I would love to give you a post of the meaning of life and some beautiful rambling prose of the oceans wild, instead I have been dealing with home ownership crap. Which no matter how you write it will never sound beautiful.
I know I am luckier than some to own my home and in such a spectacular setting, that being said, it is hard work to keep this sucker up and trying to hold its own against the elements. We are losing. Though after this weekend, we have made up some ground.
This was a weekend/summer home. If there were problems, people came and fixed them, I just wrote the check. That has changed. I could write the check, there are just no funds to cover it. Plus, since I now live here full time, I want to learn some of this stuff. Though not ever the gutters, AGAIN. Seriously, this is a disgusting job and I really felt quite faint throughout the ordeal. Also, I got all wet. And cold. And covered with goo that I DON'T even want to know its origins. It ended up with a little bit of the gutters that I can't reach, even with a ladder and now the weeds that are flourishing there, have been taunting me all day. ALL DAY I SAY! And for some small weeds they can really talk smack. I tried putting the hose on the super powerful stream and was promptly rewarded with a face full of goo but the weeds are standing tall.
I moved on.
Moved on to washing the deck. This deck is very slippery when wet. I have floated across it many a time in my flip-flops, hoping that I won't take a header over the edge before I gain some sort of traction. I bought the 30 second cleaner at the hardware store, that I went to totally forgetting I still had a face full of goo from the gutters. I know that the guys in my town can hardly wait to start dating a chick that leaves her home with wet moss on her face. So the 30 second cleaner, cleaned just like it promised. What it forgot to say was that your deck will become more slippery than anything ever seen when applied. Good news, the railing stopped my free fall. Deck cleaned.
Today I spent the morning applying the stain. I bought a tool that made it easier, supposedly. Of course being such a genius, I first stained my feet, my shoes, my pants, and a good portion of the lawn before getting the hang of the on and off switch. Tonight it is drying and looks ok.
None of these things are amazing events. They won't make the paper or the news, but tonight drinking my latte and staring out the window at the deck, I am proud. I did this. I saw. I conquered. Sure the gutters can say they kicked my ass but they would be wrong. I am strong and powerful and those weeds are GOING DOWN.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Early afternoon buffet
So here at the coast we are yet again having some sort of fish run. Earlier in the summer we had herring and anchovies. Now it is something larger and equally as gross as the early fish. The birds love this and that makes me happy. They leave a trillion disgusting fish skeletons with the heads still attached EVERYWHERE, this makes me not happy.
Now you might say to yourself "why does this have anything to do with you, birds need to eat too, you selfish horrible hater of nature?"
The reason would be that since I own the bird brain of dogs (cute, the way I threw in bird there! just keepin' ya on your toes) Olive will eat the remains, free of charge, happy to do it.
Not just one, or two, or twenty, or 100 but every single one she finds. I've yet to see her not eat one. Again no need to explain that fish bones are not good for dogs. I'm all over that page. Explaining it to Olive, a whole different ball game.
Yesterday I thought it was a fluke. She saw, she scarfed, she waited until she got home to puke, she is kind that way.
Today, same thing, only now she is on to me and while she can't remember we have a dining room wall and runs head first into it every morning on the way to breakfast, she can remember that if you get to close to me I will put the leash back on and that will close down the early afternoon buffet. So she dances and prances and wags her tail all with a horrible fish skeleton dangling from her mouth. Luckily I have a heavy constitution, even so it is truly one of the most disturbing sights you will see.
These are remains that not even CROWS will eat and I thought they ate everything. Yet, there is my dog chowing down and hoping to find some dipping sauce to go along with the meal.
We cut our walk short. We will not be walking on the beach until whatever is vacationing here is gone. Soon I hope.
Of course, walking home a gull flew overhead and dropped a skeleton in front of the worlds dumbest dog. I think I may have a dislocated shoulder from her lunging for the dessert that plopped right from the sky. Now she sits in the front yard, scanning the heavens, in the hope that a small evening snack will appear.
