relationships

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simply a complicated thought

what is the bottom line, really?
is there one?
do you really stop at a certain point?
flip yourself around and return where you started?

hoping for something new, fresh?

to begin again?

maybe, maybe not.

you may stop at the bottom line.
you may turn around.
you may look back.
and you may see familiarity.

yet,

it just might be that your mindset is different.

does it feel better? worse? or the same?

and what do you do if what you feel is not what you want?

does it matter? does it make a difference?

should you even bother with the bottom line at all?

sigh…

 

 

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How tall is your age?

Several years ago, during the first week of school, I was going over the classroom rules. The students listened with awe. So interested in what lay ahead. And, as they developed a sense of comfort, tons of questions began flowing. All kinds of questions.

“Will we have homework?”

“Where will our field trip be this year?”

“Do you remember my brother? He was in your class.”

Etc. Etc. Etc.

And so…

After all questions had been exhausted, I held up the chapter book I would be reading to them, daily, and explained that throughout the year I would continue to read different stories, one after another.

I was ready to begin. Jump right in, and start reading.

Just as I turned to the first page of the book, a sweet-faced boy suddenly shot his arm up into the air, wriggling his hand to and fro, excitedly. I figured he must have remembered something important.

And there it was, the ultimate question. The one every kid seems to want to know. Every year.

“How old are you?” he inquired.

“51,” I answered. Honestly.

“I didn’t know you were that tall!” he exclaimed.

tall2

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straight from the genes

He was sleeping. Soundly.

She sat on the edge of his newly purchased queen-sized bed. Watched him. Smiled.

He must have sensed her there, in his bedroom, because he slowly peeled his eyes open. Looked at her. Smiled.

“Morning,” she said quietly.

He mumbled something. Something incoherent. Then he closed his eyes. Shut.

She didn’t move. From the edge of his definitely-slept-in bed. Watched him. Smiled.

She saw his feet rub together. Nonstop. Slowly. In a way that soothed him.

Just like her.

She never noticed. Before now. That he had inherited her habit. Her habit that provides comfort.

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The Other Dumbo

Vocabulary Words: Snarky: having a snotty attitude License: a type of ID card used as proof to legally drive Dumbo: a person who seems to have no common sense, nor a reason for owning a driver’s license Rules: a set of expectations 

I’m having a snarky attitude this afternoon.

driver

I was driving home, as cool as can be, maneuvering through traffic carefully, skillfully, and very thoughtfully. So when I began exiting onto an offramp, slowly turning the wheel, veering to the right, a car in front of me suddenly stopped. Sits as still as can be. As if that’s what the driver, namely Dumbo, should do. Yet, all I can wonder is Where the heck did Dumbo receive a driver’s license? At Dumbo School? Is that where people who don’t know the rules of the road go, the one’s like Dumbo that stop when there is no stop sign, but stop anyway, unsure what to do?

Honk honk I tap. Not aggressively. Not passively. Just mediocre. Which causes Dumbo to wiggle-wobble slowly, oh so slowly into the main drag. Onto the adjacent lane. The one meant to give Dumbo space. To ease in. To avoid a collision. But boy oh boy I was losing my patience. And my will to slow down. I just couldn’t seem to slow my thoughts, my actions. Because, really, anyone in possession of a license to drive must know (don’t they?) that driving is basic. Simple. And full of common sense.

Anyway, I left the scene, bypassed Dumbo, leaving him or her behind. Carefully, skillfully, and very thoughtfully. 

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blogging writes

me blogging

Way back. Years ago. I had heard the term blogging, yet didn’t quite understand what that meant. Not until I saw the movie about the girl who blogs for a year, cooking everything Julia Childs, and documenting it, allowing readers to be part of her potential goal being met. “Interesting concept,” I thought. Writing down, whatever, and allowing readers to take a peek into your world. The idea intrigued me, although I wasn’t sure how time worthy it would be for others to explore my day-to-day life. Just a regular person doing regular things.

And then Rudy was offered the job in Arkansas.

So, I signed up. It took me a moment to commit. I gingerly hovered my fingertip above the submit button, while thoughts swirled in my head. Mostly about throwing my life into the cyber winds. Could I really put our world out there. “Well, why not,” I told myself. And so I pressed. Ever so gently, barely registering the new page, create your first post.

