Coming-of-age stories and moments are supposed to be for teenagers and boys whose testicles have barely dropped. Not for formerlies like myself. But, I keep having these coming of age moments since my Mom passed and I meet hard moments head on. Maybe they should be called coming-of-old-age stories.

Last week, I finally went to clear some of my Mom's stuff. Three floors and a cellar full of memories, moments and enough papers to fill at least four Got Junk trucks. Only managed to get to two rooms--kitchen and a bathroom. Made a minor dent in another room. Collected pictures. Found my daughter's artwork, her Big Foot award from when she learned to tie her shoes, and even my own paintings. A portrait of a lady done when I was six. Pretty detailed for a child. Can even remember when I did it, in Paris, while my mother typed her first novel.

Wondered down Memory Lane. Rolled through Nostalgia Alley. Ate the food that made me feel comfortable and remember moments with my Mom. Felt at peace, even comfortable in that house and its mound of students' papers, and copious notes for those next novels buried deep in the soul of an incredible spirit. And as I dug through and tossed my Mom's things away, it hit me-- I realized what it is I'm supposed to do with the rest of my life. Guess it's my calling to unearth hidden talent found in the souls of the creatives that darken my doorstep. Maybe that's always been my talent to be that fairy that waves a wand and poof--your dreams come true. Hell, I was the fairy in the first-grade play. Maybe that's the pit in my stomach I've been feeling since I got back from clearing my Mom's house. My house. My daughter's house. The house I left but never left me.

Fall's here. Time to get the wand and get to wavin'.

High Anxiety

I'm having some moments--work, life and the cousins. My life for the most part is simple and beautiful. Nice home. Nice dog. Wonderful daughter. Great step-father. Cool extended family, friends and awesome siblings. What more could there be? Work is work--a crazy and chaotic group of misfits with the intellectual capacity to perform less menial tasks, but hey, it's a job! Life--again, the friends, the dog, the daughter, the father, the family. Enough said. So why am I feeling anxious and uptight? Am I sleepy? Yes. Am I hungry? No. Am I so pissed off at the bathroom contractors who've left me shower less mirror less and in 2 inches of white dust everywhere complaining about the work they know they were to do and the extras they've created by their own doing who have been no shows for the past three days and sent me a jacked up email at 1am which I am still fuming over? Yes--that's it. And the fact that I went out on a limb to help my own and they fucked me. Now I have to hire a new crew to finish what they should have done, the extra they could have been paid to do and wonder why it's so hard to get folks to give you the same respect you give them. Oy. Just wanted to spruce up my bathroom so I can chill in it as I enjoy my somple life. Not much to ask. I guess some folks just need to make things difficult. I'll be happy when classes start.

Not much of a deep rant this week. Just a rant.

Spring Has Sprung

It was a Sunday morning, in March. First day of Spring and my daughter was born. It was very early and I remember going into my mother's room and telling her it was time. "Time for what?" she mumbled. "Time for the baby to come". Time for my life to forever change is what I should have replied. Time for good things to always come to me in March. Time for laughter and lessons and growth. Never would have imagined that the time would come when my Mom would not be there or calling on "our" girl's birthday. But yesterday that time came to pass. The day was just as beautiful as that day in Spring 27 years ago, though. My Mom would have liked that we spent it in the park and that my daughter looked resplendent and happy.
There are many more first days of Spring to come. Many more happy moments to be had. Many more walks in the park and many more great things to happen in March.
It's time to spring forward.

Write Something

Gosh, been forever and a day since I've written anything worth sharing. Have a ton to share but not in the mood to. Lost my Mom. That loss made me lose it and lose my love of writing for a minute. But I promise to write again. And write that book. And write this and other blogs. And give voice to others who must and can write. My Mom would have loved that. She always said I could write and I believe her.