Day 75: Thankful for a full life past, present, and future...

She peered out of the cave into the dawn sunlight. Her cubs were cubs no more. They had grown and left the cave, making their own journey. The momma bear felt sad that this part of her life was ending. She looked back at the empty cave that was so full of life not long ago. She shivered and shook her head. She ventured into the morning air...ready to walk into the new chapter of her life.

Day 62:

I think I let the genie out of the bottle...the cat out of the bag...the characters out of the secret place where they have been forced to live. Perhaps other writers or creators of tales have experienced this. Now that I have voiced their existence, the characters of my book won't leave me alone.  They each come to me with their story, justifying their motives and actions. Whether I am in the shower, doing dishes, or even in the grocery store, I feel like I am being followed around by a gaggle of imaginary geese. No, I am not going bonkers...did that long ago. 

I feel a little like I am binge watching a Netflix series in my head. Now, I really have to carry my notebook around with me because they get terribly upset if I do not capture their point of view in a conflict. It should be interesting to see who gets "first person" placement. Then again, as it evolves, I believe they will all get a say so in what finally happens. Yes, I do not know the ending yet. I'm sure one of them will spring that on me while I'm in the bathroom. So, if you ever see me talking to myself on the street, just assume I am on my Bluetooth, even though we all know I am talking to "them". Today, I am thankful I have not yet been committed!

Day 61: 

Today I admit what I started many years ago...a fantasy, a story that has started, sputtered, stopped, morphed, and remained my little secret.  A tale that I have told no one about, not even my kids or my mom. But my little post apocalyptic world of fantasy has now requested that life finally be breathed into it...that it be allowed to see completion and the light of day. So, with renewed vigor I return to the world where Nick lives, searching for Hank and his mother, being constantly haunted by Alana, a woman he has yet to meet.

For years I told my kids stories about the Secret Garden which is not about the story I am writing but about the desire to enter that Secret Place where you can create lives out of thin air...you can be a kid again playing make believe. You can dance with wolves, slay a dragon, kiss a handsome prince, and live to tell others all about the amazing adventures you have had. Now with the kids going on their own journeys, I can revisit my own Secret Garden. For that, I am thankful.

Day 60:

I look up after driving for about 20 minutes. The sun is setting, and it is a warm but comfortable summer evening with the golden hues reflecting on the trees in the yard of the home that sits before me. I recognize the house but not the person coming out the front door waving her arms at me, ranting like a crazy person, "Who are you! Get out of my driveway! We don't allow solicitors here!" I put my car in reverse and slowly pulled out of the driveway. "How had I ended up here?"

I had just attended a free writer's conference where I had listened to published writers read some of their work. It was a brief meeting after a long, hard day at work, but it had inspired me to return to the world of a story I had been working on over the years. The plot line unfurled in my head as I drove home from the meeting, feeling rejuvenated and inspired to revisit my imaginary world.

As I drove home from the conference, I passed Dr. Amy's large, blue-grey Victorian home on the main street. It had not changed, still shrouded by large trees with the small front yard overgrown with plants but somehow still seeming like is was tended to and was meant to have this appearance. Her house sent me into a different world, one that seemed to have happened a life-time ago. Dr. Amy had seen my children for about a year while one of her colleagues had counseled my husband and I in couples therapy. It was in that house where our marriage would meet its overdue demise, and the children would be given guidance.

After passing the old home, I must have gone into mental cruise control, allowing old habits to guide my driving as I took inventory of life events that started with that house, memories that somehow intertwined into my fictional story and the science fiction realm I had created in my imagination.  As we had done for the entire year in 2004, I drove home after going by Dr. Amy's...the home we had lost to foreclosure during the ensuing 3 year divorce process...the home we had spent several years and thousands of dollars renovating...the home we had bought in 1995 after moving to Wisconsin from Los Angeles. And there I sat....at a home that was no longer home.

As I drove away, I was not sad but amazed at the changes in life we all go through and how our past "lives" often reside in the same dimension as our current life, forcing us to recalibrate and take stock in where we were and where we are going. I am thankful that my old self somehow took me back to that house. Driving away this time meant closure and further solidified my desire to continue on my new adventures.

