The Couch Chronicles...Continued

There is no denying that the last few years have been rocky, rough and at times, sucked hairy, saggy balls.   Throughout this time, I've known that there is a light at the end of the tunnel although I didn't always see it, I hoped and prayed I would.  Sometimes I would get a glimmer of it and other times it was pitch black...I was in a very dark, toxic place.  I almost let it consume me and poison my spirit.   But each day I would wake up and fight the urge to throw in the towel, to say, "fuck it" or even to take a giant step back and revert to the familiar because the unknown is scary af (like my kids say). This dreary, wet Seattle-like winter didn't help...I need sunny days like a Tweaker needs a fix.   Recently, I spotted a faint glow.  That light I have been in search of is in my sight.  It's not fading in and out like before, it's illuminating my path.  It has helped me to see things I couldn't see before and to discover a part of my world I ...

I  recently had a discussion with a work colleague about how traumatic events  impact the students we work with.  She explained that when she presents a workshop on grief, she has her participants fold a piece of paper in half.  In the center of the paper, on the crease, she tells them to imagine whatever it is they are grieving...to the left they write down what life was like before the event and to the right of the crease, life after the event.   That was so profound...I immediately folded my own piece of paper in my mind.  There it was, clear as day:  Me before Jonathan's death (crease) Me after Jonathan's death.  But it didn't stop there...there were so many more before and after events I needed to acknowledge.  It was a lightbulb  moment!  It's no secret I am a different person than I was 17 months ago...life will not be the same ever again, but it is my life to live.  

When I was a very little girl, I apparently had trouble saying my name and so what came out was "Nini."  As a result, I can walk in to a place and hear someone shout, "Nini!"  Now don't get excited and think, "Oh, I'm going to call her that when I see her."  Let me just say this, "Don't!"  That special name is reserved for extremely close friends and family.  So if that's got you thinking, "Damn.  Fine.  I'll just call you Bitch because that's how you're acting" go right ahead.  "Nini" is special in that it was used and still is used by a group of people that have known me since time began, well at least since my time on this earth began.   So that got me thinking about the special names I have given people over the years and the significance to the relationships that go with it.  You see some names are given out of pure spite, others out of fun and still others from pure affection.  For example, ...

There comes a time in your life when you realize life is about to change...life as you know it will never be the same. The birth of my son was one of those times and the birth of my daughter was another.  The tragic death of my nephew was yet another time when I knew, life as I knew it, was over. Today, as I make my way back to the great state of Texas, I'm wrestling with a familiar feeling.  I felt it when I boarded the plane...that pull from deep within, the sixth sense, the gut feeling.   In the past I would do one of two things,  roll with the flow or fight that feeling.  Not this time, this time I  want to embrace it, fuel the fire that's burning and for those of you who have worked with me, it's not my gastritis (pronounced in Spanish).  It's something, like before, that's going to be life changing.  It's already starting... This time, it's all about a boy...

Sometimes it's too much to think about, too tragic, and I don't believe it.  I wait for a call or a random text, to hear your voice and your laughter...I get nothing.  I  see your picture every day.  It's sits on our fridge in a make shift altar Thomas made for you as a school project for Dia De Los Muertos...I can't put it away.  I don't want to put it away.  If it had been anything else, the kids would have already asked, "Mama, why do you still have that up there?"  They need it to stay in place, just like I do.  It's off limits, no one can touch it.   It's been a year since I received that phone call.  The call I knew was a joke, a prank, some kind of terrible mistake.  You couldn't be gone.  We hadn't done all the things we said we would do.  You hadn't grown up yet.   I spent the next month in a fog.  I was like a functioning alcoholic. (I bet this made you laugh.)  I woke up, I went to work, I cooked ...

I must admit this is a very catchy slogan from the folks at Corona.  Most people thoroughly enjoy the beach and can recall a pleasurable moment.  So when the camera zooms in to that ice cold bottle of beer dressed with salt and lime, over looking a crystal blue sea and white sandy beach, and the announcers encourages you to "find your beach" what comes to mind?  Drinking?  Vacation?  A scene from a black and white film where a couple shares a passionate kiss as the waves crash against them?  That particular movie scene makes me cringe at the thought of sand in unmentionable places, water up my noise, and salty kisses.  Not that all salty kisses are a bad thing...a salty kiss with a hint of tequila and lime can be a good thing, if memory serves. If "your beach" is metaphorically the place that brings you happiness, than my "beach" has changed over the years.   When I was a kid, my beach was Disneyland or anywhere that was fairy tale and fantasy. ...

and she's on fire..."  My second biological was born ten years ago today.  She is more than I could have ever asked for and being her mom is an honor.  Today's blog is dedicated to my baby girl. My Dearest CRR, Wow, God sure knew what he was doing when He sent you to me.  I haven't figured out what He was doing, but I'm glad He knows.  :) On this day, ten years ago, Dr. Van set you on my chest and I knew at that very moment that you were going to be a dynamo.  You were already mad as hell and you let the entire delivery room know it.  The tiny little curls shaped like the letter C all over your small precious noggin left me wondering how on earth I was going to tame what would soon be a wild mane or like your brother once described it, a bird's nest. So today baby girl, on the day of your double-digit, decade birthday, I want you to know a few things: pray in good times and in bad times talk to me about things even if you think it will upse...