Dear Mama

My kids were off school again today because of the severe cold. It was kind of nice to be able to wake up late and have a leisurely breakfast, even if it was like day 17 of that since we're right on the heels of winter break.

My son requested french toast but my daughter wasn't sure what she wanted. I suggested cinnamon toast and she agreed. After breakfast, she came over to where I was sitting at the table, put down her plate, kissed my forehead, and said:

"Thanks for breakfast, Mom. It was delicious."

Awwww! Does it get any better?

Being a Mom can sometimes feel like a thankless job, which is why moments like that are soooo sweet. I love that Tupac, whose own mother was released from prison just weeks before he was born, wrote a song to help us Moms know we're appreciated:

There's no way I can pay you back
But the plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated

Lady...
Don't cha know we love ya? Sweet lady
Dear mama
Place no one above ya, sweet lady
You are appreciated
Don't cha know we love ya?

I do indeed, and not just when they express it.

I'm sure sorry Tupac's Mama had to lose him so young, but I bet it meant a lot to her that he wrote this song before he died. This is my favorite verse:

Pour out some liquor and I reminsce, cause through the drama
I can always depend on my mama
And when it seems that I'm hopeless
You say the words that can get me back in focus
When I was sick as a little kid
To keep me happy there's no limit to the things you did
And all my childhood memories
Are full of all the sweet things you did for me
And even though I act craaazy
I gotta thank the Lord that you made me
There are no words that can express how I feel
You never kept a secret, always stayed real
And I appreciate, how you raised me
And all the extra love that you gave me
I wish I could take the pain away
If you can make it through the night there's a brighter day
Everything will be alright if ya hold on
It's a struggle everyday, gotta roll on
And there's no way I can pay you back
But my plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated

Next to Me

I really dig this chick's voice, and yesterday a friend of mine came over who is going through a divorce. She's also contemplating her feelings about a friend who is very different from the man who was her husband for 20 years, but won't be for much longer. I brought up the book "The Five Love Languages" and advised her to read it -- it's such a great guide to who you are and what you want and need in a relationship.

When I heard this song today, I thought how it embodies my two love languages -- physical touch and quality time -- really nicely:

You won’t find him drinking at the table
Rolling dice or staying out ’til three
You won’t ever find him be unfaithful
You will find him, you’ll find him next to me

You won’t find him tryna chase the devil
For money, fame, for power, out of greed
You won’t ever find him where the rest go
You will find him, you’ll find him next to me

Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
You will find him, you’ll find him next to me

When the money’s spent and all my friends have vanished
And I can’t seem to find no help or love for free
I know there’s no need for me to panic
Cause I’ll find him, I’ll find him next to me

When the skies are grey and all the doors are closing
And the rising pressure makes it hard to breathe
When all I need's a hand to stop the tears from falling
I will find him, I’ll find him next to me

Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
I will find him, I’ll find him next to me

When the end has come and buildings falling down fast
When we’ve spoilt the land and dried up all the sea
When everyone has lost their heads around us
You will find him, you’ll find him next to me

Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
Next to me – ooh hooo
You will find him, you’ll find him next to me

There's no one next to me right now, but the Universe has heard me say loud and clear that this is what I want and need. I reckon you will find him next to me soon enough!

Stubborn Love

My good luck necklace before it broke

I don't remember the origin of this necklace, but I do know that when I got it, I rejected its premise, which is that you put it on, make a wish and wear it until it falls off (the charm is on a piece of thread), and when that happens, your wish is supposed to come true.

For years, I wore it from time to time, and then took it off again, as I do with all my necklaces. Then sometime this fall, I put the necklace on, and, fully admitting I was in need of a good luck charm, I decided to make a wish and leave it on until it broke off.

I was afraid to wish for what I wanted to wish for, so I made it more generic: I wished that I could finally have the partner I've dreamed of having.