Day 57:

I am thankful that I have clean clothes. Seems like such a simple thing, but when you attempt to impart the wisdom of washing clothes on a regular basis to your kids...well, let's just say I think something is lost in translation. My voice once again starts to sound like any adult on Charlie Brown. Wa, wa, wa...wa, wahhhh.  Translation: If you launder your clothes once a week, you will have something that smells and looks clean to wear. "Seriously, Mom, what a waste of time." Now, mind you, it was never a waste of time when Mom did it, but now Mom says, "Hhhmmmm, I think they are old enough for this task." I didn't expect this learning curve, but then I realize, "Of course, their dad's mom still does his laundry, and he's almost 60 years old." Yes, I have to giggle a bit to myself. Did I mention that I am very, very thankful that I no longer have to do his laundry or try to teach him to do his own.
I clearly failed in that task. Hope I'm able to do better teaching my kids....because they know full well that there is no way in hell I am doing their laundry when they are 60. Ah well, until they learn, I will still get to watch the entertaining exercise they go through every time they change clothes. I call it the "Sift & Sniff". You know the drill...they sift through the piles of dirty clothes on their floor, bed, in the closet. They find a possible candidate...sniff...sniff...wait for it...sniff...We Have a Winner!!!!

Day 54:

Thankful for my Chub. Don't tell me that didn't get your attention.

Gonna be back tracking again...my trusty "Chub" contains my notes of thankfulness for my missed blog days. Okay, I know some of you are snickering at my notebook's nickname, but it wasn't my choice, honest! Although, if I wanted to name it...what better!?

Life continues to explode every step I take. Venturing out of the comfort zone creates a new landscape all unto its own...completely unknown to me...and frightening.  Every explosion that doesn't destroy me, takes my breath away, and I have to consciously regroup and remind myself of the journey. I must force myself to continue to break old habits. It is sometimes a very solitary journey...one I am guessing many of us make without saying a word, looking out from behind our own walls wondering if all those walking before us are also making this lonely journey to discovery.

Living with children and under the constant scrutiny of them and the ex-husband creates an even more daunting mine field with constant attempts to reveal my true self to those who want to see it and protect my true self from those out to destroy...or those who would rather me just disappear. It is a somewhat ugly dance of missteps, misconceptions, judgments of old, distortion of memories. I attempt to focus on the future, trying to release all anger and pain, attempting to create myself whole again.

I feel like a puzzle that has been thrown on the floor, only to be put together when time and the inclination permits. The dog has chewed on some of my pieces, some pieces seemed lost, only to have been recently found in someone's pocket, and as the original puzzle picture comes together, it is clearly worn with pieces not quite fitting together properly.

Day 50:

In hindsight, I have to laugh that today is the halfway mark of my challenge to be thankful. After such a pleasant, relaxing, rejuvenating weekend, what could possibly go wrong? Famous last words. The man upstairs appears to be in a devilish mood, leaving me grasping for a thankful thread...Only the thread I chose turned out to be like a loose thread on a sweater. I pulled and the whole damn thing came unraveled.  I am thankful to still have the thread?

Without going into detail, let's just say my teenager returned to her role as defiant and certain I was the enemy for checking on her whereabouts after dark. Ah yes, and then the dear Ex swoops down as her friend, certain to affirm her suspicions that I am a crazy lunatic, emotional, unbalanced, blah, blah, blah.

Well, let's be honest, all of you who know me, know that to be true. I am emotional, crazy at times, and self-affirmed out-of-whack. Totally unreasonable and an absolute challenge to be around. Yup, let's put me back in the loony bin and throw away the key.  Oh, but I must retort, I come from a whole batch of Loony Tunes...and I have to say, if I had my druthers, which I do, I am going to pick bonkers over the "I'm the sane, reasonable one" any day.

It is certain my kids will choose the path of least resistance. After all, if your dad gives you an expensive skateboard to bribe you to not do something self-destructive for a month versus the mom who punishes you for "doing that thing" by taking away your cell phone, computer, and IPad...hell, I'd chose the skateboard too. Mom is nuts, and Dad is the reasonable, sane one.

Unfortunately, this kind of distracted parenting has become the norm in our society as more children grow up with divorced parents. I feel sorry for my daughter who is trying to navigate her way through these teenage years and getting some very inconsistent feedback from her parents on her "questionable" choices. I wish that our spousal relationship and those battles remained in the past and did not cloud our choices when trying to help our kids grow up healthy and positive. My son confirms we are not the best parents. Well, that's disheartening to say the least. And like us, our kids will be certain they will do better than us as parents. Therein lies the horrid cyclical nature of life as I do believe my Ex and I were convinced we too would do a better job than our parents. Yes, you may all Laugh Out Loud at that one!

Oiy! So, the balance I sought from getting away kind of blew up in my face. I am taking a deep breath. "Give her space."  You parents out there know for sure what comes next. "Mom is distant. She doesn't care about me. Mom doesn't do this....that...and the other thing for me." I have learned that I cannot win this battle with my daughter or the Ex. I can only do my best to be there for her when she needs me most, as unreasonable as that may sound.  I can only hope what my mom tells me is true, "When your kids hit 40, they will like you again!" Thanks, Mom!