The Beauty in Broken Pieces

Hello Everyone! I am truly grateful to all or any of those who have found their way back to my little corner of the world. It means so much  to me.

Today, we are going to discuss broken pieces.  For some this is literal, and for others, metaphorical… for the purpose of today, my dear blogees, they can be one and the same. Because a broken heart, for example,  is a literal existence, but also metaphorical in certain contexts. 

Ok, so we all go through different  things in our lives, some people are fortunate to have never experienced true hard times or misfortune, so to them I say, WTF MAN!!! Lol. JK. But those few people are very fortunate. For the rest of us, who have either had a few rough times, or have been through the ringer, this blog is for you, and me of course.

Merriam Webster provides today’s definition:

BROKEN

   adjective

• violently separated into parts : shattered
•  damaged or altered by or as if by breaking (see break entry 1): such as having undergone or been subjected to fracture
• not working properly
• being irregular, interrupted, or full of obstacles
• violated by transgression : not kept or honored
•  discontinuous, interrupted
• disrupted by change

Yes, yes, yes, all of these. Sometimes individually, and sometimes all at once. 

• Shattered- been there.
•  Damaged or altered- I would say so,
•  Not working properly- you know they make medications for that? Lol 
• Being irregular, interrupted or full of obstacles- are you talking about me?
• Violated by transgression- uh, duh. 
• Discontinuous, interrupted- story of my life. 
• Disrupted by change- meh, nothing I cant handle.

So obviously I've had my fair share of damage. And there may be so many of you out there who have too, and believe it or not, it's OK It IS survivable. And it CAN be fantastic. I have always said that our life is what we make of it. We have literally no control of most things, but it shouldn't matter because it is not what happens to us, it is how we respond to it. 

 *NOTE!- not how we react to it. Reactions imply a negative response. Why? Have you ever heard of a positive allergic response? Exactly.

Anyways… When something is broken, the one thing that comes with it is the ability to fix it. But if something can not be fixed, why hold onto it?There is nothing wrong with letting something go, especially if it is not conducive to your peace, happiness or wellbeing. I know letting go is extremely difficult. I have let go of so many things in my life, many not by choice. But the ones that were by choice, became something wonderful…. Eventually.  Letting go does require a bit of patience, but like I always say, “it's not going to be like this forever.”

I have spoken many times about my son’s father. He's a great man. But 3 years ago, he was the root of my misery, because he himself was miserable. We had spent the better part of 5 years, at least, living in toxicity. We fought all the time, resented each other for making each other miserable, and all the good old fun drama you could expect when you spend literally half of your life with someone.  At some point, I couldn't do it anymore. We were the worst case scenario for each other, but despite it all, we loved each other too much to end it.  But what I discovered is that there was someone I loved more than him, other than my son of course, but I loved me more. And it wasn't selfish love, because I knew I could not be the best mom I needed to be living that way. How could I teach my son about love and happiness when I was being a total hypocrite being miserable with the person I loved.? I couldn't

So, I made the decision to live for me and I ended the relationship. And how did that end up, you ask? Well, I'm not going to lie, but the first year was really difficult. So many emotions to deal with after 18 years of being together, but I held my ground, and established my boundaries. And surprisingly, he respected them.

Today, I have a best friend. The best friend I had before the relationship. We talk about everything, talk about the people we date, the people we let go, the things that happen in our lives. When one of us is struggling, the other one picks up the slack, both financially and in regards to moral support. And it goes both ways. We have both been broken to pieces in the relationship. And what remained was literally a bunch of broken pieces. But here's the best part. With those pieces, we were able to recreate our own personal somethings. And our two separate somethings, are quite beautiful on their own, because they are built without the toxicity, the anger, the blame and resentment and all those negative things that caused us to break in the first place.

I didn't intend to make this blog about my relationship with him specifically. But it could not be more appropriately timed because it is his birthday.. sooo....

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BUTTHEAD!!!!!!

But it was probably the best example I could use to demonstrate my point, which is….