Now you might say to yourself "why does this have anything to do with you, birds need to eat too, you selfish horrible hater of nature?"
The reason would be that since I own the bird brain of dogs (cute, the way I threw in bird there! just keepin' ya on your toes) Olive will eat the remains, free of charge, happy to do it.
Not just one, or two, or twenty, or 100 but every single one she finds. I've yet to see her not eat one. Again no need to explain that fish bones are not good for dogs. I'm all over that page. Explaining it to Olive, a whole different ball game.
Yesterday I thought it was a fluke. She saw, she scarfed, she waited until she got home to puke, she is kind that way.
Today, same thing, only now she is on to me and while she can't remember we have a dining room wall and runs head first into it every morning on the way to breakfast, she can remember that if you get to close to me I will put the leash back on and that will close down the early afternoon buffet. So she dances and prances and wags her tail all with a horrible fish skeleton dangling from her mouth. Luckily I have a heavy constitution, even so it is truly one of the most disturbing sights you will see.
These are remains that not even CROWS will eat and I thought they ate everything. Yet, there is my dog chowing down and hoping to find some dipping sauce to go along with the meal.
We cut our walk short. We will not be walking on the beach until whatever is vacationing here is gone. Soon I hope.
Of course, walking home a gull flew overhead and dropped a skeleton in front of the worlds dumbest dog. I think I may have a dislocated shoulder from her lunging for the dessert that plopped right from the sky. Now she sits in the front yard, scanning the heavens, in the hope that a small evening snack will appear.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
I'll hold the lamp
So today it is a craft project reveal.
I have this light in my dining room. I bought it a few years ago and it is not every one's cup of tea but I like it, only it is a little plain.
I thought of painting it but since I paint everything these days and I was seriously missing my decoupage medium, I chose to decoupage it.
I decided to use tissue paper. I want to thank Starbucks for the lovely tissue paper. In this economy, you are lucky to even get a nice bag, so I was pleasantly surprised when I bought a cup and they wrapped it in lovely paper. Being a pack rat, I put it away for a future project. Today I used it. The tissue paper came in a light white with brown words and a light brown with white words. I used one color on each hand.
Working with tissue paper is different than other paper. The same reason that makes it wonderful to use, is the same reason that makes it a pain in the ass to use, it is fragile. I don't use it for projects where a smooth surface is required, since it hardly ever lays flat, but in this case, hands, the wrinkly the better.
I ripped up the tissue paper. I wanted rough edges and different size pieces. Then I went to town. First layer the decoupage medium on and lay the paper down. Add more medium on top. Pat the paper down, this will work better than brushing which has a tendency to tear the paper. Even if that happens, who cares, it will look great when you are done. I take a smaller brush, that is dry, and I use that to poke the paper into the crevices. I use the end of the brush to roll out any glue bubbles and to make sure the edges are sealed nicely. You don't have to do this, what ever floats your boat. Using decoupage is a wonderful medium, there is absolutely no right or wrong way. It is whatever you like.
I used some black tissue paper to make it seem like a light base that she is holding and because these days I am all about the tats, I gave the other hand a tattoo, that says live with intention.
I need a different light bulb in the base, one that seems more like a candle which I ordered from a company in Portland today.
I like it, though if I had to do it over again, I think I would make both hands the same brown paper. I like the finish on that paper more than the white, but not enough to redo it right now. Also I may do some painting on the fingernails and add some rings and things, not really sure yet. I have that whole less is more thing going on in my head and I can't decide if it will hang around or not.
Not everyone will like the fact that I have hands protruding from the wall and that is A-OK, for me it works. So look around your house and see if you can redo something into a statement all about your tastes.
I leave you with a photo of Herbie and Olive sleeping. I think Herbie must have some sort of tumor since he never lets Olive sleep next to him. Right after I took the photo, she touched his paw and that was the end of the peaceful kingdom. It was beautiful while it lasted.
I have this light in my dining room. I bought it a few years ago and it is not every one's cup of tea but I like it, only it is a little plain.
