Turkey Day...

I hope everyone had a terrific Thanksgiving! Q couldn't get home as he was just transferred from Ft. Benning to Ft. Bliss. In the interim, he was able to return home to see Mom before she passed. Fortunately, his commanding officer approved a few days off post, so I drove out to see him in El Paso. We had an unconventional Turkey Day and ate our meal at a Mexican restaurant near the border. We ate enmoladas (similar to enchiladas) and drank margaritas. What a memorable day! I'll return home Saturday knowing Q. is in the right place for this point in his life--challenged, happy, growing in all ways. And honestly, I think I am too.

My life is fluid at present. Fluidity is not a bad thing; however, it can be an anxious thing. I currently do not know where Q. will be deployed as he’s now been assigned to be a combat engineer. Stateside in Texas or Missouri or overseas in Poland or Korea. Fortunately he is happy about being chosen as a combat engineer. It will involve additional training but provide him more transferable skills should he chose to separate from the Army in 2 years.

I drove Q. to DFW airport yesterday at 3am. His flight to El Paso leaving at 10:20pm had been cancelled the night before, so we drove home from the airport and waited. Q. got on his flight the next morning. He is now is processing as he missed much of it to return home to Mom’s funeral.

Fluidity: I am not certain where I’ll live in the next year. Portugal, Washington state with my dear friend whom I've know for 50 years and is my true sister. Or will I relocate to El Paso to buy a house and provide a home base for Q?

Fluidity in my career. I was offered a full-time position with the EAP but am negotiating salary at present. I am working 60 hours per week as I’m balancing this position with the local nonprofit. Should I take the fulltime position at 40 hours per week or should I divide my time between the two and work 60 hours per week?

Fluidity. The good thing is that at the end of the day I can shut it down. I put it out to the Universe when I go to bed. I know that ultimately all will be as it should be. The thing is, every thing changes. People and places depending on how much you need you need them, and, more importantly how much they need you.

It's a strange thing, dementia...

We lost Mom Saturday night after a long bout with vascular dementia. It's a strange thing, dementia. It robs a person of their memory which is, ultimately, their identify. One's life is made up of moments which are filed away. These memories are like photographs one retrieves to frame a life well lived. When one is robbed of their memory, one loses who they were, who they are. I am thankful that I had a mother, but I am equally thankful that she is no longer impacted this disease which robs one of their dignity.

Soldiers, Parents, Men...

It was 10:45 last night (15 minutes before my shift ended). I was tired. A father called about his son who had just been discharged from the military at 25 years old. He said his son was “lost” and was dealing with it by drinking excessively. I was able to assist this father by locating a therapist who specialized in alcohol treatment. We talked about our own experiences in the military. This man had served for 20 years as a Marine Infantry officer. I cannot imagine the things he had experienced; what he saw over those 20 years. We had very different experiences as soldiers. I served in the Army for a short time as a behavioral science specialist and sat behind a desk. Despite this, we were able to talk. We had the commonality of being veterans, and forever soldiers. Equally important we were parents of sons whom we loved without question.

After completing our session this seemingly tough, gruff former Marine became silent. He actually broke down and sobbed, saying that a parent never stops worrying about their child, no matter what the age. He apologized for “bothering” me. I told him that everything would be all right no matter what. I felt that at that this military man, this soldier/Dad needed hope. I told him that his son knows he is loved and that is the important thing. I told him I knew this, inherently, as I have a son myself who is the same age and is an Infantry man. Guys at that age push the limits to grow, and hopefully, ultimately, become men. Real men that are strong and true. He thanked me and we ended the call. Late last night and all day today I was struck how touched I was. I felt I had the opportunity, in some way, to help this man and his son. These unexpected connections are what make life worth while. Life is good.

Who is that handsome young man?

I saw my mom today. She is in memory care as she has

vascular dementia.  I showed her a picture of she and my dad

when they first got engaged.  She asked me "Who is that handsome

young man?"  It struck me that how short life can be. I miss my

mom the way she was, but must love her the way she is.

Therein lies the blessing...

When the stars align and your path becomes clear, 

therein lies the blessing.

My travels, how beautiful…

Several times I have been asked why I travel.  I think, down deep, it is as much as seeing is to experience these things.  I remember standing in Vernazza in Cirque Terre, Italy.  I woke up at dawn as I wanted to experience the sunrise over the Ligurian Sea.  It was exquisite.  There were rocks emanating from the shoreline.  I am sure these rocks were hundreds, if not thousands of years old. They will remain so long after I am gone. The sunset over the horizon in Alfama district in Lisbon.  It is the only neighborhood that remained after the earthquake that devasted this city in in 1755. That tabby cat that walked over to me with the silver bell on its neck. She lovingly licked my hand as my son and I sat while taking a break while trekking up the Rock of Gibraltar. So many experiences and memories that I cannot list them.  Later in life, when I reach a certain age, my travels may be limited due to physical decline. I will hold these memories close to me.   Experiences that I will forever treasure and will reach for, lovingly, gently.  These will always remain the photographs of my life.

