I’d like to add two items to the “Tips for Anorexic’s” list that I started a couple of weeks ago. In addition to putting hot sauce on EVERYTHING and drinking ICE COLD WATER, try these two things.
1. Watch yourself on a movie someone made in your classroom while you were hosting the “first grade dance party”. (Picture the beached whale dancing with tiny water sprites. It AIN’T pretty.)
2. Get in a little bit of trouble at work for your blog.
These are my new top two ways to jumpstart your diet. You can drop four pounds in six days. Fool proof.
I am reposting this tribute to my mother today, because I am in need of her. I feel her arms around me, and can almost hear the whisper of her voice…if I listen very, very carefully.
No need to comment. Just send me some love.
Her Name was AnnaBelle...
I’m getting really good at not thinking about you. In fact, sometimes I go many days without remembering the fact that you’ve been gone for over 25 years now.
However, when I saw on the news that Natasha Richardson had died - the very same way you did, it shook me to the core. I remember when you fell in your kitchen, and had a terrible headache that night. They sent you home from the ER, and the next day you lost your sense of taste. On your next trip to the ER, they kept you and put you in ICU after discovering that hematoma at the base of your skull. It wasn’t many days after that we lost you. You were 48 years old.
So, forgive me if I allow myself a little moment this morning to think about you.
I miss your incredible sense of humor.
I miss the way you would pretend to be on sit-up number 50 in the living room when I would walk in.
I miss the way you would pee your pants from laughing so hard on the phone with your closest sister, Aunt Shirley.
I miss the smell of fresh baked sour dough bread.
I miss the way you always made me feel special, valuable, intelligent and strong.
Mostly, I just miss you.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m thinking I need to go back to Starbucks today and let the girl at the drive-in window know the reason I was crying when I picked up my coffee yesterday. I caught myself off-guard with some tucked away memories.
Dear members of the FBI,
I’m not sure if you received my last (deleted) message about a sure fire-way to combat terrorism, but on Sunday I stumbled upon another brilliant method you could employ.
Force the terrorists to spend 8 hours in the sun (94 degrees mind you) at an all-day field hockey tournament. THEN, at 4:30 in the afternoon, have them walk into the only air-conditioned building next to the field where numerous teams have decided to rest- after taking off their SHOES AND SOCKS that they’ve worn since 7:00 that morning.
They’ll be dead on the floor in 30 seconds. Guaranteed.
Jesus my eyes are still watering.
“Mrs. SMITH, what’s wrong today? You act like your are not feeling yourself.”
“Well, Sammy, someone has broken my spirit. My heart is hurting today.”
“I’m gonna give you a hug, then. That’s like a band-aid for the heart.”
Yes it is, Sam. Yes. It. Is.
Well, it’s been a long and interesting day. When I started this blog initially, it was to share all the thoughts and funny stories that were swirling in my head. I never knew I could experience such joy and relief when I was able to put those thoughts to paper. I never in my wildest dreams meant to offend anyone in any way.
I want to thank you all for sharing in my life- even if only for 10 months. As you could tell from the stories- it’s never boring, and is often sprinkled with incredible joy and occasionally deep sorrow.
I have come upon a situation that requires that I take a break from posting thoughts and stories. I will continue to visit all my friends, and hope that when I am able to return to blogging (in some way, shape or form) that you all will not have forgotten about me.
It’s kind of like what Warren Beatty said at the end of that movie where he gets put into a new body. It was something like, “You’ll remember ME, won’t you? I might not look the same, I might not talk the same, but deep in my heart, I will BE the same.”
Be well… and laugh often. That’s what makes the world go round, right? Wait, maybe that’s LOVE….dammit. I knew I’d get that wrong.
(Yeah, that’s right people, I said Michael. I’m tired of trying to remember his pretend name, and frankly I’m too lazy to keep typing The Golden Boy.)
I can’t tell you how my heart broke in two on the way home from school today. I knew that you were mad as you walked into my room after volleyball intramurals - You were ranting and raving about the officiating, and continued the whole way out to the car. Then as we pulled away from the school you shocked me when you told me what happened at school today.
“Laura told everybody in the class that I was FAT. She wrote it in on a paper and SHOWED everyone. She said John did it, but I don’t think he would. He’s my BEST friend.” That was about the point you put your hands on your face and started crying. I am so glad that you turned your head and looked out the window, because I had no control over the tears that began to stream down my cheeks as I felt your pain. I had no words. I knew I couldn’t speak because I would have started sobbing. (Why do all of our conversations happen in the car??? p.s.) If I could have formed some kind of response, it would have surely included the fact that the DOCTOR said you were going to be a big man, and if the kids knew you were going to be 6’4” they might not be teasing you right now. However, I knew this was not the response that you were looking for.
Instead, I placed my hand on your head and did my best to hold you as you cried the entire ride home. Tonight before you go to bed, we’ll talk about friends, enemies, pain, joy, youthful ignorance and forgiveness.
Then, after you are asleep and the worries of the day are wiped away, I will pray that God gives you the strength that you will need to navigate your way through what will surely be painful and difficult teen years.
(As for myself, it’s BACK to the liquor store, cause here we go again.)