Forgotten birds ...

Better things will surely come our way ...

My mind is heavy these days - my mind and my heart, but that sounds so cliché - and I just have to wait this phase out. I don't know if I should be writing about this at all. I don't know why I don't spill my thoughts into some kind of journal first, clear my head before writing for public consumption. I know, I know, the whole validation thing, product of this faux-writer's ego and whatever I decided a while back was my "emotional imprint", as they say in the books and on the talk shows. Freshen up those Psych 101 skills; the people I most want to talk to about what's going on are the ones I can't put this onto right now. I have great folks around me, of course, but no one can address what I'm feeling in quite the same way as they can, for better or for worse. And so I lie awake, which I do anyway, but this time insomnia is a montage of past and current regrets and a panicked glimpse of a stark future I'd never be ready for. And when I sleep I sleep the wrong hours, throw everything off balance and disappoint the people I most want to protect. I generally want to hibernate but at least once or twice a day, usually around this time, my eyes start to leak and I crave company.

Does this make any sense?

I was coming out of the shower before and heard N in the other room; he'd just come in. I practiced my greeting in my head first, "I thought I heard you!", thinking it sounded like what someone who was feeling "normal" might say.

Looking forward to this phase being over? Me too (and them too, and him too, and the dog too). In the meantime, I will talk about other things here. I just needed to get that other bit out.

Does any of this make sense? It does to me.

Skies above two of my favorite places ...

And I you ...

Birds

Ma mere

Breathe ...

This may be a bit all over the place, but bear with me. Or don't -- there's lots of other stuff out there to read. Like how Anna Paquin has announced her bisexuality, for instance. She's lovely, and she met my dog once and was nice to him.

So, in the midst of all that's been going on around me that I alluded to before, I'd been feeling a little something more than compassion for my friends. Of course they've been weighing heavily on my mind -- one is embarking on an unforeseen divorce where there are children and assets involved and it's been awful for her; one just lost her father; another has just had surgery for prostate cancer; another can't seem to keep herself out of trouble for very long. Add to that the long suffering broken hearts, motherless daughters, people-who-can't-see-the-forest and I've got my hands full -- willingly. I wish I could save everyone from everything but since that's not possible, this is something.

As I've said, it does comfort me to be here for the people I love (another reason to unload the toxic relationships and concentrate on the enriching ones); as someone who can fall apart so often and so easily -- though I'm getting better -- it soothes my soul to know that people can turn to me when they need me, and that I can help in some small way. Obviously this effects my moods -- I hurt when the people I love hurt, and worry when situations are out of control, but that's just the way it is.

But this time there seemed to be something more going on, or as I said to someone last week, "I'm feeling this weird sense of impending dread." As we know, I have what my sister calls "the vapors". And they were, in fact, heralding something more.

My mom invited me for lunch last Thursday; we usually meet out but she asked me to come over. We sat down and she told me we had something to talk about, and of course my tears started to well up. She's having surgery for a suspicious area of her lung that may be cancerous but very well may not be. All I heard was "lung cancer", and I fell apart, told her how much I love her and how sorry I am for any and everything I've ever done wrong, how she's my entire world. She hugged me, made me tea, got me an Ativan, made me eat and explained more -- that it might be a very specific and unusual type of LC -- or it might be completely benign, that the surgery is most often non-invasive and this is not an LC that tends to metastasize (took me three times to spell that right), and that the prognosis is highly encouraging. She scheduled her appointment to meet with the surgeon while I was there, and we hatched somewhat of a plan for how she would tell my sister, who is as hard to get on the phone away from work and kids as every other working mom is, and who lives out west.

My mom has beaten unusual forms of unrelated cancers twice before. Twenty years ago it was an extremely rare form of leukemia and she was given a fairly short window of possible cure. Apparently she looked at the doctor and said, "That's ridiculous." Twenty years later, we know she was right.

Right before 9-11 she was diagnosed with a type of breast cancer that, like this lung situation, tends to remain localized and is easier to treat. In rapid succession my Granny died suddenly, my mom was diagnosed, 9-11 hit and took away a friend and so much more, and my dad had a serious injury that required surgery and subsequent treatments. It was a challenging time, and my mom was the strongest force in it all.

She is now almost 9 years free of that cancer.

And now this. And she's not scared -- she promises me she's not scared -- and my dad and my sister are both taking their cues from her. So that's what I shall do. They did meet with the surgeon, scheduled it for later this month, and she has agreed to answer any questions I have along the way. This is a big deal; I'm the one they most dreaded telling, for reasons obvious to anyone who knows me, and so they tend to avoid frequent conversations that may elicit emotion.

This time around I will try not to fall apart anymore. This time I will be strong, level-headed, and as calm and non-teary as I can manage. This time I'll take my cues from her, and I'll try not to fear fear. I'll pray for the best, and assume all will be well.

All good thoughts welcome.

Je t'aime, Maman, toujours et avec tout mon coeur.

Let it be...

I really do wish I'd written more in the past couple of weeks but the truth is, I'm exhausted. Exhausted because of my poor sleep (and other) patterns. Exhausted because I have close, close friends who mean the world to me who are going through times far more difficult than they deserve, and who I insist on being available for. Because I love them. Because in my darkest hours, knowing I had people I could talk to and count on was what sustained me most. That and sleep, which we've already addressed. Exhausted because I've just battled my way out of a friendship that reached the toxicity level I addressed in ... 2008? This is a person who, in my opinion, blames the world for his current -- and vast -- problems, and who takes advantage of the kindnesses extended to him. In our recent flurry of emails -- his ranting, my responding and pointing out, but that's probably a biased read on the situation -- he told me that when I lent him money (which I'll never see again) at least I was "helping out someone who truly deserved it" and that I have no idea what the world is really like because I've "had it made". To which I pointed out that he knows nothing about my childhood -- not even where, city-wise, I grew up -- nor does he know anything about the dynamic in my family. Which is good, now, but hasn't always been. At all. And which furthers my point -- his presumptuousness is part of what makes him see the world as owing him something. I should just stop responding to his messages. I know I should. But on principle, I can't let false information that he spews at me go un-addressed. This has always been a problem for me.

Yep, I've got it made.

In any event, I'm going to try to sleep another hour -- today is an office day -- and, failing that, will shower and drink too much coffee and go to work feeling sluggish and slightly depressed from lack of sleep.

Non-sequitor:

When I was little, I thought the song, "Torn Between Two Lovers" was "Torn Between Two Leopards". I realize the cat above is a panther or puma, but I didn't see any leopards on that particular trip.

I need to talk about the positive things -- post more photos from Tulum, describe the amazing celebration we had for my mom, but ... I'm exhausted and not feeling particularly "up" these days. This too shall pass.

Thanks for listening.