I thought of painting it but since I paint everything these days and I was seriously missing my decoupage medium, I chose to decoupage it.I decided to use tissue paper. I want to thank Starbucks for the lovely tissue paper. In this economy, you are lucky to even get a nice bag, so I was pleasantly surprised when I bought a cup and they wrapped it in lovely paper. Being a pack rat, I put it away for a future project. Today I used it. The tissue paper came in a light white with brown words and a light brown with white words. I used one color on each hand.
Working with tissue paper is different than other paper. The same reason that makes it wonderful to use, is the same reason that makes it a pain in the ass to use, it is fragile. I don't use it for projects where a smooth surface is required, since it hardly ever lays flat, but in this case, hands, the wrinkly the better.
I ripped up the tissue paper. I wanted rough edges and different size pieces. Then I went to town. First layer the decoupage medium on and lay the paper down. Add more medium on top. Pat the paper down, this will work better than brushing which has a tendency to tear the paper. Even if that happens, who cares, it will look great when you are done. I take a smaller brush, that is dry, and I use that to poke the paper into the crevices. I use the end of the brush to roll out any glue bubbles and to make sure the edges are sealed nicely. You don't have to do this, what ever floats your boat. Using decoupage is a wonderful medium, there is absolutely no right or wrong way. It is whatever you like.
I used some black tissue paper to make it seem like a light base that she is holding and because these days I am all about the tats, I gave the other hand a tattoo, that says live with intention.
I need a different light bulb in the base, one that seems more like a candle which I ordered from a company in Portland today.
I like it, though if I had to do it over again, I think I would make both hands the same brown paper. I like the finish on that paper more than the white, but not enough to redo it right now. Also I may do some painting on the fingernails and add some rings and things, not really sure yet. I have that whole less is more thing going on in my head and I can't decide if it will hang around or not.Not everyone will like the fact that I have hands protruding from the wall and that is A-OK, for me it works. So look around your house and see if you can redo something into a statement all about your tastes.
I leave you with a photo of Herbie and Olive sleeping. I think Herbie must have some sort of tumor since he never lets Olive sleep next to him. Right after I took the photo, she touched his paw and that was the end of the peaceful kingdom. It was beautiful while it lasted.
A billion degrees
So what does everyone do when it is one billion degrees and the first day of Fall? Decorate their fireplace mantle? Why, you do it too? that is what I did today.
It is hot here. 92 to be exact. Now this might not be hot where you live, but by the coast it is pretty darn warm. It smells like seaweed and crabs. There is no breeze and we actually have a layer of smog, which will make for a nice sunset later but right now looks a little gross.
So after watering the outside plants, I looked around for a project that just requires time and no cash, since I don't got any of one and a whole bunch of the other. I have been looking for a job but it is slow going, so for the time being I am trying to keep busy and remain positive.
On to the fireplace. I love fireplaces and would happily have one in every room of my home. The one in the living room is really nice. I switched it over from wood to gas a few years ago since I had some issues with birds flying down the chimney and residing on the bottom of the fireplace. I had a chimney top put on, still down they came. Finally, I just switched it over and have been thrilled with it since.
This fireplace has a large mantel with POWER right in the middle of it. The best thing ever. I wish all fireplace mantels would come with power, it makes the holidays so much simpler.
Now I know the whole thing about "Less being More" and "Simple is better" and "decorating with 3's or 5's instead of 2's." I know all of these things and I don't follow one of them. Less is never more for me. I try and dream of a minimalist room but it happens to not be in my dna. I like stuff. I would like less stuff but still I like a lot of stuff.
Here is the before:
And here is the after:
Some things remained the same since I have no where else to put them that they will be safe. The red mannequin came from the Revlon counter in the San Francisco Nordstrom. A few years ago they sold off some store room stuff from the early years and I was lucky enough to get this and a Revlon mirror, which I use in my bathroom over the sink. The little lamp is made of celluloid and spins when it is turned on, there are four different bathing suit beauties. The giant stork is also celluloid and I like him.