Thus, blogging was born.

I thought about what it meant to be living life apart from Rudy. About how we were still in a 100% committed relationship. That it was up to me to hold the fort down here in California, to make sure the kids continued to behave without their dad around. And how all the while Rudy solely maintained another household, and did what he needed to do to make it all work. As I reflect back, I remember in the very beginning I honestly did not know what to write to interest readers about our ordinary daily routines. No one would want to know that I had a cup of coffee in the AM and that news was my main entertainment, while Rudy did the same thing across the country. Then we’d both drive off to work, separately. Later, we would return to separate homes, eat separate meals, watch different TV shows. And so on, and so on. Sounded mundane to me.

Until.

One summer, while visiting Rudy, I looked at my surroundings. I was sitting on a couch haphazardly pushed against a wall, in a room that could be described as a bachelor’s pad. I sat there staring at the keys on my iPad until I felt my thoughts. Those thoughts became words on a page, and those words turned into stories. Stories about how I felt in regards to our situation, him living there and me living here. And that’s when I realized that the interest of my stories lay in me, and if I’m lucky with readers who wanted to know more. I simply wanted to document what was happening, as a sort of journal. As a way to gauge my emotions.

And in part, as a way to be heard. Fully.

You see, I am, and will always be, someone who is more of a listener than a talker. Someone might have asked how it was going with Rudy living so far away. Verbally, I would water the whole situation down, just get it out as efficiently as possible. Then, like a focused listener, I would ask questions, casually deflecting attention away from me and onto my companion.

So, not only has blogging allowed me to detail my life consistently, very specifically, and without interruptions, it’s also where I do most of my talking. Which is a great thing because those who are interested in reading about, or trying to understand who I am and how I think get to eavesdrop with permission. And more importantly, our children will forever have a place to read my thoughts, and share them with generations to come. There will be no guessing as to what I was feeling, thinking, and hoping.

These are my stories.

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If I had my life to do over again…

Financial freedom comes to mind.

To just be.

To live freely,
without constraints.

If I went back, I would begin at the beginning,

When I got my first job, at age 16.

Because, then,
in the long run,
in the far distant future,

As in NOW!

me and rud

Rudy and I would be traveling together,
to crazy-cool destinations.
To experience the world, in the simplest way.

We’d run wild,

carefree,

happily.

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poolside

pool

A house with a pool is a dream, I suppose for many. When looking for a new home, in general, lookie-loos consider a pool in the backyard a lap of luxury. I’d agree, but honestly, for Rudy and I, we just wanted a house to live in, to provide stability for our children. Just a simple house. Something cozy. That’s it. A glistening pool wasn’t our focus when looking at places to settle into.

So, to our surprise, the house where we immediately grabbed hold of each others hand, a secret sign that we had agreed on beforehand, a way to express our interest without saying a word, came to fruition only a few feet within the entryway of the ranch-style home. Both of us just knew without even having toured the place that this house was the one. Our feelings inter-mingled, tingled through our fingertips. And as we stepped into the living room, and the owner pulled back the curtains, there in front of us was a built-in pool, shining brightly through the large windows, set smack-dab in the middle of the backyard. A bonus. Something not looked for, yet there it was. Refreshing luxury to take a lap in.

Our kids were so excited about having a pool in their yard. They’d swim after school, on weekends, with friends, without friends, late at night, early in the day, when they should have been napping, or could have been doing homework. In other words, the pool was their life. Until it wasn’t. One day, after observing them slouching on the couch, on a warm summer afternoon, talking about how boring life is, I made the most obvious statement. “Go swimming.” And that’s when reality hit. “Nah,” the kids replied. So there the pool would sit, day after day, without playmates. So, in a sense, the idea of a pool is awesome. The reality of it is “Whatever.”

One day, the pool guy began the process of draining the water so that he could replace the burnt-out light. The unexpected result? The kids and I discovered a new fascination. An empty pool is pretty cool. And not only for us, but for our two cats as well. As the water level slowly went down, Cassandra curiously stepped down onto the first step, considering if she should take a sip of the chlorinated liquid. When the water was nearly gone, we decided to take a stroll into the depths of the plaster-covered cement. Amazing! Really. We sat in the pool, just feeling its vibe, the huge expanse of it.

pool light

Later that evening, after the light was replaced, and the water began to fill again, I turned on said light, and we sat there, for a second time, inside the pool, amazed by the beauty of it all. The large hole in the ground, the old retro-looking walls, looking super bright, with the illumination of the newly installed light fixture, was worthy of our time. We talked, simply bonding. And then the light blinked off. Automatically.