When things in your life fall apart, look at it as something fantastic. Obviously, whatever you were doing was not working, so it crumbled. When your pieces are lying there in front of you, that is a clean slate. You can take those pieces and turn them into whatever you want. Easier said than done right? Fair enough. But just changing the mindset of how you look at what you have in front of you is a good place to start.  Rebuilding will take time, no doubt. But you are going to have to rebuild anyways, might as well be something you can truly be happy with.

Take care little world! 

See you soon.

The Calm in the Storm (“What Kids?” Part 2)

Hello beautiful world!!! I hope you are living in the season of your choosing- unless you live in NEVADA, which means you only have two- freezing cold or burning hot. Today we got a taste of what we like to call back in California- “Autumn”, or at least it felt that way. That  made me happy. Autumn is my favorite season, but I haven't seen it since 2020. Who knew autumn came as one day in the middle of May?? Good to know:)

As  always my intro has nothing to do with what today's lovely blog is about, but hey, that's how I roll.

A few years ago, I wrote “What Kids?” and stated there would be a Part 2…I never said exactly when…but here it is… 3 or 4 years later…better late than never! Soooooo… on we go!

Before I get started I would like to just reiterate, that I am in no way an expert in parenting- that my dears is a true fallacy, and although I have taken multiple child development classes especially in the course of my nursing education,  I have found that while they do provide an  “insight” into child development, there is no better course in parenting, than to actually become a parent. Who would have known?

As I stated before, we have the potential to really screw up our kids. In that same respect, we also have the potential to create something really amazing. And to “toot my own horn” I did just that. But before I revel in my greatest accomplishment, let's talk about how that came to be. Backstory in 3…2..1…

A while back I wrote about how my life was all of a sudden turned upside down and I ended up living in my car. Well, unfortunately I wasn't alone. With me was my nine year old son and our two dogs. His dad was in a separate car. We spent about 3 years in our car doing everything we could to both survive and try to get out of our situation. One of my biggest fears was the emotional repercussions this experience could have on my son. He was such a sweet, innocent, kind hearted, loving, and wonderfully well behaved. The last thing I wanted was for anything to change any of it. I wasn't sure how I was going to prevent damage, or even if I could, but I couldn't dwell on it. I continued parenting him the way I always had and really hoped for the best.

Needless to say, being in a car came with many hardships and positions of potential dangers. My goal was to make it the least traumatic experience possible. The most significant instances were those of big change.

We had been housed for a couple short months and one day I was told we could no longer stay there and had to be out that night. My first thought, “don't panic”. But where the hell are you going to go when you're staying in the mountains, in the winter with a kid, two dogs, no gas and no money. 

So my son was all snug in his bed playing on his phone and I sat down next to him. I told him I needed to talk to him and he put down his phone. I held his hand and looked at his beautiful brown eyes and said,

“Baby, tonight there is going to be a big change. We cannot live here anymore.When the time comes, I need you to be strong and not get upset. You don't have to do any work, I will take care of it, but I still need you to be strong. So however you are feeling about it, let it out, process it now so you can be strong later. If you're scared, it's ok, so am I. If you need to cry,  cry, it's ok”He looked at me and said he was scared and we spent the next ten minutes both crying and hugging each other. I waited for him to let go first and then I wiped his eyes, asked him if he was ok and feeling better and he said yes. Then we calmly discussed what was going to happen next.  That evening, when the time came, he walked out of there confident and strong, and no longer scared. 

 

Now my baby is a senior in high school. He is emotionally intelligent, well adjusted, smart, smarter ass just like his mom and dad, still sweet, innocent, kind hearted, loving, still exceptionally well behaved and has accomplished some amazing things. 

There were too many times where we went through that process throughout our journey. Despite the number, it was a good thing we did.  One of the greatest gifts I gave him was providing a safe space to process his emotions. One where there is no judgment, no anger, no punishment, no questions. Just a place to allow him to deal with all the unfortunate situations and difficult moments and to know he was allowed to feel whatever he wanted or needed to feel. 