This sounds almost too corny to be true, but I assure you it is. After a conversation this morning with with my departed love, I felt like things were falling into place. I felt buoyed by having access again to my person, and I started to really let myself think about the fact that we might just make it. That I might get to have the partner I've been dreaming of, which is, of course, him.

Crawling into bed this evening, my necklace broke. Could be purely coincidental, but it feels more significant than that.

This song has been running through my head over the past few days, and I haven't really been sure why, but tonight it seems pretty perfect:

So keep your head up, keep your love
Keep your head up, my love [x2]
Keep your head up, keep your love

I reckon that's what we both did over the past six months, to the best of our ability. Tried to keep our heads up even though it didn't feel right to either one of us to be apart. Tried to hold onto the love we'd gained from one another. And I guess we did a pretty good job of that.

But that can't hold a candle to having access again to that love -- even in the space where we're in now where I'm not ready to fully embrace it -- I just plain feel better about the world when I let in the love.

All of which makes me really, really grateful that love is so stubborn; feel really, really lucky; and much cooler than I've ever been about a necklace breaking...

Be Careful of My Heart

I got a sweet email from an old friend and reader of my blog who suggested that this song would be apropos right now, and I reckon she's right:

You and your sweet smile
You and all your tantalizing ways
You and your honey lips
You and all the sweet things that they say
You and your wild wild ways
One day you just up and walked away
Oh you left me hurting

Yeah he did.

But I can forgive you for that now
You taught me something
Something took me half my life to learn
When you give all yourself away
Just tell them to be careful of your heart

I can forgive him, especially since I feel we both gained something from him leaving, but I am gonna need him to listen up to Tracy's wise words:

Be careful of my heart, heart
Be careful of this heart of mine
Be careful of my heart, heart
It just might break and send some splinters flying
Be careful of my heart, heart
Be careful

Please...

Say Something

I heard this song for the first time today in my car, and it made me reflect on where I am today and where I've been.

When my (then) boyfriend was getting ready to leave last summer, I told him how much I loved him, how much I believed in him, and I told him that if he ever felt he was able to offer what I was asking him for, to please let me know:

Say something, I'm giving up on you.
I'll be the one, if you want me to.
Anywhere, I would've followed you.
Say something, I'm giving up on you.

He agreed, and then he left. And I began the long grieving process that included grappling with the really difficult feeling that everything I thought I knew to be true might not be true after all:

And I am feeling so small.
It was over my head
I know nothing at all.

I definitely felt small. And over my head:

And I will stumble and fall.
I'm still learning to love
Just starting to crawl.

I chalked it up to the fact that it was the first time I really loved somebody with every part of my being. Maybe I just didn't understand that it was possible to do that and not have it work out, even if you tried everything in your power to make it work:

Say something, I'm giving up on you.
I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you.
Anywhere, I would've followed you.
Say something, I'm giving up on you.

For a while I tried being in touch with him, but then I reached a point where I just couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't keep actively wanting something so much that I couldn't have, even if it seemed like the most unnatural thing in the world to give it up:

And I will swallow my pride.
You're the one that I love
And I'm saying goodbye.

I did say goodbye, and in doing so, I gained access to some deeply held grief about being abandoned and a whole lot of anger about not getting the love I needed -- in my childhood, in my marriage -- and even, as hard as it was to fathom, from the person who allowed me to fully love for the first time:

Say something, I'm giving up on you.
And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you.
And anywhere, I would have followed you.
Oh-oh-oh-oh say something, I'm giving up on you.

I was sorry I couldn't get to him, but I didn't give up on him. I gave up on needing to tie myself in knots in order to make us work. I gave up on the concept that he was the only person I ever wanted to or could ever love or be loved by in that way.

It sucked, but I did it.

Say something...

And then he did. Say something. He said missed me, loved me, wants to be with me. He said he was willing to work on the things that I'd realized weren't working for me when we were together.