One hundred and two minutes….

It is Wednesday. A day in which I do the usual catching up on things which have fallen to the wayside during a busy week (another one, which is always the case). Since my son has gone into the military 7 months ago, I find myself filling my life with meaningful work (to me, at least).  The money is welcomed but is not the reason I sometimes work at a frenzied pace.  My dear friend recently told me that one must have a purpose.  Now that my son has launched, this single parent rediscovered her (at least one) purpose.  I work part time with an EAP in which my primary focus is on veterans and part time as a geriatric social worker whose role it is to connect low income seniors with resources in their community. The work keeps me busy and refocuses my attention away from myself and my concerns about my son serving in the military in this sometimes absurdly chaotic world. Lastly (and not in an order), it keeps my mind off my mother who has vascular dementia.

This writing is intended to focus upon her (and admittedly my interaction with her today). I stopped by the facility in which she has lived for nearly 2 years. She has been moved to assisted living to memory care due to her declining memory.  Before entering the building, I found the access code which I needed to enter the unit.  As I did so (always carefully, quietly) I discovered my mother in a group of ten women reminiscing. I felt intuitively that I needed to stay back.  I wanted to listen to these women talk about what was their lives (and I hoped, what is their lives). After a bit of time, my mother turned her head and saw me sitting on a sofa in the corner.  She smiled and asked me what I was doing there. Mom remembered my name and asked me how I was.  I asked her how she was and how she felt today.  She replied, “I’ve been here one hundred and two minutes. I think it will be okay.”  I’ll take that one hundred and two minutes from Mom.  And I do think (in her own way) she will be okay.

I think of it as a blessing...

I've always been candid about being diagnosed with bipolar disorder several years ago. I am an advocate for people who have experienced this and know that living a life full of love and happiness is possible.

Being bipolar is not who I am and it does not define me. It is, however, a part of what makes me unique. It makes me, me. Some people think of it as a curse. I think of it as a blessing.

https://psychcentral.com/blog/top-ten-terrific-things-about-bipolar-disorder/?fbclid=IwAR1wBWlS6iP0cKlCDbwB0UrHtWTXvpvJaEz4PaK14DrRkHHJHB39Mszz4lo

It would be a beautiful life...

I could choose to stay home, drink rose and watch "Remains of the Day".

It would be a beautiful life, but it is not what I am destined to do.

Please wait for me Portugal...

Please wait for me Portugal. 

I promise I will find my way back to you.

One foot...

I have one foot in the present.  

I have one foot in the future.

Waiting...

As I sit here this night I have realized that I have spent much my adult life waiting.

Waiting to have that picture-perfect family.

Waiting for that first marriage to steady from my then husband’s alcoholism; from the chaos that ensured.

Waiting after the first year of a second marriage, to get out of that tireless and toxic relationship.

Waiting to move to Portugal: to my home.

Waiting has been filled with many things: raising and loving an only child; losing my parents (one to leukemia and one to dementia).

Waiting to ultimately find myself.

Waiting has at times been tedious, yet at the same time still, depending on the day.

We all wait, I suppose, for different things.  Hopefully though, in the end, those still periods will be worth the wait.

Thank you, Robert Frost...

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood

And sorry I could not travel both 

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth; 

Then took the other, as just as fair

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that, the passing there

Had worn them really about the same, 

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back. 

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference. 

That's the deal...

I sometimes think that I should write and describe my experiences after my breakdown in third person. It seems easier, somehow, to see myself at a distance; to act as an observer outside of myself. I think it makes it safer for others to see what may be a deeply buried part of themselves. This is how I/she experiences her life now, as if on a tightrope, even though it's been 10 years since her breakdown.  Since she came undone. So, this is how it would go...

"She continues to feel fragile, though. She continues to guard a sensitive, fluid center. Sometimes, loud noises make her heart race--someone speaking her name without warning, or the telephone ringing late at night. Then she will take herself in hand. She will remind herself to draw back, to loosen hold. She has learned how to make it through life on a slant. "You've changed," her friend has said (all intensity himself)."

I think that's the thing about what we call a breakdown. You are always acutely of aware and remember this crack, this fissure that has occurred. It's like that hole in your gum after you lose a tooth.  You know you shouldn't keep touching it, but somehow you must, just to remind yourself it was once there. You are aware that the propensity for this fissure to widen is still there. At times, you feel that fissure stretching out and there's that need to hold on tight. You feel you must fight and be strong enough to keep that fissure from expanding to the point where it may break.

