February 6, 2009
50 million flowers
So...yesterday was tough - probably the toughest in a while. But, as is it is - I put on my big girl panties and I will deal with it. That's a favorite saying in my family - we were taught that life, well, it's life - you either deal with it kick it's ass or it defeats you and kicks your ass. There is not much of that in between stuff. So after an evening of feeling sorry for myself, I'm getting back on track.
I've always a big music fan - going through times of my life marked by bits and pieces of music. I can remember vividly the first piece of vinyl purchased for me (and only me) was from my aunt when I quit biting my fingernails in the first great. To this day, when I hear "I told the Witchdoctor" I look at my thumbnails and smile. My sister got me this wonderful contraption for Christmas that lets my iPod be my alarm clock and I can listen to my choice of music when I wake up in the morning instead of asinine local DJs or the mind melting buzzer. It also has this wonderful sleep feature, much like a television so I can fall asleep to my "mellow" playlist. Oh technology.
There may be many of you that don't remember vinyl, but I do. My happy task every Saturday (after my chores - yes, we called them chores even though I didn't live on a farm) was to walk to Bellas Hess and graze through the 45's to find my purchase of the week. It cost 99 cents. I would pour over Tiger Beat magazine and have big daydreams of the teen flavor of the week sweeping me up into a kiss. I never really went more than a kiss. I didn't know much at 12 (as it should be).
I would come home and stack my vinyl - with the assistance of those yellow thingies placed carefully in the center - and plug in my gigantic headphones, open my carefully hoarded cinnamon candies and listen for hours. The same songs over and over. If I was lucky, a friend came over and we would perfect dance routines to our favorite song. We would pull out my mom's old albums and laugh at Elvis, Dion and her teen idols.
Occasionally, my mom would poke her head in and ask me not to sing out loud - hey, I never claimed I had a singing voice. Much like my youngest nephew begs me not to sing in the car when we drive. And....I think of those times as I hear his sweet voice singing. Time washes on and on and on. Children become us and eventually, I guess we become the children again. And we plant seeds of the future grown from the heirloom seeds of the past. And we make them strong and resilient. We give them love and allow them to be silly.
And I will deal with setbacks and triumphs, hopefully with a bit of grace mixed in with my cursing fate and railing (just a bit). And anger will abate and hope will come back (after I railed at her a bit last night too). And as someone important recently said, today is the day we dust ourselves off (again) and get to the business of rebuilding. And though I may have setbacks...I will keep on. And I will play the iPod and dance silly dances as I go.
scribbled by Char