The Peace Lily

When Roger died, I asked for others not to buy me flowers but plants.
I could not handle more dead things laying around my house.
So I received a few plants.
Three are still living.
One small peace lily, a larger peace lily, and a vine.

The vine has been amazing.
It has grown a lot and has even bloomed a few times.
It sits in the kitchen where it fights with the blinds for light.
It is also a succulent so I do not have to worry if I forget to water it.
Which tends to happen.

The large peace lily is living yes but it has never been very healthy.
I guess it does not like its location.
The leaves are ragged edges all year long.
It has never bloomed again.
I am not sure if it has even grown much.
But it sits right outside the kitchen window and I stare at it wondering if I should move it or just let it be.

The small peace lily has waxed and waned.
A few times I thought it was going to die.
Sometimes it would not get watered.
But it always came back.
Last summer I even had to repot it.
So in a new pot and outside on the patio it went.
I figured if it died outside at least I wouldn't have to witness it in my kitchen.

This past weekend as I was walking by the windows to the patio I noticed something.
I walked out onto the patio and noticed two things.
Two blooms.
After four years, it has finally bloomed again.
Finally.

Maybe it is a sign.
Or maybe it is a sign that I needed.
Yes, I did the right thing by re-financing my house.
Yes, Mr. X is a good match and will be an excellent husband.
Yes, things will be good this time.

40 Some More Days

Weddings should be a time of stress, excitement, and happiness.
But I feel like I am tainted.
I am excited.
I am happy.
I am stressed.
I am also scared.
Not of things at the wedding going wrong.
But of life going wrong.
Again.

For my birthday, I want a wife card.
But what if I am not a wife on my birthday.

Mr. X talked about having a wife for Christmas this year.
But what if...

Part of me is so beyond scared.

What if life falls apart again?
I do not know if I have the strength to go through this again.
As all widows know, we are still going through it the first time on a daily basis.
But to have double....

Please dear God.
Please.

Birds of Change

I love weird, sad, odd movies.
And have for a long time.  Yes, I still see mainstream movies and I am not quite a movie snob but I will go to something where I am the only person in the theatre.
Netflix recommends categories like "Emotional Independent Father-Son Movies" and "Oscar Winning Dark Movies" and "Witty Dysfunctional Family Comedies".
And something I learned somewhere.
God knows where.
I heard or read that birds in movies symbolize change in the plot.
Sometimes good.
Sometimes bad.
But always a symbol of change.
And in these movies that I love, I see it.
Suddenly a scene to the sky with a flock of birds soaring through the sky.
And the movie turns.
I have a bird in my photography business logo for this reason.
Healing. New beginnings.

I have been debating a new tattoo for a while.
A bird has been one of the contenders.
Something I could see when I wanted.
Not so hidden away.
So I picked my foot.
And I picked birds.
This is what I did today.

And as I looked down at the bigger bird.
Completely unintentional, I saw my dad.
He was into our Cherokee heritage and loved eagles.
After it was all over.
And I was back in the car, the tears came.
I miss him so much.
I see him in the mirror and now I will see him everywhere I go.

#585

You were a dork.
I was hesitant.
I was scared.
I fought back against falling for you.
You were my best friend.
You were patient.
And kind.
Slowly I got close to you.
You kept pulling me closer.
I let you in.
My walls came down.
I loved you.
You loved me.
I believed in marriage.
I was happy.
I was settled.
My soul felt content.
And complete.

And slowly you died.
Six long, long days.
Then gone.
You left.
My heart split wide open.
Exposed.
I love you still.

4 years

Four years ago, you gave me one of the best days of my life.
I remember the ride from the ceremony to take some pictures.
We were both so happy.
So on top of the world.
I was so happy to be your wife.
You were very hyper.

Thank you for everything.
Thank you for being you.
Thank you for giving me this life.
No matter how hard some days.
I am thankful.

The Other House - Part 2

As I noted, at the end of January, my renters moved out.

And in that, Mr. X and I have done a lot of time at the house preparing it for new renters.

We had to paint about half the house, install a new over the range microwave, steam the carpets, and some light cleaning.

Well after we selected the new color.

And as we were painting the walls, I started to think.

[Painting does that to me. Maybe the monotony?] 

"Would Roger like this color?"

"What would he think?"

"Wow, would he even recognize it now with all the new colors inside and out?"

And then meeting potential new tenants.  

I miss his handling most of this.

I miss him being in charge of the other house. 

And as another family moves in over the next few weeks, I wonder what he would think of them.

Am I choosing the right people?  

Will they be good to the house?  

Not to mention how this is all happening in February.

Of all months, February.  

At least it is not August.

Twenty One

In my class, I have been teaching about mechanical interactions.
Things like friction and drag.
And the perfect example of drag is, of course, skydiving.

When I was fifteen or so, I made a promise to myself and my high school best friend that we would go bungee jumping before sixteen and skydiving before twenty-one.
We went bungee jumping in Gatlinburg, Tennessee the summer before I turned sixteen.
Five years later, my twenty-first birthday was creeping up.
So I decided since my twenty-first birthday was on a boring ol' Monday, I would go skydiving the weekend before.
I found some friends who said they would go.
We went to the place, signed the paper work, watched the safety video, but weather was a no go.

My actual birthday, I went to class like a good girl and on my way home noticed the weather looked like perfect skydiving weather.
And in a time before cell phones were flooding our pockets, I drove home to call Skydive Deland.
I got home and the light was blinking.
They had left a message on my answering machine.
I called my friend but she was too busy spending time with her boyfriend.

So I rushed over, alone.
My adrenaline was pumping.
My eyes were big.
I could not quit smiling.
Life was good.
Twenty-one was good.

Of course, I bought the VHS tape of my jump but I have not watched it in years due to the fact it is VHS.
My homeroom (reading) class, who is also in my science classes, were amazed I had been skydiving and asked to watch the video.
And since Fridays are generally more relaxed and my classroom has a tape player, I brought in the video.

Wow.
Twenty-one year old me.  I have not seen you in so long.
You did not even know that your next birthday would be spent living in New York City.
You had not even fell in love yet. Even though you had a long term boyfriend before this time.
That would happen for the first time later that month.
You had not even traveled to far off places and did not even have a passport.
You had no idea what life would hold for you.
You were mature but yet life was full of surprises still.
Your friend Tom will still be your friend.
You will be a teacher in about ten years.

And you will lose so much.
You will hurt and bleed. And you will scar.
You will be in a serious accident where the unbelievable comes true.
You will be your happiest and your lowest all in six months time.
And you will jump again.