It is my wish to be left alone in the ways I want to be left alone and not in the ways I don't want to be left alone. Am I making sense? Probably not. Ummm. Leave me alone but don't leave me? Nah.. There's got to be a better way to say this. I guess what I am trying to say is I want to rest in peace, but still be alive. Geeeeeeeeesh! Do we really have to wait a whole lifetime for that? I mean is resting in peace literally to die for? Inquiring minds want to know.
One week ago was a second ceremony of sorts for my mother. The first was in the month after we lost her. Today was us bringing her to her final resting place. My feelings are all over the place right now, so I guess I should talk about them.
Momma, you drove me crazy. I know I drove you crazy. We had our moments, didn't we? Do you remember my smug 16-year-old self declaring that I didn't need to learn how to cook? Do you remember my more humble 40-something self who raised three kids, planned and cooked meals for them, and was so grateful that you taught me how to cook anyway? The same one who would call you on the phone and would be like, "Hey, Momma, what kind of flour for salmon patties? How long should soak the black-eyed peas?" But do you know what I remember most? You were always there for me, no matter what. The teenager that I was didn't quite understand, but I do. I really do. That teenager didn't think there would come a time when his future grown self would want to run to his mother and cry on her shoulder, but I did.. I remember every time. After my wreck. During my painful divorce. During difficult moments of having to be mother and father to three little ones I wanted so badly to have a normal childhood. I remember it clearly. My Momma was always there for me, never abandoned me, never left me so long as it was within her control. This last time? Well, I know you didn't really have a choice.
This having occurred so soon after Marsha, I had a difficult time separating losing her and losing you. Each loss hits differently, but it is also like a remix of two songs... And it's like my mind has weird ways of the remix.... Marsha lives in my dreams, and you, you Momma, are the one I talk to when on the line between awake and asleep. I have even woke myself up, "Momma?" Then I have to ask myself whether or not I am going crazy. I don't even know what i am trying to say here, except that I miss you, I love you, and that is one thing I hope that you know to be true.
I have a special talent. What is it? I could start at 3am and still be running in circles like a dazed chicken to get my stuff together for work. This morning, however, was not such an early start. See, I have 2 alarms. Regular and Oh Shit! Sleepy me waited for the Oh Shit! Alarm. Then I realized it was Mr Garbage Man's day to show, and there wasn't anything ready to go to the road. So, I got all that together, packed my lunch, got myself clean and dressed (a very important step), and yadda yadda Yoda and not necessarily in that order. Looked at the clock, and what did I say? OH Shit! Still made it on time but forgot my meds. Note to self, take em when I get home. See, it doesn't seem to matter how many times I tell myself to get all my ducks in a row before I konk out the night before. I seem to have only one thing on my mind when I get home: Sleep. That's the cycle. Nighttime me is too tired to think about it, and morning me has to pick up all the slack. Procrastination: I'm so good at it, I can do it in my sleep. Man, I'm not feeling so well today. Maybe it's this oppressive heat. Or maybe it's the fact I forgot my medicine this morning. All I know is that this world is a bit fuzzy wuzzy today. Although this time it's not for the lack of sleep this time. In fact, I damn near overslept. I'll be so happy to go home, in the air, and under the fan. The air here is so thick with humidity that it's gotta almost be water. I feel like I'm underwater anyway. And last I checked, I'm not a mermaid. Under Da Sea, Under Da Sea.
Do you know? No matter how much we change and grow, no matter how much we improve and mature, it is so very difficult to let go of a past that can never be changed. We often judge ourselves far more harshly for the things from before we were truly ourselves. And believe you me, The most tragic of all trials is the case of "You vs The Person You Once Were." There can be no defense. That person is long gone, yet the burden remains. Friends, there's nothing we can do. Maybe forgiveness is not just for others. Maybe we should save some of that for ourselves. We are all born ignorant of a lot of things. Not knowing, not realizing, it happens to the best of us. Who wouldn't want to jump in a time machine and totally school our past selves? There are so many things I was blind to that I see so clearly now. Are we to blame for not looking or not seeing? Are we to blame for not knowing, not thinking things through? Who the hell knows? Life is a hell of a thing.
Made it into my voicemail for the first time in 5 years. I got rid of all the spam and the calls from the bug lady. So now, people can leave me voicemails again. But let me tell you what I saved: messages from Wesley from before his voice changed, My Dad........ And Momma. I'd call her back if I could. Sadly, it only saved some of the many messages I had. The birthday messages Marsha left for me appear to have been permanently lost. I would have loved to have heard them again. Thems the breaks, I guess. I am going to try to find a way to save what I do have to my computer. Verizon can't delete what I save to disk. As it turns out, Bluetooth and Audacity was all I needed. I saved them in three different audio formats, so hopefully that means they'll be preserved for the ages.
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