479 Days with central air

It feels closer to 11pm than 8.  The days are noticeably shorter and the nights are considerably colder.  Its not cold enough to put away the flip flops yet but I smell Thanksgiving in the night air.  The house is quiet.

On August 1, 1999 I made a promise to myself to do one thing every day that scared me.  I had spent my entire life up to that point following the rules and playing it safe and on that day I realized how stupid that was.  I made this promise with a stomach full of nothing more than a half dozen or so White Russians.  I made it quietly and without words or even acknowledgement of the room full of friends and family talking around me. 

My father died that morning.  He died with a heart full of "what ifs" and "I wishes" three days before his 59th birthday. 

The months that followed included a wide variety of activities that I did for the sake of "it scared me" or more so, the ideas of them made me very comfortable.  I pierced my tongue, twice.  I got my first (of many) tattoos.  I talked to complete strangers and went to bars and clubs that I'd never considered visiting in the past and took some crazy road trips.  It was all little stuff but at the time, and for the person I was, it was a string of big stuff squeezed into a short period of time.  Not much scares me anymore and when something does I reach back to that promise and go for it.  Life's a little boring from time to time without the internal struggles with fear.  My anxiety and panic issues are nearly gone.  My biggest adventures are just another day but in a wonderful way.  I continue to make things up as I go along and I barely plan anything, including my wedding day.

People always ask how we met, my husband and I.  I usually laugh and say simply, Facebook.  Facebook, the ridiculous social media site where too many people say too many things they shouldn't say in a public forum and the rest of the folks post silly and stupid memes and animal videos.  Most days I resent it for the negative and political crap I see scrolling through.  Yet, I still go everyday to check up on friends now hundreds of miles away. 

I tend to be a smartass and on this particular day, I was being just that on a friend’s post.  Never once did I think that the crap I was spewing would grab the attention of a man who would be intrigued enough to want to talk to me.  He friended me, sat quiet for a few days, and then poked me, repeatedly.  His interest was piqued enough via FB messages that within a few days we were on the phone.  Those conversations lasted hours and many hours of sleep were lost in getting to know each other.  A week after the first phone call he boarded a plane to meet me in person. 

I’m not entirely sure why I agreed to let someone I had never met stay in my apartment with me.  I lived alone and my neighbors weren’t the type of people I could go to if there was a problem. He flew in on a Monday night and waited at the airport over an hour until I finished work and drove down to pick him up.  It was late February and clear and dry out.  We had an easy winter that year, little snow, and it was cold but not bitterly so that week.  After a second pass around PHL, I saw him standing alone by the wrong airline pickup, backpack in hand, heavy leather jacket and knit cap on, smoking a cigarette.

The next six days flew by.  It was the typical courting dance with all-night conversations, laughing til our sides hurt, wine and beer, music, and countless Primos Milano hoagies.  I do miss those hoagies, roasted red peppers and fresh mozzarella on a fresh roll.  Even better was that it was a block from my apartment and I would come home from work to find a glass of wine poured and that hoagie on the kitchen table waiting.  He quickly learned the way to my heart was through my stomach! 

There really is nothing extraordinary to our story.  The timing was just right.  We were engaged three and a half months after meeting and married another five months after that.  It hasn’t always been easy but I don’t regret a thing.  I suppose that whole scenario should have scared me more than it did.  Sometimes I feel like I got to the point where fear bored me.  Its a waste of energy and time.  And there’s never enough time. 

It has now been just over 14 years since I made that promise to myself.  I cannot think of a thing I regret doing or not doing.  Although I call on that promise less these days, its still there when I need it and I can’t wait to see what I need it for next. 

Today

Yesterday was a bad day.

Today may have been a little worse but they are both over.  Now it's time to clean up what we can.

A wonderful woman, and friend, lost her battle with cancer today.  My heart breaks a little more every time I think about it.  That's the nature of losing loved ones. 


Two years ago I took myself on a little road trip adventure.  A friend had moved 500 miles south and I decided to go for a visit.  My week long trip turned into ten days and ten days turned into two weeks before I finally headed north again.  I stopped in College Park, MD to visit my cousins on my way home.  Many a get-away was spent in their cute little house on the dead end street a stones throw from the college campus.  I would sleep on the daybed that was as soft as clouds and smelled like fresh linen.  We would drink coffee lazily in the morning and venture out into the world around noon.  I adored those visits.