And I felt, well, a lot of things, but most of all, relief: that I can trust myself, my feelings, my body, my intuition. That I know what's up, and I have, the whole time...

Don't Know What You Got (Til It's Gone)

Last Fall, I had it on good authority that I needed to let go entirely of my ex-boyfriend. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, but I did it. And once I got past the first few weeks, it became apparent to me why I needed to do it: It was the only way to break out of the space I was in where the only acceptable outcome was for him to come back and for us to live happily ever after. As long as I needed that to happen in order to be happy, I wasn't in my power, and I wasn't leaving any room for forces that just might know more than I do about what's best for me, for him, and for my kids.

Being back in touch with him isn't as tidy. Presumably, I can hold onto the perspective I gained over the last six months, but doing so under the force of the magnet of our mutual attraction is considerably more difficult. I do have the feeling that there's more potential for growth in another way, through opening myself up to the vulnerabilities that come with really, truly loving someone and having them love you right back. One of the problems we had before was that he wasn't sure about making the commitment to spending our lives together, but he's feeling capable of that now, which makes me cautiously optimistic.

The caution is important, given my experience both during the three years we were together and the six months after he left. I'm committed to looking at the evidence this time. To watching actions rather than hanging on words. To be in reality rather than fantasy. To take it one day at a time.

Contemplating all of this, I heard these headbangers on the radio the other day:

I can't tell ya baby what went wrong
I can't make you feel what you felt
So long ago, I'll let it show
I can't give you back what's been hurt
Heartaches come and go and all that's
left are the words I can't let go
If we take some time to think it over baby
Take some time let me know
If you really wanna go

I love those last three lines, and they're the ones I've been hearing in my mind over and over again the past few days. There's always been something for me about ballads by heavy metal groups. Something about hard livin' dudes getting mushy really does it for me:

Don't know what you got till it's gone
Don't know what it is I did so wrong
Now I know what I got
It's just this song
And it ain't easy to get back
Takes so long

I can't feel the things that cause you pain
I can't clear my heart of your love
It falls like rain, ain't the same
I hear you calling far away
Tearing through my soul I just can't
Take another day, Who's to blame
If we take some time to think it over baby
Take some time let me know
If you really wanna go

Don't know what you got till it's gone
Don't know what it is I did so wrong
Now I know what I got
It's just this song
And it ain't easy to get back
Takes so long

Do you wanna see me beggin' baby
Can't you give me just one more day
Can't you see my heart's been draggin' lately
I've been lookin' for the words to say

Don't know what you got till it's gone
Don't know what it is I did so wrong
Now I know what I got
It's just this song
And it ain't easy to get back
Takes so long

Hard to say how long it will take. So much of it came back in the instant I heard his voice again telling me he now knows what he had and wants it back.

But doing the work, rebuilding the trust, all the while staying open to the possibility that the Universe has other plans for us, that could take a while...

This is the New Year

I heard this song a while back on an episode of Glee, and it seems a fitting way to mark the first day of a new year:

Another year you made a promise
Another chance to turn it all around
And do not save this for tomorrow
Embrace the past and you can live for now
And I will give the world to you

I'm feeling a lot of things with a new year on the horizon: open, grateful, raw, sad, scared, empowered, strong. A lot of the same things I felt in 2013. But last year, I had times when I didn't say or do what I really felt, didn't write down what I need to document, didn't use the full range of my voice:

Speak louder than the words before you
And give them meaning no one else has found
The role we play is so important
We are the voices of the underground
And I will give the world to you

Say everything you've always wanted
Be not afraid of who you really are
'Cause in the end we have each other
And that's at least one thing worth living for
And I will give the world to you

This year I'm going to try to do more of those things I'm scared of and just see where it leads. Try not to attach to the prospect of someone giving the world to me, and focus instead, on giving myself to the world:

This is the new year
A new beginning
You made a promise
You are the brightest
We are the voices
This is the new year
We are the voices
This is the new year...