When you process emotions as they come, they don't get bottled up and explode all over the place later. Been there, done that, won't ever do it again, and especially wasn't going to  let that happen to my son.

I would never tell anyone how to raise their kids. But please remember- all of this emotional feeling stuff is new for them. Too many adults have been through it before many times and STILL have no idea how to process them. When a child learns how to process emotions at a young age, it gives them a sense of calm, security and confidence. Before you get angry about your child being upset, take a deep breath, sit with them, hold them, and let them learn their feelings. I guarantee you will learn a lot about yours as well.

Take care little world!

See you soon

Quiet Reciprocity

Glimmering under a cascade of darkness.
An unwavering energy bursting at the seams
Contained, repressed, submissively bold.
Entombed in a peaceless existence
Cloaked in the burden of harboring remnants of lost souls
Gone  too soon but never forgotten
But then…
One night…
One Psylli encounter.
Above the scintillation of the city lights
Two palms painstakingly push away the pain
Two energies intertwine under a blanket of white darkness
Prisms of colors sparkle,
Shimmering flecks of electricity ignited by the vibration of skin touching
Lips whisper breaths of renewal together.
Intensity peaks, then subtly subsides
Quietude and repose
But just for the moment.
With sunrise comes the silence of secrets between strangers,
Passing knowingly of each other's existence.
And the remembrance of what just was.

 

February 20

 Hello beautiful world.I hope you are all practicing kindness and gratitude and spreading it all around everywhere.

I have to be honest and say that today is bittersweet- just as it has been for officially 5 years now. Today marks the birthday of absolutely the most beautiful woman I have  ever known. It also marks the 5 year anniversary of her passing, but she would never want us to remember it that way. Still, it is hard not to be saddened by her absence. 

So despite the eye waterfall which is literally taking place as I am writing this, I am going to share a couple funny and wonderful things about her in her honor- because that is what she would want me to do and I would literally have done anything for her just as she would have for me.

So, sit back and enjoy a couple  of my favorite memories with me. There’s so many, but I will save some for next year. Lets start with one that might be my favorite little secret between us…

Tequila…lol. 

One random night when I was in junior high, she pulled out a bottle of jose cuervo gold and put it on her coffee table in the living room. She then placed  on top of it, this miniature black serving tray with little gold and white flowers which had some quartered lemons and a small shaker of salt. Now, the funny thing about this is, that she NEVER allowed anyone to eat or drink ANYTHING in her living room. She poured two shot glasses and handed me one. I was literally shocked. I had never drank before but who was I to refuse such a once in a lifetime offer??? She was letting me drink something in her living room!!lol.She didn't say anything. She just curved her left hand, poured some salt and held a slice of lemon, then looked at me as if to say “your turn”. Of course I did exactly as she did. Then with her right hand, she picked up her full shot glass, looked at me again, so I picked up mine. Then she licked the salt, took the shot, and bit the lemon…. The important thing to note here is that it was a lemon and not a lime. Lol. So, I followed suit. 

I honestly cannot recall how the rest of the evening went, but I know we laughed a whole lot. We never spoke of it again, and I don't think we ever did it again. But, I will never drink tequila with anything other than a lemon- and Im pretty sure, I never told anyone in the family until now. 

Also in junior high, she used to pick me up every day from school. The school I went to seemed to plague myself and my younger siblings with very bad fortune. One day, some random girl I didn't know literally attacked me in the locker hall over a misunderstanding. I ended up getting to Manga’s car a little later than usual and sat inside without saying anything.  She was wearing her usual beautiful smile when she greeted me. When I stayed quiet she looked at me and said “What's wrong, Mija?” I told her what happened and she inhaled sharply putting her hands to her mouth. Tears streamed from her eyes and she turned off her car. “Those Bitches!!!” she shreaked as she went to grab the handle of her car door “where are they??” .I couldn't help but laugh a little as I shook my head and told her “It's okay, Manga.” 

