Dear Mom

Good morning. It's been a long time since I talked to you. Are you out in the world of spirits feeling fine and having a good time? I can see you and Dad dancing up a storm and laughing.
Remember when you and he would put on your nice clothes and go dancing on Saturday nights? Sometimes, you'd take me with you. Later on, I'd get tired and go out and sleep in the back seat of that big ole green Plymouth. I didn't know it then, but those were good days. I remember once I took a big swig of your Mogan David concord grape wine by accident. I was about nine. It was about the awfullest grape juice I ever tasted. You and Dad laughed about it...pointing and saying something about green persimmons, then laughing harder.

Do you remember when you and I drove to Nowata so I could interview for that scholarship? When I got it I was so happy. I was always happy to make you proud. We stayed in a hotel in Claremore and had room service...that was treat enough, but then you ordered shrimp cocktail for me. I'd never had it before. Thank you for that experience. I'm sorry I didn't finish college and make you prouder, but I kinda lost myself when you left.

I don't think I've ended up badly, though. I wound up enlisting, marrying a good and intelligent man, and bearing him two sons. It hasn't exactly been a happily-ever-after kind of thing, but then, most things aren't. We are still together, and the love is still there, despite the curves life has thrown us. Thanks for teaching me perserverence and patience...and so many other things that have gotten me through.

The boys are teenagers now. Have you seen them? I'm so sorry you moved on before you could hold your grandsons, and sorrier that they only get to hear stories of you. Sometimes I see you in them, and it's beautiful. They are so smart, Momma. You'd be so proud of them both. The older one is pensive and quiet, but has a marvelous sense of humor when he lets it show. I'll never forget the look in his eyes when he was born. He was so alert...he just studied me with his curious and serious eyes. His eyes are grey-blue, like yours. He keeps inside himself a lot like I used to do, but he doesn't miss a trick. I hope I don't have to break down his walls like you had to do for me that time. The younger one has a way of understanding people emotionally, and his wit can be quite uncanny for a boy his age. He's a clown, and has been since before he could sit up. He loves to speak in silly voices and accents. He's very open and loving, and he has a strong appreciation and love of music, all kinds. They are both the lights of my life.

I like to think you're out there... up there... somewhere... watching... when you've got the time. Just make sure you're getting time to dance.

Life Lessons

Life lessons suck. Oh sure, in the long run they build you into a stronger person, but at the time you're learning one, the fact that you'll come through it stronger is only a wisp of silver barely tracing a very ugly black cloud. So thin a wisp in fact, that lots of folks don't ever see it.

This is because most life lessons are learned the hard way. It's that instant regret that does it, that memory that rears it's head to remind you that you should've known better. Somebody somewhere tried to tell you, or show you, but you didn't heed. These are the lessons that leave you tasting your tangy toes, or bruised from the kick of your own boot to your behind, or stinging from the backlash of your own sharp tongue...often all three at the same time.

And when you remember the incident of your learning, you cringe with shame on the inside, because it still stings a little. But...whatever it was you did...I betcha don't do it again.

hanging on

We're having a mild winter, for the most part. There a a spattering of snow and ice last month, but since then, it's been unseasonably warm. I drove from work one day last week with the sun roof open. It was sixty degrees in January. Last year, around this time, it was closer to six degrees than sixty. I'm fine with sixty, mind you, especially if I have to keep going when it snows, but it's just kinda strange not to need a coat in the northern hemisphere in January.

Something else I noticed that's a little weird, too...some of the deciduous trees still have leaves on them. I never really noticed it before; the leaves turn brown but keep hanging on. I guess there just hasn't been enough wind to blow them away. Seems like they should have fallen to the ground or blown away a long time ago, but there they hang, kinda like that broken branch I talked about before (yeah, it's still stuck)...ghosts without the sense or will or ability to move on.

Groovy

Well...I lived through the holidays. Maybe we'll manage to get the tree down by March. Heck, we didn't even get it up and decorated until a week before Christmas, so maybe it deserves to be up till March.

I'm working on getting back to routine, and it's easier than I expected. I didn't get to sleep till 2:00 a.m. this morning, and had to wake up at 5:30. I ought to be wiped out, but so far, I'm okay. I'll probably pay for it later today.

Last night, the husband and I were talking about getting things back to normal again. He said I wouldn't have too much trouble getting 'back in the groove.' I told him, "That's because it's a rut, not a groove. The trouble isn't getting into it, it's getting out."

Ever drive on a road that is rutted from massive amounts of traffic? It doesn't matter if it's paved or not, both kinds of roads get rutted. You ever try not to drive in the ruts? It's damn near impossible. Your tires just want to drive there. It's just easier to stay in the well-worn ruts, than to concentrate on getting out of them and staying out of them.

Grooves are all right, till they become ruts. Gotta watch out for those easy grooves.