I have been thinking about all the ladies in my life. Yeah, I know I sound like a player. Seriously though, I feel blessed to have you all in my life.
Women who want more and encourage me to want more too. So I am going to point you all out- ha!
In no particular order:
Stephanie- I am so proud of you. You have no idea how happy I am that you can finally see all the potential you have. Everyone else has known it but you and it is about time you realize it. I know from personal experience how easy it is to let other people bring you down and how hard it is to bring yourself back up. But I have no doubt that you will do this and be successful! Your smart, funny, silly, crazy, independent and beautiful- what is stopping you? Nothing but yourself. And now that your out of your own way- watch out world! I promise to keep being your cheerleader, you deserve it.
Alissa- Oh my dearest Alissa. You are a child of God and His light shines through you. All of His living things gravitate to your goodness. I don't know what I did to deserve you but I thank God for letting me have you in my life. You are my rock and I love you dearly.
Candy- My first friend at school- and my best one too. Strange how we have been put into each other's lives. Similar paths, similar journeys. And I agree it is creepy and comforting at the same time. Maybe God wants us to know we are not alone- that there is someone else who knows what we know, has seen what we have seen and has felt what we have felt. Either way I'm glad we met and I think we will be friends for a long time to come.
Laurene- Double L where to begin? First lesson you taught me- do not judge so easily. I am so glad that you ended up next to me. I never thought we would become friends and so quickly. You are my silly partner in crime, my daily comic relief and my words of wisdom. I think we will have some adventures soon enough.
Amanda- I miss you terribly but am so pleased at the woman you have become. Your smart, funny and absolutely gorgeous. I am immensely jealous of you but love you even more. Sisters not cousins. I hope to see you soon.
That is all for now,
-K
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Being Poor and Orange Popsicles in Summer
I got lost in a memory today. The kind that are so vivid that you are living it again- just as it was when it happened.
It was summer time and I was outside playing in the yard. It was a really hot day and my hands were sticky with orange Popsicle drippings. I was wearing a faded cotton dress with rainbow pastel stripes and tennis shoes two sizes too big. I didn't have any shoes so I wore my cousin's hand-me-downs. I remember they kept falling off as I ran through the dry crunchy grass. I was going to kick them off when Mom wasn't looking anyway-so it didn't bother me much. I was running to my tire swing. A big black semi tire that was tied with old tow rope to a massive weeping willow tree. I was spinning around and around. My head was hanging back and the willow branches looked like long tentacles all around me. The tire smelled of wet, rotting rubber. It was hot on my legs. I could feel the little black hairs of the tire rubbing against the back of my thighs. My fingers were still sticky but my palms were rough from rubbing the old rope. The cicada's song was humming in my ears as the branches creaked with my spinning. I heard Tommy call my name but I just kept spinning- I didn't want to play with broken GI Joe's. I just wanted to be with my willow tree. I could hear my Mom singing Hank Williams songs as she washed our laundry in the kitchen sink. We didn't have a washer and dryer and going to the laundry mat was not an option. We were poor- dirt poor and I knew it. It seemed like we spent years in that farmhouse- but it was only a summer. I guess this is how I remember being poor and eating Popsicles in summer.
The house was old and smelled of rotting wood. Mom always kept a window open- we needed fresh air she said. That house made the strangest noises at night. When my brother and I would sleep in the attic- we could hear the house moan below us. We would snuggle up closer on our old mattress on the floor. No sheets- just two pillows and a blanket. Oh, the stories we would whisper in each other's ear. Mom was usually working and all our cousins slept on the second floor. So, me and Tommy could talk late into the night without being heard. We would talk about how much we missed Grandma and Poppy. We would make up silly ghost stories about that old house or pretend we were living in some strange land. Sometimes though, we would just cry ourselves to sleep. I remember singing him lullabies and rubbing his back. I wonder if he thinks of those nights.
I remember when they bull dozed that old house-full of summer memories. See- that house was supposed to be condemned but my Mom was able to convince the farmer to let her and the nine of us to stay there just for the summer or at least until she found another place. And by fall Mom couldn't take care of us anymore and we were back at Grandma and Poppy's to start school. One weekend she came and picked us up. She told us that she had to leave the farmhouse and that she was staying at Grandma's house. But that we could drive by and see what was left. We drove down the long overgrown rock driveway to see a large pile of wood. That was all that was left. Just piles of wood, garbage and some old cars. My tire swing had been cut down and put on the roof of one of the old cars. We started to walk around the yard- looking at all the rumble. I noticed that my willow tree had a big red X painted on the trunk. I asked Mom what it meant. She told me that they were going to cut it down. But why would they cut down my tree? My beautiful weeping willow tree! She didn't have an answer and she said it was time to get going. We got in the car and backed down the long driveway, leaving to go to Grandma's house. That was the last time I saw my willow tree. Looking back now, I think Mom hoped that if we saw that the house was gone- then maybe we would let go of all that had happened in it. But memories have a way of returning. They always come back. You smell something that takes you back to a place or event. You see a familiar thing that reminds you of something that you just can't quite remember- and then there it is! The memory is in full view and you are in it again. Smelling, hearing, touching. Nothing is ever really lost inside- just hidden.
There's a gas station and a Dairy Queen where my farmhouse used to be. You would never know that there once was an old house full of people living there. Every time I drive past-I slow down and I remember that summer and all my spinning.