She was so ready to kick whoever’s ass she needed to at the moment. I truly believe she had more balls than I did at that moment and I don't think I ever heard her swear in all my years I knew her.  I guess that's part of where I get my gangster from….

I could go on all day with so many wonderful memories but for now, I will share some of the many things she taught me. I have already mentioned how she taught me how to be a good woman, “wife/partner”, how to cook always from scratch, how to make the perfect thanksgiving dinner, how to swim when I was only a few months old, how to clean-like, REALLY clean, how to drive, and how to drive a stick shift, how to always treat people with kindness, to wear a smile as often as you could, to play cribbage, to give great hand massages, to love unconditionally, and  without knowing it, she taught me to try to be a as beautiful of a person on the inside as she was. 

Not a day goes by that I don't miss her. For a long time, I was going through some very difficult personal times and I didn't reach out to her as much as I should have and a part of me still has regrets that I was not as good of a granddaughter to her in the end as she always was an amazing grandmother to me. And while I cannot change that, I know there was one final lesson she did teach me after she was gone. 

“Love while you still can… and don’t let anyone leave this earth without them knowing how much they mean to you.”

Manga left behind someone very special. Someone who loved, cherished, cared for and adored her for over 50 years. An amazing man, husband, father, great grandfather, and grandfather. So, grandpa, I want you to know how much I love you, and how grateful I am that Manga had you in her life and how grateful I am to have always had you in my life. You gave me my nickname. So in her honor, I am going to bug the hell out of you with my random video chats, and silly facebook posts, drink recipes, and whatever else it takes for you to know how much you are appreciated for the rest of our time together, because there is a HUGE part of her inside me, and the last thing we would ever want is for you to feel like she is missing from your life. 

I love you both so much and I look forward to more memories together- like I said yesterday… you are not done until I am too old to do things!!!

Happy Birthday, Manga.

Exceptional

 Hello beautiful world and a Happy New Year!

Today I would like to dedicate this blog to my grandpa Ron. I wish we could be spending the holidays with you  in person, but know that I am always there with you.

This is for you...

                    Its called "Exceptional"

There’s a unique beauty in this world.

It gives us many reasons to celebrate.

From birthdays, holidays, graduations, love…

And with a few that make absolutely no sense

*like national talk like a pirate day.

…to each their own scurvy way I suppose

Once in a great while,

We are given an exceptional reason to celebrate.

Once in a great while, 

We are given exceptional people to celebrate with.

My world was blessed with two remarkably exceptional people…

And those people have created

nothing less,

Than exceptional things,

Memories,

Traditions,

Values,

They created an exceptional legacy.

Today can be a difficult day of celebration

But we cannot let that overcome us. 

Today we should be filled with gratitude,

But it's easy for us to feel grief.

Too easy.

While today marks your anniversary

A day that celebrates the anniversary of your wedding,

It may feel like you should be celebrating it together.

But…

You still are.

The date is significant, yes,

But what it signifies means so much more

On the day of your wedding, 

You created a life together

A very good life together.

That day created happy

and beautiful homes,

An example to lead by,

A comfort to believe in, 

And more importantly,

One to count on.

That day created a beautiful world, 

Full of swimming,

Flame burgers,

Head banging,

Endless Dancing,

Pate and Brie with green apples

Thanksgiving football games

Lobster and Filet Minon- Med rare of course.

Family game nights and Bingo

Oakland A's Games

Summers stacking cousins in the house like Jenga blocks,

Oh, and sleep depriving noise

of Jenga blocks...

falling on the wood table in the kitchen.

The Sounds,

Sites,

Smells,

Serenity,

All unforgetble.

No part of your union has ever stopped.

Together you have created a never ending,

Forever remembered,

Continuation of the love you shared with each other,

And the love you gave and showed to each and every one of us. 

That is something special to celebrate!

Happy Forever Love Legacy Day!