Those are the stock items, they don't change. The little green cabinet houses part of the frog collection, it could move, I just happen to like it there. So today I added the bird house with a goat on the front porch, who knows why, I just walk to a different drummer. Also books, because they are my true love. I made the boo banner and the white pumpkin for Halloween. Instead of a garland hanging in front of the fireplace, I hung vintage sand shovels.
Under my cloche are three vintage weebles, Fred, Wilma, and Pebbles Flintstones. I may start to collect little weebles, since they wobble but they don't fall down. I haven't quite made up my mind yet, but the Flintstones are here to stay. Yabba Dabba Do!
I put up the pitcher and the plate of my vintage dog china. Since the move I haven't been able to locate the cup and I hope I packed it. I rounded out the rest of the mantle with a set of polar bears, another light, and a bunch of candles.
I like it. I know it is still crowded and not really balanced and yadda yadda yadda but it is my mantle so it stays. At least until I unpack another box and find yet another thing I JUST CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT.
P.S. - The heat has fried my brain! I didn't take a picture of the weebles, anyway here they are in all their little wobbly glory. Enjoy!
It is hot here. 92 to be exact. Now this might not be hot where you live, but by the coast it is pretty darn warm. It smells like seaweed and crabs. There is no breeze and we actually have a layer of smog, which will make for a nice sunset later but right now looks a little gross.
So after watering the outside plants, I looked around for a project that just requires time and no cash, since I don't got any of one and a whole bunch of the other. I have been looking for a job but it is slow going, so for the time being I am trying to keep busy and remain positive.
On to the fireplace. I love fireplaces and would happily have one in every room of my home. The one in the living room is really nice. I switched it over from wood to gas a few years ago since I had some issues with birds flying down the chimney and residing on the bottom of the fireplace. I had a chimney top put on, still down they came. Finally, I just switched it over and have been thrilled with it since.
This fireplace has a large mantel with POWER right in the middle of it. The best thing ever. I wish all fireplace mantels would come with power, it makes the holidays so much simpler.
Now I know the whole thing about "Less being More" and "Simple is better" and "decorating with 3's or 5's instead of 2's." I know all of these things and I don't follow one of them. Less is never more for me. I try and dream of a minimalist room but it happens to not be in my dna. I like stuff. I would like less stuff but still I like a lot of stuff.
Here is the before:
And here is the after:
Some things remained the same since I have no where else to put them that they will be safe. The red mannequin came from the Revlon counter in the San Francisco Nordstrom. A few years ago they sold off some store room stuff from the early years and I was lucky enough to get this and a Revlon mirror, which I use in my bathroom over the sink. The little lamp is made of celluloid and spins when it is turned on, there are four different bathing suit beauties. The giant stork is also celluloid and I like him.
Those are the stock items, they don't change. The little green cabinet houses part of the frog collection, it could move, I just happen to like it there. So today I added the bird house with a goat on the front porch, who knows why, I just walk to a different drummer. Also books, because they are my true love. I made the boo banner and the white pumpkin for Halloween. Instead of a garland hanging in front of the fireplace, I hung vintage sand shovels.
Under my cloche are three vintage weebles, Fred, Wilma, and Pebbles Flintstones. I may start to collect little weebles, since they wobble but they don't fall down. I haven't quite made up my mind yet, but the Flintstones are here to stay. Yabba Dabba Do!
I put up the pitcher and the plate of my vintage dog china. Since the move I haven't been able to locate the cup and I hope I packed it. I rounded out the rest of the mantle with a set of polar bears, another light, and a bunch of candles.
I like it. I know it is still crowded and not really balanced and yadda yadda yadda but it is my mantle so it stays. At least until I unpack another box and find yet another thing I JUST CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT.
P.S. - The heat has fried my brain! I didn't take a picture of the weebles, anyway here they are in all their little wobbly glory. Enjoy!
Monday, September 21, 2009
Creativity
Here we are all adjusting to living without a school schedule. I have started to try and get up at the normal time. Do my normal things. I'm not quite there yet but I have made a good start.
