There is love…

Not many people are able to watch their Mother’s love story unfold.  In most cases, it happens before you arrive.  Not for us though, we never do anything according to convention.  I knew the moment when her face lit up, the first time she mentioned him. When you love someone, you can tell when they are in love.  You know it. You see it always…even when they have to make tough decisions.  When they have to watch the love of their life take a journey that they can’t follow them on.  I have watched for just over 20 years, the ebb and flow…the push and pull…of love. When you dream of a love of epic proportions you go through life expecting that it may never find you and if it does, it certainly won’t be easy. I watched my Mom, the love and the bravery, spending so much time with feeling it was only one-sided…only to learn her love was destined to be returned.  For a short span of time…they both finally knew.  Is it ever enough time?  Does it matter…if the love was always there holding them? There was no ceremony…there were no rings…there was no paperwork…by choice given their beautifully intertwined life philosophies…but there was love…and in the end…the one left holding the pieces that remain…is still…a widow.

Music Gifting...

Music is everything…it is how I was raised.  Sometimes a song can take you right back to a special place that is pure happiness.  For me, one of those places is sitting in the back seat of my Grandpa’s silver Mark V…turbine wheels…smooth maroon leather seats…playing with my beloved “ducky” (who was kept in that particular car for me) while he played groovy tunes for me.  It was the best.  I always knew how to groove.  Head swaying to music is a sign of a good soul…and you are born with it.  I miss him every single day…his hugs…his stories…his belief that I should be a big boss someday and write novels too.  I remember always playing music for him… “Grandpa…what do you think of this?”  He was the coolest and I think the only music he didn’t like was the Trance stuff that “sounded like I was building something in my room”.  The music was never too loud.  He got it.  He played the saxophone…he was full of soul.  He always slipped me money for music and understood the urgency of needing to get to Sam Goody or Tower Records. 

One of the greatest feelings is when you find new music that speaks to you.  I was driving around this morning…summertime vibes…windows down…and something new came through the airwaves.  It made me wish that I could share it with Grandpa.  Sitting together…with a quadrophonic sound system surrounding us.  Grooving. Chatting.  I could catch him up on all of the things.  In this moment as the music wraps around and holds me…I know he is here with me…and he thinks everything is copacetic.

Streaks...

There is an app for that...for streaks.  I remember numerous joywalking adventures with my friend Molli where we would postulate about how great it would be to have an app to help motivate you by tracking how many times a day/week/month you do something.  And now...there is something.  Above all else it has helped me to do something that I should do multiple times a day but do not.  Check my blood sugar.  Somehow, someway...this little app that let's me do streaks for whatever I want - checking blood sugar at least three times a day, going to the gym, taking a lunch break, vacuuming the steps, swiffering the floors, taking a walk, and doing something twice a week to be socially active (not shown) - is getting me healthier.  I am checking my blood sugar more than just once a day.  This is huge.  Knowledge is power.  When you know what your blood sugar is, you can actually manage it.  After 30 years, I have finally found something that motivates me to not be afraid to know my number all day long.  Plus, I am taking time to each lunch each day and doing all the other things that I want to do.  Doing the things that matter...

That one last knock on the head...

Early on a Monday morning...ready to head out before 5:30am...heading to the gym...then deciding to head to work early to get things done...and then maybe go to the gym at work...deicing your car...taking the trash out...then a recycle bin in each hand...then...your feet fly up in front of you...the recycle bins fly...and whap...in a flash...you fall back...head hitting the driveway.  Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something one...last...time.  Slow it down. Perhaps your best bet is to turn off your car...head back inside the house...and just stay home.  And so I did.  It was one last knock on the head.  I felt nauseous.  I felt lucky.  I started thinking about what could have happened if not for my tiny little ponytail at the back of my head that helped to buffer my fall.  I iced. I slept. I ignored work emails.  I curled in all ball to sleep to stretch my neck...which I had remembered as a trick for whiplash from my car accident in the summer.  I took a day.  The world went on.  Things could wait.  I could wait.  I iced. I slept.  I felt empowered.  It was a moment...a moment that I could decide once and for all to change.  That one last knock on the head to know that the things that matter start within. A mild concussion...to set things right.