The following morning, I went out to check the progress of the water level. Higher than the night before, but still low. I crawled into the pool again, this time with Skyler, who seemed to be as in awe as I was. Pools are awesome. Fun. Refreshing. Entertaining. And so on. Yet, now I know, that when the pool is empty, those things simply double in pleasure.

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feel the feelings

meThumbsUp

i know you.
you can do it.

you can be calm.
not stress.
listen.
with an open mind.

drop the anger.

you.
yes, you.
will appreciate it.
feel better.
lighter.
happier.
and more connected.
to everyone.
everyone that is important to you.

everything.
yes, everything.
will look brighter.
better.
and more worthy.

so.

do it.
i know you can.

live simply.
love hard.
and smile.

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The BUG

 denise:bugMy first car was a bright yellow Volkswagen Bug. During that time, my young 11 year old niece, Denise, hung out with me, a lot. I give her the credit for us spending time together because she was the one who would call me.

“Hi, Aunt Daphne. Is is okay if I come over to hang out?”

Well, of course it was! She was always a joy to have around. As time went by, as Denise grew older and her life had become busier and busier, I saw her less and less. But, one time, quite a few years ago, she stopped by to visit, just to say “Hey,”and to share a dream she had had, reminding her of the past.

“I had a dream. I dreamt that I bought you a yellow bug, just like the one you used to have. I dropped it off in front of your place and drove away in another car, excited for you to find it.” She went on to explain that there is an actual car for sale that resembles my VW, near her home. Denise wished she could buy me the car.

In my mind, I was thinking Oh, yea, how fun would that be! Out loud, though, I said “I’ll take it,” so casually you’d think I wasn’t serious.

rudy:deniseI was driving my yellow bug when I met Rudy for the first time, and it was the car I drove when Denise, sitting in the passenger seat, met her future uncle. The three of us took a ride to a nearby park, to feed the ducks in an over-sized pond. We sat together near the water’s edge, just talking and laughing. Little did she know that she played a very important role within my and Rudy’s relationship. Not only did I get to observe him interacting with a soon-to-be preteen – a most important observation, for sure, but Denise was also my No way!-No how!-Not now!-I’m not doing IT! way to maintain abstinence.

On our very first date, I drove Rudy and I, plus Denise, my nephew and two more kids to Magic Mountain in the Bug. What a day! Rudy and I locked lips more times than I can remember and my niece would disrupt the moment by “ooooooooo”-ing or screaming “Gross!” She’d laugh afterwards because I’m pretty sure she really did like Rudy. Liked having him around that day.

 As my relationship with Rudy solidified so, too, did Denise’s feelings for him. She has always thought of him as an extremely awesome person. She even sought him out on her wedding day, saved a dance for him, and proudly introduced him as Uncle Rudy. The fact that a dream flowed through her was a reminder of times past. A fun time in a bright yellow Volkswagen Bug, and being introduced to someone having a positive impact on her life.

That yellow bug was part of my early history, when I hung out with Denise, and my developing relationship with Rudy. So should Denise’s dream ever come true, I’d say, “Drop that memory off in front of my place, anytime!”

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white elephant

She’s in love with him.
And he’s in love with her.
Though neither of them know it.
Know that the person they love.
Loves them too.

The thing is.
That neither he nor she.
Wants the other to know.
That each has fallen deeply.
Heavily.
In love.

Neither wants to scare the other away.
So she keeps quiet.
And so does he.

The big white elephant stands so tall.

whiteelephant

Right between them.

Encroaching on the closeness they could feel.
If they’d just say the words.
To each other.
The three simple words.
That mean so much.

One day. She blurts out unexpectedly. “I love you!”
As they stood in the middle of a crowd.
A large crowd of people.

“I love you, too!” he tells her.
“I have loved you forever and ever.”

Tears spring from their eyes.
As he hugs her.
Tightly.

And the white elephant vanishes.
Into thin air.
No longer needed.
In the space between the two lovers.