So I’m really feeling it now. We’re really into each other. Mom and Dad are in Florida because Uncle Rene is dying. And Daddy is taking it pretty hard. So my baby came by last night and set the stage… just how I wanted him to. Candlelight. Music… and LOVE. He talked to me… and told me that I’m his world, and he can’t live without me. And how much he’s so glad he found his destiny with me. And I had goosebumps and chills and I’ve never felt so warm before. And somehow, after he left, I didn’t feel alone at all. I felt warm and loved and protected. I know that sometimes my feelings are fleeting. And sometimes I feel like I might turn around and yell at him for stupid stuff. I’ve started practicing something that really works. When I feel like I’m gonna blow up. I say “BABY!” really loud like I would if I was gonna start some stuff. Then I breathe… and count to 4 in my head and replace whatever would have come out with “I love you.” It changes the tone of the day 9 times out of 10. And he never asks me what I was “gonna” say. He leaves it at that. And usually, the change is demeanor makes it so that whatever it was is insignificant.
The house is really quiet. Every little sound is amplified by the lack of my parents’ presence. I do miss them. But unlike death, mom still can call to verbally tuck me in and call to wake me in the morning. I thought to myself this morning, death wouldn’t be so bad if we could get SOME contact from the other side. What I’d give for a call from Granny. I miss her voice. I think my memory is trying to bury it. But I can’t let go of her. I miss her a lot sometimes. That’s only overshadowed by the lack of my ‘rents right now. But they’ll be back soon, I hope. Although getting them on the plane was a FIASCO. I hope that their trip back will be better and smoother. I’ll remind them to empty their pockets PRIOR to getting to the airport, so they don’t have as much trouble. I can’t be mad at the changes. I’d rather be safe than sorry. But this world doesn’t seem accommodating to growing old.
I’ve been contemplating age a lot lately. Do I WANT to grow old? Seems like…sometimes there is less to live for. I watch old folks roam around and they are drugged up and in contraptions to help them get around. I’ve been reading “For Better or For Worse” comic strip this week… and this one episode really got my attention… I’m afraid to live life looking back all the time. “I could’ve been” “I should’ve been” “I was so… and now I’m not” My greatest fear has been to live with regret. I have to own all my decisions and be at peace with them. I’m working on all of that. *
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