-From Afar,

         Kitten

And Kudos to you guys for putting up with all of us crazies for so long!--

→But you are partially responsible

WE ALL LOVE YOU SO VERY MUCH!!!!

The Biggest Kid

 Hello world! 

A few posts back I wrote about a piece dedicated to the memory of my grandfather, and how it provided healing and closure for me, and I promised to include it in a future post. So without further ado...

The Biggest Kid

Easing towards the corner, I crept up as stealthily as a giddy seven year girl could possibly muster.  With my nose pressed against the wall, I slid over just enough for one eye to peer down the hall.

Sploooosh!!

Blasted square in the eye by the most heinous streams of water.  Through the pain and the flooded eyeball I could see him. Still standing there with the giant “Rambo” water bazooka held up to his face, and only his giant smile was visible.

“Hehehehehe” He giggled mischievously then dashed behind the wall still chuckling at the perfect shot.

“Time-out!!!” I yelled sternly

“No time-outs!” he returned disappointedly from behind the cover of the kitchen wall.

There he stood, like I will always remember him- looking goofy and wild eyed behind his Jerry Lewis glasses.  Fitted in his three piece black suit, dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, and a pair of black Stacy Adams shoes.  Not a day went by that I ever saw him wearing anything less than a suit. He was half grinning with his Rambo gun down at his side.

Seeing him with his guard down I quickly lifted my AR-51 assault water rifle, pulled the trigger and laughed hysterically as it pumped water in quick powerful bursts right into his  chest.

His giggle returned as he retreated once again towards the kitchen and called me a "jerk".

I could hear him creeping around the other side of the wall trying to sneak up on me. Very quietly I approached the rest of his guns, climbing up the trunk and slowly pulling the last machine gun off the wall,  placing the strap around my neck and shoulders.

Suddenly there was a loud thump, then a chuckle followed by the sound of water blasting, then a scream…

“Dad!!” 

Leaping from the trunk with the gun still on my shoulder, towards the end of the hallway, I came upon  a sight like no other. The walls were drenched with water. Droplets fell from the ceiling- and in the middle of it, my mom, soaked from chest down with her hair sticking to her neck and face, fuming.

Every breath in my lungs escaped me as I rolled on the floor laughing uncontrollably.  My grandpa just stood there like a child about to be in big trouble. 

We spent almost every Easter with my mom’s dad, “Grandpa Tito” is what we called him. We would go to this huge  park near San Francisco and have a big family picnic.  My mom would always dress me and my sister in these frilly white dresses with leggings and little white fancy shoes. She’d put our hair in perfect curls and tried to match our outfits as closely as possible. I was a tomboy and hated every minute of it.  At least until we got to the park.  

Within minutes of arriving my sister and I would lay on the grass and roll down this huge hill towards the picnic tables. 

“Do you see what they are doing?” exclaimed my mom to my dad.

“ I thought your dad was supposed to be watching them!”

Oh, he was. He always had his blind eyes on us. But not quite the way one would think.

 Not too far behind my sister, was my grandpa, with his hands above his head, barrel rolling down the hill just like we were. My dad would just smile in his biggest grin and laugh it off. 

“At least you already took some pictures.” 

 My mom didn't find it quite as funny.

                                                      ******

This is the way I will always remember my grandfather. The biggest kid of all. He loved us so much and he simply adored my mother. She was his everything. No matter what was going on in our lives, he was always there to take care of us. He helped with bills when times were tough, and made sure we had what we needed. On top of that, growing up with him was a lot of fun.

When I got older, I left my home town to pursue my career and started a family. I rarely came home to visit and often wasn't able to be present for many of the get-togethers. It was really hard on my family not seeing me,especially my grandfather. It caused a great deal of distance between us and our relationship was never quite what it used to be. At one point, I did return home. My grandfather was having trouble living by himself so I moved in to help take care of him, and to take some of the responsibility off my mom who was overwhelmed with everything, and under a lot of stress from the demand.  