Today was the first day I went back to crafting. I have no crafting talent anymore. I don't know what has happened. I guess it fell out of the moving truck on the way here, or maybe I didn't pack it at all.
I sat and looked at my supplies, all in a big mess. I pulled out my projects that I had started for Halloween, they were horrible. I now craft in the basement. It is bigger than my last space but it is not filling me up with creativity.
I'm hoping that this is all temporary. After all I have gone through some major changes all at one time, at least that is what I am telling myself.
Could it be that talent evaporates? You have a finite amount and once it is gone, Good by! Can it be that you just feel overloaded and tired? so creativity just takes a back seat? or in my case, no seat at all. It missed the bus altogether.
I hope not. Crafting is what I am good at. Not just good, great. I will be heartbroken if it is gone.
So I guess I will watch tv, read a book, walk on the beach and maybe, just maybe, when I least expect it, Creativity will tap me on the shoulder and want to walk with me for a while.
Today was the first day I went back to crafting. I have no crafting talent anymore. I don't know what has happened. I guess it fell out of the moving truck on the way here, or maybe I didn't pack it at all.
I sat and looked at my supplies, all in a big mess. I pulled out my projects that I had started for Halloween, they were horrible. I now craft in the basement. It is bigger than my last space but it is not filling me up with creativity.
I'm hoping that this is all temporary. After all I have gone through some major changes all at one time, at least that is what I am telling myself.
Could it be that talent evaporates? You have a finite amount and once it is gone, Good by! Can it be that you just feel overloaded and tired? so creativity just takes a back seat? or in my case, no seat at all. It missed the bus altogether.
I hope not. Crafting is what I am good at. Not just good, great. I will be heartbroken if it is gone.
So I guess I will watch tv, read a book, walk on the beach and maybe, just maybe, when I least expect it, Creativity will tap me on the shoulder and want to walk with me for a while.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Twins
I am back from my whirlwind trip to Chicago. Fast and Furious. It was all good. Chicago is one expensive city.
The kid is all moved into his dorm. He resides on the fourth floor, with no elevator I might add, so carrying that mini-fridge was very hard on the cab driver we hired. It was also hard on the helper dude who carried up the 44 lb suitcase that I was in charge off. I carried up some bottled water and that was HARD, I also had my purse, so I was really working it.
Dropping off your college kids, is quite the experience. As far as I could figure it went something like, the moms crying and carrying in Rubbermaid clear containers marked with cookies and beautiful bedding, the dads hardly slowing the car down and trying to get the kids to just leap out.
The girls are SO WAY AHEAD of the boys it isn't even funny. The boys bring a pen, a mini-fridge and pants. The girls, they bring the entire pottery barn catalog as well as a small terrace that comes complete with flowers, a chaise lounge and a water feature. The boys have two small boxes and the girls need twelve camels to carry their items. I want a girl!
We headed to Target to buy the multitude of weird items that a dorm room needs. A clock, a light, clear plastic containers, hangers, something called a shower caddy, and flip-flops you can wear in the shower. All of our items are beige, black or white. The girls, get turquoise, pink, purple, yellow, magenta, mint green, light blue, the entire pastel color wheel is theirs.
I tackled a Target employee and got the last mini fridge in the entire town. Yeah me. It is black. Not yeah me. I bought black hangers, white containers. I did sneak in a lime green little table because I am such a rebel.
We bought our items. We paid for our items. We loaded our items in the cart. I turned around to get the receipt from the cashier. Someone stole my cart. Yep, my cart. RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE TARGET STORE. At first your mind goes blank, GONE, the entire cart, THE HANGERS. Someone seriously just stole HANGERS. AND A SHOWER CADDY. This is one desperate thief.
The cashier asks me "Did I take it out to the car?" "The car!" I shout "I have been standing in front of you the ENTIRE time having a conversation. Did you think I blinked myself to the parking lot and back in the time it took to ring up the pack of gum?" The cashier gets another cashier and yet another. It is a small gathering of cashiers to discuss my cart. Where is my cart? WHERE IS MY CART? The police are called. The story is told. MY CART. MY. CART. IS. GONE. Gone, it is not that hard to explain. One moment, here. Next moment, Gone.