There is a nascent fear that is under that façade of normalcy. The psychiatrist refers to you as his "success story." He even questions whether your diagnosis is correct. He says that maybe you don't have a mental illness; that the diagnosis of bipolar disorder was somehow a mistake. Yet you know the truth.  You remember that time when your mind was not your own. Because of this experience, this time of unraveling, you take your medication daily even though it sometimes blurs life's edges. It's the price you pay for never returning to this dark place. It's just the price you must pay. You felt the pain then so you can feel the happiness now. That's the deal.

Choices...

I have been dealing lately with my son’s launching into his adult life. The thing I have had to accept is that my choices for him may not be his. I had a certain path mapped out for him. The truth is, however, there is no right or wrong path. I have realized that my job is to just love and support him, no matter what his choices. As a parent, that’s the deal.

Circle of trust...

I am very grateful for those friends and family who I consider to be in my circle of trust. Admittedly, I don't let many people in. I hold my cards pretty close to the vest. The thing is that these people understand my frame of reference. There is no pretense or puffing up of ego; no agenda. They are authentic and genuine. They "get me" and I do fervently hope that I I reciprocate in kind.

For some reason...

For some reason I find that I am quite emotional tonight.

I find that my eyes are leaking.

Blessings are interwoven into the fabric of our lives...

Made it to Columbus, Georgia to go to Ft. Benning tomorrow morning. Arose at 3 am. My brother and sis-in-law were kind enough to watch Sadie & Todd. They also dropped me off at the airport at 6 am. When my plane finally landed in Atlanta, we waited 3 1/2 hours on the tarmac for an available gate. Took the MARTA to get my luggage and then to rent a car. Drove 90 miles to my destination, but I arrived safe and sound. I find myself quite tired yet quite grateful. Blessings are interwoven into the fabric of our lives.

Transitions...

Am flying out tomorrow to spend the weekend at Fort Benning, Georgia (“the Sandbox”) with Q as it is family day/weekend.  Over the years I have witnessed him grow from child, to adolescent, to young adult to a man.  Q. reminds me so much of my Dad and my Grandpa Reed. He has evolved into what I think a man should be; strong and true yet gentle and kind.

A fierce and beautiful woman...

It took me 56 years to look in the mirror and say

 to myself, "You are a fierce and beautiful woman."

I am a fierce and beautiful woman.

The narrative of your life...

When you step out of that comfort zone and experience people, places

and things different from you, it will change the narrative of your life.

The universe has your back...

This is not by coincidence...

On rare occasions, the universe guides you to meet someone in your life who makes a true impact. An impact which will change your life. For me, I met one of these people in a smallish laundromat in Florence, Italy. I met Carol Dao while we were both waiting to do our laundry. She was leaving the next day for Chianti, Italy to complete her book; Q. and I had just arrived. We sat there, waiting and talking. I realized that she was put there for a reason. After I had completed my laundry, I was struck by her strength. She had left California with one suitcase, following her dream living in Italy. She shared that despite growing up in an affluent family in Orange County, California she left an executive position and followed her dream. I admired her strength to do so and I admired her wisdom and insight into life.

Over the next year I found thinking about this seemingly random meeting. I was in a cross roads in my life. My son was nearing the end of earning his college degree and I needed to decide on the next steps in my life. I had not enjoyed living the suburban existence and wanted to pursue a life I had dreamed of. Travel, foreign cultures, friendships with people with different experiences and backgrounds. Quite simply, Carol, perhaps unknowingly, was that catalyst for me.

After visiting the Iberian Peninsula with my son last year, I knew that moving to Portugal was what I was destined to do. I knew, even before I visited Portugal, that this was home. When I saw this country for the first time, it nearly took my breath away. This was it.

Upon attending Q’s graduation from his Army training, I will be picking up and moving to northern Portugal. I’m selling most of my belongings and only keeping those things I value most—mementos of Q. growing up, photographs, a few heirlooms. I find that I am not attached to many material things anymore. It will not bother me one bit leaving these things behind. A few times in our life, we are fortunate to meet these people who propel us to make the changes for which we are destined. I believe this is not by coincidence.

It lights the whole sky...

“Even after all this time, the sun never says to the earth, ‘You owe me.’ Look what happens with a Love like that! It lights the whole sky.” 
Hafez (1315-1390) SUFI POET

2 things...

There are 2 things you must say to those who you hold dear.

The first: I love you. The second: I value you. 

  It's as simple as that.

Don't make life about stuff...

One fine day...

I have been searching for this book for years. My Dad used to read poems from it before I fell asleep. I received a text today from a man who had purchased an old bedside table from me yesterday. He said he was removing the drawers to sand and restrain the piece and found this little book wedged behind one of the drawers. He went on to say that he thought l would want it because on the inside cover was written "Happy Birthday, Julie. I love you, Sugarbear! Dad". I must say it has been one fine day.

