My Pack Rat

My beloved husband, he might be a little bit of a packrat. Only occasionally, don't get me wrong. For the most part it's pretty cool stuff. Models he's created, paintings he's done, dreams and wishes of his youth. But it also contains four large Rubbermaid totes of Star Wars items.

So, when watching the Mandalorian and hollering out every ship or fighter or a trooper or what not… He then comments somewhere under his breath "I think I have one of those!"

His daughter then squeals with the light and forces him to pause the movie, go downstairs and find it.

This is Bobba Fett's ship, Slave 1. From 1981. 

And the smile of a vindicated husband who was happy he saved all his stuff.

His Tears

When my son cries, my heart breaks.

I'm sure it's the same for many moms.

All the protection and love and compassion - and then he cries and I can't fix it for him. And my heart doesn't know what to do. 

He was terrified to show us seven weeks of school work that he's been amassing in his backpack.

Terrified.

Shaking and sobbing..."I'm so so scared you'll be disappointed in me."

Hear me that we love on this manchild like no other. With reckless abandon.

His need to have his bucket filled is daily - and his bucket is deep - fraught with worry. Worry to the point where sometimes I can't grab him back from the brink fast enough. 

It's not about a lack of love or attention.

It's unadulterated anxiety.

That somehow he can't control or verbalize - and I can't snag him from the pit he sends himself to.

He was filled with fear and shame we wouldn't be happy with his work.

Which was all A's and B's. And "Good Job!" and "Well Done."

"Bubba, what in here makes you worried?" I say.

"I don't know," he sniffs and sobs and heaves.

"Is there something in here that I should be concerned about?" I follow.

"No," he mutters.

My arms can't hug him tight enough. I can't grab enough tissues. I can't solve it or fix it. I can just be present.

He has to battle back on his own. With copious amounts of quiet tones, gentle hugs, thumbs wiping tears from cheeks rosy with heat.

It took him a good 20 minutes to breathe clearly.

Ten more to have the rosy cheeks subside.

He made it. He came back. 

But oh, my torn-up heart.

The 11:55pm Arrival

My BFF lamented today. This is the last of our Internet memories that remind us that we have taken a trip together for the last 5 to 10 years or so. Every time in late November or early December.

I miss her so much it hurts.

I will see her again, perhaps even for a short visit over the holidays. When you've been friends for 24 years, a few months is nothing but a blip on the radar.

But I saw a plane fly overhead. And I'm reminded of our time together and my arrival back into the airport. The 11:55 PM slot on Delta from Atlanta.

I'm usually exhausted, it's been a whirlwind. I won't know when I'll see her again. Sometimes it's a few weeks later sometimes it's not until spring break.

But I will have loved every second of it. And this year, I don't get that chance. Somewhere deep down inside there's some lesson to that. But right now, I long for the days to hear the pilot overhead, the final descent into the airport, baggage claim and ground transportation.

One day soon. Here's hoping.

Doing that Thing

I got a chance to do that thing I love to do- hang out in a flower shop and decorate. Again!

This time for a pretty notable family. With egregious amounts of money. Like I am unpacking $40 Christmas ornaments in cases of 12.

With a 17 foot Christmas tree, and more ornaments than I have ever seen in my life. But oh my goodness, it was glorious and gorgeous and wonderful!

Of course you can't take pictures, there are privacy agreements and not disclosures. But the experience was enough to make me giddy. 

Sometimes those little nudges of dreams coming true actually become reality. 

Yay!

Drop Off

A couple of years ago I began to giggle at my cousin who said she was wearing down a path from our neighborhood up to the middle school and high school. Constant trips up and down the major road, back-and-forth, forgetting this, needing that.

I laughed thinking that my little hamlet of my neighborhood and our elementary school kept me within a good half mile square piece of land.

Late Sunday night, we got the plan together about what we would do when Bubba couldn't get Bus Service this week. It's a critical shortage, Covid is putting a huge damper on transportation and his route was suspended for one week. I also happen to work at Bubba's school during the middle of the day. So first it's a trip down to drop him off. Then it's my errands. Then it's back to the school to work. Then it's back to school at the end of the day to pick him up.

That road that I teased my cousin about… That road and I...we are going to come best friends this week!

Oooof!

Blog Reading

Thirteen years ago I started writing a blog.

10 years ago I started printing them and creating books. When I stopped writing and 2017, I switched over to Instagram primarily and began publishing the books that I was creating in cyberspace.

Three separate times this weekend I have found my children finding the box, and scrolling through their lives. It was exactly what I hoped would happen all those years ago when the words started coming out of my mouth.

Turkey Day

Happy Thanksgiving!

It's not entirely as I had hoped, my wish was that Covid was gone by now and that we could I'll be back around my table. But that's just not the case and I'm so proud of the entire family for adjusting and adapting appropriately. I would rather have us all here next year then to rush something this year.

That being said, it certainly didn't feel exactly like the thanksgivings I'm used to. There's supposed to be cacophony. 

There is supposed to be mashed potatoes overflowing and mountains of gravy and lots of laughs and way too many dishes.

And magically with a snap of a finger, people drift back out with promises and longing for the next year.

Alas, it was just my parents this year. But the best part was the ability to make dinner for my cousin who is working his tail off keeping people healthy. The front line teams in the hospitals deserve so much love.

And we will have next year. And there will be more turkeys and more laughs. 

And yes, even more dishes. 

And I will rejoice and be glad.