For as long as I can remember (and believe me, the older I get the less that is), I was a poem writer (aka poet, although that seems to depict lyric and verse. Mine?, well mine are more like ramblings) …..new boyfriend? Write a poem….breakup with boyfriend? Write a poem (side note: I feel it necessary to clarify that these boyfriend poems were written way BEFORE I met my prince charming and got married, 23 years ago, hmmmm that could be inspiration for a new poem…or at least a fairy tale) …Fight with siblings? Scream, yell, cry, (occasionally throw things) Write a poem… stub my toe…. Oh C’mon, I’M NOT THAT PATHETIC! … Someone dies, someone is born…. Well, you get my drift...
I guess you can call it my release, my therapy, my obsession…. Whatever you decide to refer to it as, it has gotten me through some of the best and worst times of my life! (insert violin playing here). Most of them, at the time they were happening, seemed only to apply to me [no one else could EVER be feeling as good (or as bad) as I was], bordering on the melodramatic…. But, now, especially living with two teenagers: Superstar-Original-Stud (hereinafter referred to as “S-O-S” (Yes, that is a distress signal!!) a member of the male species) and Dramatic-Diva-Angel (the Victoria Secret kind, not the really well behaved kind) (“D-D-A”, a member of the female species- - and, NO, it isn‘t A.D.D. backwards on purpose, geez .... (shhhh, it is but don‘t tell her),
I can see that it was just life happening. I was no different than anyone else, despite my parents telling me I was “special”…..We all go through our ups and downs, and (eventually) get through them (or just realize how ridiculous it was to begin with), despite doubting we ever will. (Although I do have to point out that I’m finding it a little harder getting through their teen years than my own, probably because I was such a perfect child…Right Ma?….Ma??)
Life happens, good and bad, hard and easy, happy and sad…..but life goes on and it is up to you to make the best of it ! Let’s pause a second, this seems like an appropriate time to remind you all to stop and think; think about others…you never know what is going on in other people’s lives on a daily basis; who‘s hurting or worried or tired. Use compassion and understanding in everything you do (I confess, I may not always do this myself, but I try)! There, I said it, my pitch toward peace and harmony. That feels good!
Okay, where was I? Right, my poetry. Since my spawn (one of the more endearing terms I use to describe my angels) could read, I have resorted to writing poems when the need arises…. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I talk to my children, well young adults, about EVERYTHING (like it or not)! In fact, I can say with complete confidence (okay maybe not complete but some confidence) that we have a very open and honest relationship of which I am very pleased and thankful. I am truly blessed. That’s not to say we don’t argue, we do, bulging veins and all, but, again, that’s a subject for a different blog. They will tell you that whenever I have them alone in the car, as soon as they hear the locks go down in the doors and the music go off they panic, dry heave, claw at the window, scream for help! Any or all of the above. See, this is the only time, they are my captive audience! -aside from the earphones dangling from one ear, the cell phone buzzing with texts, tweets and notifications (never “phone” calls, odd, huh?) and the occasional random blurt outs (okay more than occasional from SOS but that’s a whole different post, maybe a couple…..okay, several)…..
But, I can also see that, in between the sighing and the eye-rolling, they are listening (partially) and taking it all (about half) in…. it’s getting through to them! I’M getting through to them! True, they have no escape unless, of course, they are confident they can keep up with the 55 mph speed that the car is traveling when they open the door to jump out (ok, 80 mph, but who‘s counting? Oh you are Officer :/?) ….
Then there are those times when I feel a poem is necessary, if not to reiterate my point and ascertain that it got through but, maybe, by some slight chance, they may refer to it at times, perhaps even use it when they are parents themselves…. Best it be in writing because like I said, my memory stinks!! Oh, who am I kidding? I write it down as proof, proof that when something goes wrong, I can say that I offered the advice/expertise/guidance that they required but they so righteously ignored because they knew better! …. Let’s just call it my liability insurance. I try to tell them that life is full of lessons and even offer to share what I have learned.
For example, everyone has their heart broken at least once, just as you may cause heartache for another but, while it seems like the end of the world, it’s not. You know what they say (not sure who “they” is but….) “What’s meant to be…”
Heartache Lesson #1: I remember right after a breakup I was out to dinner with my family and the song Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue by Crystal Gayle came on…. I thought, “Wow, if only that could happen..if all this heartache ultimately resulted in my brown eyes turning blue well, …well, then I could get over it…“I thought, “Imagine me with blue eyes…yeah, that could definitely help me get over it!!” I know, you’re thinking “How shallow!” and I’d have to agree. This was supposedly the love of my life (although looking back, I now must release a humongous sigh of relief and thank the relationship gods for keeping me from a future in Neverland ~ you know, that place where no one ever grows up?! Sure, it sounds good, and it was okay for Peter Pan and the Lost Boys but, honestly!! Not that I had a choice, I just told you he didn‘t think he was good enough for (dumped) me. I guess blue eyes just wasn’t “meant to be”! (That’s funny because HE had gorgeous blue eyes too, and he knew it!)
