.

Decided I must one day have a home that is the kind of place where people want to gather.

Gargled coconut oil. Concocted lime juice potions. Spent outrageous amounts on throat health teas. Decided to be ok with the possibility of getting tonsils removed….arrrrgh. It will probably happen. I will definitely whine.

Found myself an extra 100 bucks without paying an accountant 1 penny. Suck it, IRS!

Kissed my refund AND a decent chunk of credit card debt BUH byyyyyye.

Overindulged. Boy bands, you slay me….and One Direction, I do mean you. It’s probably because you’re British.

Delivered some smiles.

Set aside funds for an overdue aspiration. Researched artists.

Scrubbed my lips. Lip scrub is real and I never thought I’d think it was necessary.

Mandated I will only tan my legs in the future if wearing fishnets.

Mapped out birthday plans. Erotic ones.

Planned future Canadian adventures. My passport WILL get another stamp prior to expiration.

Bid a fond farewell to an icon, hero, and inspiration.

This is what prompted “did you study Speech in school?” and “you should save those note cards, that was a great speech”:

I find “Naval Commander” to be a limited term when describing Grandpa. He wasn’t a mere Naval Commander. He was a commander of attention…regaling us with stories of places far, far away and of memories long, long past. Commanding a room with wit, charm, and intelligence alone. A commander of life. The picture perfect display of the phase “I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.” He lived every day. With zest. With meaning. With unfaltering humor.

A commander of our hearts. You need not venture far to find someone else with a sidesplitting story or inspirational tale, compliments of the Commander.

A purveyor of dreams. Your most loyal fan. Your favorite drinking buddy. The first person with whom you want to share your good news…your fears…your hopes. He was ready with a resolution, a solution, and in all probability, a mathematical formula.

I’ve heard beauty attracts beauty and looking around, I know it to be true. Grandpa was a pure and understated kind of beauty. And when I say he attracted beauty I mean like seriously beautiful people, please….look at me. Always the flatterer, he never failed to make you feel like the most important person in the room. Full of more class, wisdom, and kindness than most ever achieve, he sets an example of what to be.

Consequently, he also taught us how to string together some of the most effective and awe inspiring lines of nonsensical profanity you’ve ever had the fortune of encountering in your life, with classics such as “Goofy God Damn Silly Son-of-a-Bitch” and the ever effective “BULLSHIT”. In fact, anyone who has ever found themselves a passenger in a vehicle driven by Bob  knows the ONLY proper response to blowing past a DO NOT ENTER sign is  “Do not enter…? BULLshit!!!”

So, you see….he wasn’t JUST a commander, he was many a thing. Teacher. Lover. Class act. Lingustical extraordinaire and one helluva guy. Here, there, and everywhere.

My grandfather. My inspiration. Forever.

I love you, Grandpa. Thank you for being you.

Realized I will never tire of hearing how much I am just like my Mom.

Decided that May will be the month of no meat. Bring it on.

P.S. I challenge you to challenge yourself. This small brush with accomplishment and dedication is wonderful.

At 10:59, but not 11

Capable am I. Of bravery. Of courage. Of admitting flaw while acknowledging strength.
The strength to know I am heavy. So heavy in your arms. This love and these concrete feet are my own.

MY own. To have and to hold. Forever and ever.
Because life will flow on and on, with or without me AND I choose life.

I've begun a breakdown....of everything that ever scared me, challenged me, and taught me. About ME.
About what it means to know peace. To know trust in myself. 

To know that I will forever be marked by all that is you. YOU. Beautiful, you.
To know that lying by your side is such a heavenly way to lie.

---

SESSION 1

Recognition: I am invisible here. I am infuriated here. Ready to scream all manner of hurt and confusion. Here. Here. For years and years upon years. Avoiding confrontation is futile. This is my life. My maker. My undertaking. It's not my home, it's their home and I'm welcome no more. 

Takes me and breaks me as it wakes me. 

Wakes me.

wakes. me.

But not until after 11. 

Cause that's my new rule. 

The Month of _ _ _

It happened today.

Acknowledgement. 

That of loss. Of how the time is never the time you wish it to be. 

Steals the air from my lungs.

Squares me toe-to-toe with all these demons. 

This long road demands all I could hope to give. 

It is neither punishment, nor joy. Not peace or chaos. 

I am real.

This is even more real.

Will it ever be as it always has been. 

Hopeful, yet not expectant. Surprise. So much is ever a surprise. 

The lesson is in the leaving, they'd say. They are they are me. 

With me always are you. Shall you ever be. Be. BE. 

Here. 

There. 

Everywhere. 

Every day.

Every way.

Every May.

Be as it may. On to May.

...

THIS Memory.

This day I...

cut myself some slack.
felt honored by your presence.
awoke in peace.
hummed a tune.
prepared to work to the bone.
devised new cavities.
was my best friend.
set off an alarm.
provided comedic relief. 
took it one step at a time.
hoped for a refund.
walked this way.

lived.

Ships

“….I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging, and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself and if you find someone to love the YOU you love….well, that’s just fabulous.”

I am not Carrie Bradshaw. 

I will one day love myself as much as I love you.

You Mighta Been Right About that Wheelchair, Creep.

The brain is runRUNrunning away. From you. From me. To a mouse in a house. Some cowgirls like me go out like that: RUNning. And still here I am...just as I was then. A year or so ago. A year or more so. The more or the less I know not. The happy or sad I do not see. Drowning as I float on, ok.
    ok. OK. ok? Niente. Nunca. For it was not the heart that failed. Carries on and on it does, just ever so more faded and jaded. If failure needs a culprit, look no further. This world and all that I dream could be so. Blame is the name of this game and every player loses holdings for the bold things and old things.
It saves me as it betrays me.

A week away and the only comfort is not to be found. Not in the shower. Not in that cupcake. Not even in the deepest of deep heartwarming and breaking exchanges.

It will start and end as it always will be....with me. Trapped in this liberation, I have no choice save move. At a sprint.