It was summer time and I was outside playing in the yard. It was a really hot day and my hands were sticky with orange Popsicle drippings. I was wearing a faded cotton dress with rainbow pastel stripes and tennis shoes two sizes too big. I didn't have any shoes so I wore my cousin's hand-me-downs. I remember they kept falling off as I ran through the dry crunchy grass. I was going to kick them off when Mom wasn't looking anyway-so it didn't bother me much. I was running to my tire swing. A big black semi tire that was tied with old tow rope to a massive weeping willow tree. I was spinning around and around. My head was hanging back and the willow branches looked like long tentacles all around me. The tire smelled of wet, rotting rubber. It was hot on my legs. I could feel the little black hairs of the tire rubbing against the back of my thighs. My fingers were still sticky but my palms were rough from rubbing the old rope. The cicada's song was humming in my ears as the branches creaked with my spinning. I heard Tommy call my name but I just kept spinning- I didn't want to play with broken GI Joe's. I just wanted to be with my willow tree. I could hear my Mom singing Hank Williams songs as she washed our laundry in the kitchen sink. We didn't have a washer and dryer and going to the laundry mat was not an option. We were poor- dirt poor and I knew it. It seemed like we spent years in that farmhouse- but it was only a summer. I guess this is how I remember being poor and eating Popsicles in summer.
The house was old and smelled of rotting wood. Mom always kept a window open- we needed fresh air she said. That house made the strangest noises at night. When my brother and I would sleep in the attic- we could hear the house moan below us. We would snuggle up closer on our old mattress on the floor. No sheets- just two pillows and a blanket. Oh, the stories we would whisper in each other's ear. Mom was usually working and all our cousins slept on the second floor. So, me and Tommy could talk late into the night without being heard. We would talk about how much we missed Grandma and Poppy. We would make up silly ghost stories about that old house or pretend we were living in some strange land. Sometimes though, we would just cry ourselves to sleep. I remember singing him lullabies and rubbing his back. I wonder if he thinks of those nights.
I remember when they bull dozed that old house-full of summer memories. See- that house was supposed to be condemned but my Mom was able to convince the farmer to let her and the nine of us to stay there just for the summer or at least until she found another place. And by fall Mom couldn't take care of us anymore and we were back at Grandma and Poppy's to start school. One weekend she came and picked us up. She told us that she had to leave the farmhouse and that she was staying at Grandma's house. But that we could drive by and see what was left. We drove down the long overgrown rock driveway to see a large pile of wood. That was all that was left. Just piles of wood, garbage and some old cars. My tire swing had been cut down and put on the roof of one of the old cars. We started to walk around the yard- looking at all the rumble. I noticed that my willow tree had a big red X painted on the trunk. I asked Mom what it meant. She told me that they were going to cut it down. But why would they cut down my tree? My beautiful weeping willow tree! She didn't have an answer and she said it was time to get going. We got in the car and backed down the long driveway, leaving to go to Grandma's house. That was the last time I saw my willow tree. Looking back now, I think Mom hoped that if we saw that the house was gone- then maybe we would let go of all that had happened in it. But memories have a way of returning. They always come back. You smell something that takes you back to a place or event. You see a familiar thing that reminds you of something that you just can't quite remember- and then there it is! The memory is in full view and you are in it again. Smelling, hearing, touching. Nothing is ever really lost inside- just hidden.
There's a gas station and a Dairy Queen where my farmhouse used to be. You would never know that there once was an old house full of people living there. Every time I drive past-I slow down and I remember that summer and all my spinning.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Daddy's Girl
Today I am having one of those I miss my Dad days. But not my dad- more like the idea of what I wish my Dad was like. For some reason the lost little girl inside me is out and about missing her Daddy. I was driving to work today wishing I had that ideal father in my life. You know, the one man who will never let you down, the one man in a girls life that will love her unconditionally. I thought that if I prayed to God maybe He would be the father I wanted. But as most of us know- just because you pray doesn't mean it happens or at least when or how you want it to. It seems my relationships with both my father's are like every other relationship in my life: emotional and messy. These thoughts make me think of my friend Jenni. Jenni, I hope you read this because for some reason I think you will have some answers for me. I think you can tell me how to reconnect- at least in the spiritual sense. I have a little sister who, I am ashamed to say, I am extremely envious of. When I do visit my Dad there are pictures all over the house of them together- at girl scouts, daddy/daughter dances- whatever it is. It makes me happy and sad at the same time. Happy my sister has the Dad I wanted and sad that I don't have my own pictures and memories to share.
I think it is strange that this is all surfacing for me at once. My Dad and my faith somehow are intertwining and I am not sure why. Well, I have some sort of idea. My real life father failed me so I guess I feel no need to try with my Heavenly one. I am on a new mission of self discovery. I can't just pretend things are ok or want so badly for things to be perfect that I pretend they are.
I had to start a blog for a class and it got me thinking that maybe starting a personal one would be beneficial to me. Especially since I like to hide my problems or feelings or whatever you want to call them. So, I suppose I am reaching out to some old and some new friends for some advice and encouragement. Because even though I hate admitting it- I do not know everything, I am not always right and I get lost sometimes too.
Ok, friends- this is the first issue at hand. Let me know what you think.
-K
I think it is strange that this is all surfacing for me at once. My Dad and my faith somehow are intertwining and I am not sure why. Well, I have some sort of idea. My real life father failed me so I guess I feel no need to try with my Heavenly one. I am on a new mission of self discovery. I can't just pretend things are ok or want so badly for things to be perfect that I pretend they are.
I had to start a blog for a class and it got me thinking that maybe starting a personal one would be beneficial to me. Especially since I like to hide my problems or feelings or whatever you want to call them. So, I suppose I am reaching out to some old and some new friends for some advice and encouragement. Because even though I hate admitting it- I do not know everything, I am not always right and I get lost sometimes too.
Ok, friends- this is the first issue at hand. Let me know what you think.
-K
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