Louisiana is a strange land. All summer long, we've hardly had any rain. But even without the cool of the rain, the heat, with the exception of the last two weeks of July and the first half of August, hasn't been terribly oppressive either. But now the lingering Louisiana rain has set in, five days in a row. No sunshine. I have to keep reminding myself that summer is still here, that any day now, the sun will show his sweet, glowing face and that wem will go swimming again before the end of August. It's gray, it's dreary and it's getting darker earlier because of the cloud cover.
I thought I was ready for a change in the seasons, but as it turns out, not quite. I love the ease of the summer.
Languid. I love that word. Sultry. Another word that I love.
And with the change of the seasons, from summer to fall, from fall to winter, comes my love/hate relationship with the holidays. Love because it's warm, filled with family, food and giving. Hate because it's filled with activity, school projects and endless commitments to have warm time with family, friends, food and giving. Seems I have managed the art of finding fault with things that I love. Can't I ever be content?
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Night Thoughts
It's late and I find myself wandering the house alone again.
This has to do with my son and my counselor. I am trying turn over a new leaf. I am trying not to consume most of time with worry over my oldest child. Sometimes late at night though, when he's not yet home, it gets a little difficult.
And I can't help but wonder about something my counselor once said to me. She said that addictive personality's often crave drama. And then she said that I had that personality...addictive. Me. I guffawed at this. Guffawed. And I'm pretty sure that's how you spell it.
The thing about truth is that when you recognize it, it's liberating. So, even though this flys in the face of everything that I'd like to believe about myself, I have to consider that this may be true .
So, what does this say about me? And how can this liberate me from my present cycle of drama revolving around my son?
This blog doesn't wrap itself up with nice, fuzzy answers. I don't have any right now. I'm working on it though.
And that, in itself, is a beginning. An unraveling of truth.
This has to do with my son and my counselor. I am trying turn over a new leaf. I am trying not to consume most of time with worry over my oldest child. Sometimes late at night though, when he's not yet home, it gets a little difficult.
And I can't help but wonder about something my counselor once said to me. She said that addictive personality's often crave drama. And then she said that I had that personality...addictive. Me. I guffawed at this. Guffawed. And I'm pretty sure that's how you spell it.
The thing about truth is that when you recognize it, it's liberating. So, even though this flys in the face of everything that I'd like to believe about myself, I have to consider that this may be true .
So, what does this say about me? And how can this liberate me from my present cycle of drama revolving around my son?
This blog doesn't wrap itself up with nice, fuzzy answers. I don't have any right now. I'm working on it though.
And that, in itself, is a beginning. An unraveling of truth.
Friday, August 08, 2008
Blessed are the Cheesemakers
I had a wonderful week with my in-laws. It's a unique situation...maybe not so unique, but still very special to me. If you read my blog (TWO...count them...TWO readers) you know that my husband, Brian, passed away when we were very young. That's been 19 years ago exactly tomorrow. Hard to believe that so many years have passed. His family, the Johnsons of the Wildwoods, have never let me forget that I belong to them. Just the other night, over margaritas at Pepito's, my mother-in-law, Carmen said those exact words "You belong to us." She's an amazing woman whom I love and admire greatly. And she loves her some margaritas. Incredibly refined and always in control, one margarita unlocks the door to her "long hair" side. I love that about her. She shines. And funny!...she makes me laugh until my sides hurt. She opens her house to me and I feel like I'm home.
And then there's Ray...my father-in-law. He comes and goes but when he's there, he's there. Warm, big-hearted and full of stories about his military life, his gunshop, and anything else that involves explicit, technical mechanical details or a man named Beaudreaux. The man is always working on things. And he always fixes them. He loves his family and hands out hugs and kisses unlike most men I know.
Kristin, the baby of the family, has grown into a young woman. My first date with Brian was taking Kristin and my little sister, Pam, to see The Fox and the Hound. It was so sweet. She was so tiny and slight. Full of questions. Now she's a beautiful young woman with two girls of her own, Bella and Anna Marie, and well on her way to making a life for herself and her two girls as a single mother. I have no doubt that she can accomplish this.
And then there's Diahn, the middle determined child. We befriended each other in high school and it never ceases to amaze me when she says she thought that I was cool...ME...in high school. And how she loved it that I let her hang around with me and my cool senior friends at lunch. My friends and I were anything but cool.
We were the anti-cool.
The negative of cool.
We were...well, let's face it, we were cool repellent.
But when I'm with her, my sister-in-law, we are anti-cool together. We remember. We laugh. We drink a little and laugh a lot. We sing. We throw out Monty Python one liners like crazy.
And we catch up on every detail imaginable that we've missed. Never miss a beat.
I am different, yet the same when I return to Tuscaloosa, to the Wildwoods. There is a part of me there that is separate from my other life. A part of me that I left there. It's so good to remember that girl...that life. And even better to find her among sweet family, and bring her back to life, back to my family in Louisiana.
And then there's Ray...my father-in-law. He comes and goes but when he's there, he's there. Warm, big-hearted and full of stories about his military life, his gunshop, and anything else that involves explicit, technical mechanical details or a man named Beaudreaux. The man is always working on things. And he always fixes them. He loves his family and hands out hugs and kisses unlike most men I know.
Kristin, the baby of the family, has grown into a young woman. My first date with Brian was taking Kristin and my little sister, Pam, to see The Fox and the Hound. It was so sweet. She was so tiny and slight. Full of questions. Now she's a beautiful young woman with two girls of her own, Bella and Anna Marie, and well on her way to making a life for herself and her two girls as a single mother. I have no doubt that she can accomplish this.
And then there's Diahn, the middle determined child. We befriended each other in high school and it never ceases to amaze me when she says she thought that I was cool...ME...in high school. And how she loved it that I let her hang around with me and my cool senior friends at lunch. My friends and I were anything but cool.
We were the anti-cool.
The negative of cool.
We were...well, let's face it, we were cool repellent.
But when I'm with her, my sister-in-law, we are anti-cool together. We remember. We laugh. We drink a little and laugh a lot. We sing. We throw out Monty Python one liners like crazy.
And we catch up on every detail imaginable that we've missed. Never miss a beat.
I am different, yet the same when I return to Tuscaloosa, to the Wildwoods. There is a part of me there that is separate from my other life. A part of me that I left there. It's so good to remember that girl...that life. And even better to find her among sweet family, and bring her back to life, back to my family in Louisiana.
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