Target has no idea what to do. They twirl around. They look at the return counter. They check out the snack bar. They walkie-talkie, which I can only assume would be more cashiers. Maybe they are the brilliant cashiers and can find my cart. I am getting angry. The kid is staring at me.
Next thing I know, a old man, a very, very old man comes up to me and says "This is not my cart." I look at the cart. It is my cart. He explains that as he was loading it into his car, none of these things were items he could remember buying. He did not need a lamp or flip flops that can go into the shower. He had gone into the restroom, came out and just grabbed whatever cart was closest to him and headed out to the parking lot. Oh he was sorry. In fact, he said, look here, this is my cart. Look at how similar they are. Twins if you will. Identical twins. I look. I look again.
His cart had a container of gatorade. Yep, twins.
The kid is all moved into his dorm. He resides on the fourth floor, with no elevator I might add, so carrying that mini-fridge was very hard on the cab driver we hired. It was also hard on the helper dude who carried up the 44 lb suitcase that I was in charge off. I carried up some bottled water and that was HARD, I also had my purse, so I was really working it.
Dropping off your college kids, is quite the experience. As far as I could figure it went something like, the moms crying and carrying in Rubbermaid clear containers marked with cookies and beautiful bedding, the dads hardly slowing the car down and trying to get the kids to just leap out.
The girls are SO WAY AHEAD of the boys it isn't even funny. The boys bring a pen, a mini-fridge and pants. The girls, they bring the entire pottery barn catalog as well as a small terrace that comes complete with flowers, a chaise lounge and a water feature. The boys have two small boxes and the girls need twelve camels to carry their items. I want a girl!
We headed to Target to buy the multitude of weird items that a dorm room needs. A clock, a light, clear plastic containers, hangers, something called a shower caddy, and flip-flops you can wear in the shower. All of our items are beige, black or white. The girls, get turquoise, pink, purple, yellow, magenta, mint green, light blue, the entire pastel color wheel is theirs.
I tackled a Target employee and got the last mini fridge in the entire town. Yeah me. It is black. Not yeah me. I bought black hangers, white containers. I did sneak in a lime green little table because I am such a rebel.
We bought our items. We paid for our items. We loaded our items in the cart. I turned around to get the receipt from the cashier. Someone stole my cart. Yep, my cart. RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE TARGET STORE. At first your mind goes blank, GONE, the entire cart, THE HANGERS. Someone seriously just stole HANGERS. AND A SHOWER CADDY. This is one desperate thief.
The cashier asks me "Did I take it out to the car?" "The car!" I shout "I have been standing in front of you the ENTIRE time having a conversation. Did you think I blinked myself to the parking lot and back in the time it took to ring up the pack of gum?" The cashier gets another cashier and yet another. It is a small gathering of cashiers to discuss my cart. Where is my cart? WHERE IS MY CART? The police are called. The story is told. MY CART. MY. CART. IS. GONE. Gone, it is not that hard to explain. One moment, here. Next moment, Gone.
Target has no idea what to do. They twirl around. They look at the return counter. They check out the snack bar. They walkie-talkie, which I can only assume would be more cashiers. Maybe they are the brilliant cashiers and can find my cart. I am getting angry. The kid is staring at me.
Next thing I know, a old man, a very, very old man comes up to me and says "This is not my cart." I look at the cart. It is my cart. He explains that as he was loading it into his car, none of these things were items he could remember buying. He did not need a lamp or flip flops that can go into the shower. He had gone into the restroom, came out and just grabbed whatever cart was closest to him and headed out to the parking lot. Oh he was sorry. In fact, he said, look here, this is my cart. Look at how similar they are. Twins if you will. Identical twins. I look. I look again.
His cart had a container of gatorade. Yep, twins.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Sadness
Tonight the kid and I had his big going away to college dinner. We got all dressed up and headed to Gearhart to celebrate.