Those individuals who shine through...

In a world that is often a shallow representation of things which are deemed important, there a a few individuals who shine through.  These few individuals are not cut from that cloth. They choose to shun those superficial and material things. Instead they opt to live a life of integrity and truth.  I am quite grateful for those who shine through.

Whenever I travel I make a point of seeing the sunrise and sunset wherever I go. I read this quote by Anthony Bourdain which sums it up perfectly. "It’s an irritating reality that many places and events defy description. Angkor Wat and Machu Picchu, for instance, seem to demand silence, like a love affair you can never talk about. For a while after, you fumble for words, trying vainly to assemble a private narrative, an explanation, a comfortable way to frame where you’ve been and what’s happened. In the end, you’re just happy you were there — with your eyes open — and lived to see it.”

"Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?"

I am not going to lie.  Today I thought about my son

entering the military as I concurrently checked off my to do list

for my move to Portugal.  I had a moment where I had to sit down

to center and take a few deep breaths to ground myself.  Change is

a part of life, and while an opportunity for growth, it can be, it is for me,

a bit of an anxiety provoking venture.  Despite this I am eagerly anticipating 

what my future will bring.  New sights, new sounds, new experiences. 

"What if I fall?  Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?"

Differing opinions...

I hold my cards quite close to my chest regarding my choices and opinions. There are those who feel that having differing opinions means that you do not like or respect them. This couldn't be further from the truth. Differing choices and opinions are good. It keeps the world balanced.

I believe in you...

Another quote from "Before We Were Yours" was so spot on. When talking with a friend the other day, she said she felt that when I lost my Dad I lost my best friend. This is true. My Dad was my confidant, my mentor, my dear friend. Although it has been well over 12 years since I lost my Dad to cancer, I can still feel him guiding me in my life. I know he is still there for me: encouraging, directing, advising. The night he passed away he said "You have a good heart, Julie. I believe in you."

I got tearful the other day when my brother accompanied to my father's grave .I placed my hand on Dad's grave. I said that I hated that Dad could not be here to see the good man that Q. had become. My brother said that Dad knows. I do believe my brother was right.

“One of the best things a father can do for his daughter is let her know that she has met his expectations. My father did that for me, and no amount of effort on my part can fully repay the debt.” ― Lisa Wingate, "Before We Were Yours".

"Life is not unlike cinema..."

I am reading the book "Before We Were Yours" by Lisa Wingate. I came across this quote tonight and it really resonated with me.

"Life is not unlike cinema. Each scene has its own music, and the music is created for the scene, woven to it in ways we do not understand. No matter how much we may love the melody of a bygone day or imagine the song of a future one, we must dance within the music of today, or we will always be out of step, stumbling around in something that doesn’t suit the moment. I let go of the river’s song.”

Saudade...

This untranslatable Portuguese term refers to the melancholic longing or yearning. A recurring theme in Portuguese and Brazilian literature, saudade evokes a sense of loneliness and incompleteness. ... He continues to say that saudade is “not an active discontent or poignant sadness but an indolent dreaming wistfulness".

Never let a toxic person rent space in your head...

Never let a toxic person rent space in your head.  When they lash out at you, either overtly or covertly (and they will), know that their actions are a product of their inner turmoil.  The actions are related to the toxic person’s insecurities, jealousies, defenses.  Do not lash out and reciprocate in anger.  Go inward to your place of quietness and mindfulness.  Simply remove yourself from this person whose negative actions are targeted toward you.  We have known since childhood that if we place our hand on a hot stove burner, we will recoil quickly to avoid pain.  The same reaction should be applied when attacked verbally and/or behaviorally to a toxic person.  Do not give them to power to disrupt your inner peace and joy. Never let a toxic person rent space in your head.

How very blessed...

I am sitting here after having returned from a 3-week journey across Portugal and southern Spain.  Perhaps it is because I have been up for 2 days of travel in returning home which causes me this moment of reflection.  Perhaps it is because my son and I are finally able to decompress with our sweet Sadie and sweet Todd.  I have missed them greatly.  I am tearful tonight. I am having my second glass of wine and I am unashamedly tearful as I realize have fortunate I am.  I may not have that picture-perfect Hallmark family of which the media and society tell us that we must have. I have unabashedly chosen to remove myself from those that do not accept a life which is tied to the external material existence.  I do, however, have a few family and friends which I hold quite close to my heart.  We have not been without the turmoil that is natural to those who we hold most dear, yet we are bonded.  Fiercely, loyalty, lovingly always.  I am stuck so strongly that it nearly takes my breathe away.  I realize in this moment so clearly, so beautifully, how I am very blessed.