Lately, however, I’ve been writing poems less often. Not because I haven’t had reason to, trust me I could write a series, a loooooong series, with no commercials … It’s just that I’m, I’m exhausted, when writing a poem you have to think more. I don’t know, like use symbolism, hidden meanings, creativity…..I don’t want to think …..
Now that blogs are popular, I thought to myself, I can do that!…..
A blog is sort of like an online diary. A person can use a blog to write about their life, their thoughts on something or even just to talk about the news.
That will be much easier, well not easier …….. More like freeing….. Blog…blob….ooze…. Letting go! Well, be warned, cause I’m about to blog/blob/ooze!!
I can see that it was just life happening. I was no different than anyone else, despite my parents telling me I was “special”…..We all go through our ups and downs, and (eventually) get through them (or just realize how ridiculous it was to begin with), despite doubting we ever will. (Although I do have to point out that I’m finding it a little harder getting through their teen years than my own, probably because I was such a perfect child…Right Ma?….Ma??)
Life happens, good and bad, hard and easy, happy and sad…..but life goes on and it is up to you to make the best of it ! Let’s pause a second, this seems like an appropriate time to remind you all to stop and think; think about others…you never know what is going on in other people’s lives on a daily basis; who‘s hurting or worried or tired. Use compassion and understanding in everything you do (I confess, I may not always do this myself, but I try)! There, I said it, my pitch toward peace and harmony. That feels good!
Okay, where was I? Right, my poetry. Since my spawn (one of the more endearing terms I use to describe my angels) could read, I have resorted to writing poems when the need arises…. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I talk to my children, well young adults, about EVERYTHING (like it or not)! In fact, I can say with complete confidence (okay maybe not complete but some confidence) that we have a very open and honest relationship of which I am very pleased and thankful. I am truly blessed. That’s not to say we don’t argue, we do, bulging veins and all, but, again, that’s a subject for a different blog. They will tell you that whenever I have them alone in the car, as soon as they hear the locks go down in the doors and the music go off they panic, dry heave, claw at the window, scream for help! Any or all of the above. See, this is the only time, they are my captive audience! -aside from the earphones dangling from one ear, the cell phone buzzing with texts, tweets and notifications (never “phone” calls, odd, huh?) and the occasional random blurt outs (okay more than occasional from SOS but that’s a whole different post, maybe a couple…..okay, several)…..
But, I can also see that, in between the sighing and the eye-rolling, they are listening (partially) and taking it all (about half) in…. it’s getting through to them! I’M getting through to them! True, they have no escape unless, of course, they are confident they can keep up with the 55 mph speed that the car is traveling when they open the door to jump out (ok, 80 mph, but who‘s counting? Oh you are Officer :/?) ….
Then there are those times when I feel a poem is necessary, if not to reiterate my point and ascertain that it got through but, maybe, by some slight chance, they may refer to it at times, perhaps even use it when they are parents themselves…. Best it be in writing because like I said, my memory stinks!! Oh, who am I kidding? I write it down as proof, proof that when something goes wrong, I can say that I offered the advice/expertise/guidance that they required but they so righteously ignored because they knew better! …. Let’s just call it my liability insurance. I try to tell them that life is full of lessons and even offer to share what I have learned.
For example, everyone has their heart broken at least once, just as you may cause heartache for another but, while it seems like the end of the world, it’s not. You know what they say (not sure who “they” is but….) “What’s meant to be…”
Heartache Lesson #1: I remember right after a breakup I was out to dinner with my family and the song Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue by Crystal Gayle came on…. I thought, “Wow, if only that could happen..if all this heartache ultimately resulted in my brown eyes turning blue well, …well, then I could get over it…“I thought, “Imagine me with blue eyes…yeah, that could definitely help me get over it!!” I know, you’re thinking “How shallow!” and I’d have to agree. This was supposedly the love of my life (although looking back, I now must release a humongous sigh of relief and thank the relationship gods for keeping me from a future in Neverland ~ you know, that place where no one ever grows up?! Sure, it sounds good, and it was okay for Peter Pan and the Lost Boys but, honestly!! Not that I had a choice, I just told you he didn‘t think he was good enough for (dumped) me. I guess blue eyes just wasn’t “meant to be”! (That’s funny because HE had gorgeous blue eyes too, and he knew it!)
Lately, however, I’ve been writing poems less often. Not because I haven’t had reason to, trust me I could write a series, a loooooong series, with no commercials … It’s just that I’m, I’m exhausted, when writing a poem you have to think more. I don’t know, like use symbolism, hidden meanings, creativity…..I don’t want to think …..
Now that blogs are popular, I thought to myself, I can do that!…..
A blog is sort of like an online diary. A person can use a blog to write about their life, their thoughts on something or even just to talk about the news.
That will be much easier, well not easier …….. More like freeing….. Blog…blob….ooze…. Letting go! Well, be warned, cause I’m about to blog/blob/ooze!!
Well, I've committed now.....must admit I'm a little excited, a lot nervous ...
ReplyDelete