This particular trip found me arriving at their door after 8 hours in the car.  No surprise with DC traffic and an accidentally missed exit taking me through the center of the city.  Still, I felt rejuvenated after the vacation and car ride.  I washed up and took my prim and proper little cousin to a biker bar.

I had a few other friends in the area as well and tried making my rounds as often as possible when in town.  We met up with one friend at the bar.  It was one of his favorite watering holes.  There was live music that night and a 16 year old kid from France visiting and sitting in on guitar.  I was told on more than one occasion that I had to hear this kid play. 

Immediately after walking into the bar, a delightful 73 year old biker turned and catcalled ever so politely. My friend laughed and introduced me to Papi, one of his riding buddies.  Sweet and funny and just wanting some company.  "Not THAT kind of company," he said.  Just someone to talk to and go out and eat with.  Because I was "just so pretty and nice and laidback." 

His wife had passed 8 months prior and he just didn't want to go on living without her.  But "the good Lord obviously isn't ready to let me go," so he needed to "make the most of biding my time until I can be with her again." 

My cousin was smitten and certain I should befriend Papi and go on great adventures together.  We listened to music, drank a few beers, ate some food, and had a good time.  At the end of the night he showed us his bike.  "The Cadillac" of trikes, fully loaded and beautiful.  Next time I was in town I was to let him know and we'd go for a ride.

I never made it back for that visit.  Several months ago I got the news that he had passed.  He was finally back with his wife.  He was finally at peace and happy again. 

Today's passing was a much younger woman.  One no one was ready to say goodbye to.  I've known her for 34 years.  I've gone through school with her kids and as an adult worked with her and her kids in various projects putting on shows at our local schools and in a charity organization. 

She was always there with a smile, a hug, a little silk rose before opening night.  We'd go out for drinks after shows or just hang out at the pool.  She was a beautiful woman who left an impact on everyone who knew her.  She suffered immensely this past year.  I will miss her greatly but am happy she is no longer in pain.

We nearly also saw the end to something else less human but with a life of it's own this weekend.  Tongues can be sharp when paired with thoughtlessness.  Allow ego and self centeredness to join in and you have a perfect storm.  I can't say we all made it out of this one unscathed but we are out of it.  Commitments will be fulfilled.  Then things can end on our terms. 

Wouldn't it be nice if all things could end on our own terms? 
 

Once

I'm still a little jumpy when I hear an odd little noise on the other side of the room or think I see a shadow on the wall somewhere.  I always expect to see a giant roach running by or a mouse scurrying along the edge of the room.  It's still strange to lie in bed and not hear the scratching and running of mice behind the wood paneling that's no longer next to my head.  Change was in the air.  I had been saying it for nearly a year but I still wasn't prepared for what happened.  I wished for it on a hundred stars and still wasn't ready when it happened. 

I had a best friend once.  The greatest best friend ever for 20 years or so.  From piggyback rides through the halls of high school and late night mischief all over town to college and back.  By the time we were adults and back in our hometown we'd meet weekly for late night coffee sometimes talking until the sun was coming up. 

I'm not sure how long it's been.  He's married now.  So am I.  He always did get sucked into relationships, not calling or hanging out for months at a time.  Months have turned into years.  3, maybe 4 by now.  I'm pretty sure he's lost forever, with the others.

Change and I don't get along very well.  We never really have.  I prefer Time to Change.  It's easier for me to work with.  Plus, I can lie about Time.  I certainly cannot ignore Change.  Though I can close my eyes and ears and pretend for a few short minutes that everything is still the same.  That does as much good as lying about Time.

There's a kid here.  A fiery compact package of everything a singer-songwriter should be.  Every time I see him I'm taken back to Rhawnhurst on a January day 2008ish.  We played hooky and sat in the old man bar on Verree Road all afternoon.  Joe sat between us covering his toothless mouth while he told all his best stories.  "There's not enough time.  All you can do is love."  We walked out of the bar around 4 pm to the city streets carpeted with a lightly falling cinnamon snow. 

I wonder if tomorrow's snow will smell of cinnamon.

Tonight I spent some time with an old mutual friend.  It's been a while since I've heard some of her stories and they warmed my insides.  It's exactly what I needed to recenter my Self.  Hopefully it's exactly what I needed to climb into bed and sleep soundly.