For years I had told my husband about how wonderful my grandfather was- the fun we had and how he was always so good to us.  Unfortunately, the man I was now living with, no longer resembled the man I always spoke so highly of.  He was demanding, disrespectful, inconsiderate, angry and impossible to please. Still, I took care of him. I was patient with him, and treated him with the respect I felt he had earned while I was growing up.  But that wasn’t what he wanted.  I don’t think he even knew what he wanted.  Living with him became almost impossible. 

When he was being his most difficult, I just closed my eyes and reminded myself of the “grandpa” I always knew. He was still there inside of him, and there were moments when he knew it too. I think sometimes he did the same- tried to remind himself of the “grandpa” he used to be. Occasionally we shared the relationship we once knew, but those times got fewer and farther apart. We both knew things would never be the same, but all of me, and a part of him, still held on to those memories. 

Tensions rose between us, and I ended up moving out of his place. It’s not that I left on bad terms, but they were not pleasant either. Not for any other reasons other than circumstances, I didn't see or talk to him for several months after that. I never needed to ask how he was doing because my mom always offered it within the frustrated conversations about him when she returned from visiting him.  It was obvious things were not getting any better.

Looking back, I feel a bit regretful that I didn't realize what was going on. Having been a nurse prior to this, I should have recognized what his mannerisms and actions were demonstrating. My grandfather was beginning to show signs of dementia.  While he has always been a stubborn old mule, the dementia only amplified his obstinence, and added other “undesirable” attitudes towards those around him. In a clinical setting, it may have been easier to detect with those patients whose mental stability began to decline.  But when it happens to a loved one, you tend to take their behaviors personally and torture yourself with the question of “why are they being this way to me?” You don’t want to blame them, although it is too easy not to when it often feels like you are the target of their anger and frustrations. The truth is, they are dealing with much more than just wondering why they are being a certain way.  They are dealing with getting older and less independent, memory loss, grief from losing all of their friends to old age as well, the realization of how close death may actually be, the fear of what will happen to their loved ones when they are gone, and their overall health at the time. Those with dementia have all those fears, but often do not know how to deal with them on top of the emotional distress that comes with it. All of this can be overwhelming, and often causes them to lash out for what we may consider the tiniest of things. More than likely this is what was going on with my grandfather

Not too long after I moved out of his place, I moved out of state. But before this, I did see my grandfather one more time. It had been a few months since we last spoke, but he had come to visit my mom like he did every day, and I just happened to be there. When he left, I walked him to his car and helped him get in. I kissed him on the cheek, gave him a hug and told him that I loved him.  

That was the last time I ever saw or spoke to my grandpa. He passed away about a year later. It still pains me that I couldn’t attend his funeral. I tried everything in my power to make the trip but I was in no position to do so.  I picture him wearing the gleaming white three piece zoot suit with the gold dress shirt and matching handkerchief I had chosen for him. He wouldn’t have wanted to be buried any other way.  I had always been the one picking out his suits and dressing him to the nines.  It was a funny bond we shared,  that I knew exactly how he wanted to look, and he was always grateful for that. 

 I couldn't be more grateful for every good time we shared, and that I was given the opportunity to make things right between us-despite how unsuccessful it seemed at the time, at least I can say I honestly tried. Mostly I am grateful that I don't regret the last words I ever said to him. I told him exactly what my heart needed him to know and I hope he remembered those as my last words as well.

Reflection

Missing his funeral was one of the hardest parts of losing him. One would normally expect me to be the first one there and the last to leave, but never to not be there at all. I wasn’t there to honor his life, after his death, and it’s something I thought would haunt me for the rest of my life…until today

 This piece is in honor of him. In honor of the wonderful man he always was by loving his family so unselfishly, with such laughter, good times. In honor of the very strange, although well intended things he taught me, all the weddings and parties we used to swing dance together, and all of our long walks and short trolly rides. I write this to finally honor all of the things I didn't get to say at his funeral, and many of the  wonderful  things I hope he knows that I loved so much about him.