While I sat there and listened to him talk about his future, his plans, his hopes and dreams, his life, I remembered 8 years ago.
He was heading off to his first day of fifth grade. His first day at a new school. The tv was on, which was odd since we never had it on in the morning. I was nervous. He was nervous. We were hardly paying attention to anything but the butterfly feelings we were experiencing. The tv was in the back ground. When the tv suddenly became the focus. The events that were taking place. The horror that was unfolding before our very eyes. It was as if the entire morning took on a slow motion effect, I couldn't look away. I turned off the tv and headed off to school, his first day, now not important and yet, so important, as if I was searching for normal that wasn't going to be found ever again.
The school was packed. Parents shocked and kids, thankfully, unaware. We left in huge groups. People we didn't know meeting up with other people we didn't know and yet we needed them. We grouped together on the sidewalk and watched tv through the window. And cried. And didn't understand. And hurt. Oh, the hurt, so unbelievable painful. Hugged and moved on to our cars and headed to our home. Home that a few hours ago had been a sanctuary and now, now just seemed broken.
The ex and I walked our dog. Our neighborhood was quiet, since we are on the flight path and all flights had been grounded. The neighbors were out, somber, scared, shaken, just like we were. Hugs were exchanged. For a moment, we were all one. One large group trying to make sense of a senseless act. Trying to decided how to regroup, how to explain to children the unexplainable. How to make sense of something that had no rhyme or reason. In the end, it was people hugging, crying and just giving in to the emotion of unbelievable sadness.
Now it is eight years later. Time has gone on and the raw emotion of that day has passed. Yet, has it really? Doesn't everyone remember where they were? How they felt? What they did? How they reached out? That kindness and compassion were what we gave away in abundance. Expecting nothing in return. Isn't that how it is suppose to be?
Tonight, as I watched a bubbly, enthusiastic eighteen year old get ready to embark on the start of his adult life, I gave a thought to that day, and the parents who don't get to have this moment. My heart broke all over again.
While I sat there and listened to him talk about his future, his plans, his hopes and dreams, his life, I remembered 8 years ago.
He was heading off to his first day of fifth grade. His first day at a new school. The tv was on, which was odd since we never had it on in the morning. I was nervous. He was nervous. We were hardly paying attention to anything but the butterfly feelings we were experiencing. The tv was in the back ground. When the tv suddenly became the focus. The events that were taking place. The horror that was unfolding before our very eyes. It was as if the entire morning took on a slow motion effect, I couldn't look away. I turned off the tv and headed off to school, his first day, now not important and yet, so important, as if I was searching for normal that wasn't going to be found ever again.
The school was packed. Parents shocked and kids, thankfully, unaware. We left in huge groups. People we didn't know meeting up with other people we didn't know and yet we needed them. We grouped together on the sidewalk and watched tv through the window. And cried. And didn't understand. And hurt. Oh, the hurt, so unbelievable painful. Hugged and moved on to our cars and headed to our home. Home that a few hours ago had been a sanctuary and now, now just seemed broken.
The ex and I walked our dog. Our neighborhood was quiet, since we are on the flight path and all flights had been grounded. The neighbors were out, somber, scared, shaken, just like we were. Hugs were exchanged. For a moment, we were all one. One large group trying to make sense of a senseless act. Trying to decided how to regroup, how to explain to children the unexplainable. How to make sense of something that had no rhyme or reason. In the end, it was people hugging, crying and just giving in to the emotion of unbelievable sadness.
Now it is eight years later. Time has gone on and the raw emotion of that day has passed. Yet, has it really? Doesn't everyone remember where they were? How they felt? What they did? How they reached out? That kindness and compassion were what we gave away in abundance. Expecting nothing in return. Isn't that how it is suppose to be?
Tonight, as I watched a bubbly, enthusiastic eighteen year old get ready to embark on the start of his adult life, I gave a thought to that day, and the parents who don't get to have this moment. My heart broke all over again.
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