Saturday, January 4, 2014

Goodbye and Good Riddance 2013

Somewhere amidst the flurry of wrapping up another nasty audit at work, drafting yet another novel to waste hard drive on the PC, adding a few K more of dead people to my family tree and gaining back all the weight I lost in 2011 there floats the wreckage of the rest of my life. I'm clinging to the mast, chipping off splinters to stab the soft noses of circling sharks and sticking my toes down frequently for the sweet feel of sand in the shallows. I know it's only a matter of time and once in awhile over the past 12 months of storms and doldrums I've hauled out to hang ten over the edge of my precarious perch. I'll do it again. Just let me get that second or fortieth wind.
There's a whole lotta flotsam and jetsam floating in my personal ocean, storm surges and ripple effects carried me and mine through water we never thought we'd cross and some of it - I'm not sure it was worth the tear induced migraines. I watched my dear son let go of the beautiful girl we thought he'd marry - a lesson in transience I never wanted him to learn and I am not sure if any of us are better for it. I'm always a proponent of "Happy Ever After" because that whole "Loved and Lost" bit is for those much less possessive and addictive than me. But the decision was his and hers and I have to respect their free will. I had to let him go a little in the process and my inner toddler is still face down on the floor screaming over that. When the man child informed me he was moving out in June - I burst into tears. It's better now. We moved the younger spawn into his room, painted, and I count hours between the weekly visits. I turned younger spawn's room into an office. I burn scented candles in my little space and draped some surfaces with girly scarves (the feminine human equivalent to peeing on the hydrant I suppose) Its no replacement for that blue eyed child who never refused to hug me and that ever present smile - but change is change and I'm attempting to do it gracefully (pfuh!)
A couple of months ago I finally got a diagnosis on why my feral heart behaves like a nerd at a dance party. Apparently I suffer from severe sleep apnea which means I stop breathing upwards of 47 times an hour on average. I've been on a CPAP machine for almost three months now and while I loathe the thing - I am noticing that my palpitations are less severe and I don't dread hauling out of bed in the morning. Whodathunkit? I wasn't falling asleep during the day. I was dog tired but I thought it was just my own inability to prioritize all the daily drudge - and I truly blamed hormones for the palpitations. I'm 48. Seemed like a no brainer. I still wake up a couple of times per night - mostly because the mask is something akin to a farting jellyfish on my face, it blows in my eyes and it's not conducive to any form of romance but the little monitor says I'm staying below 2 episodes per hour so I try to be tolerant.
I did start frequenting my old haunt at Writers Cafe this year and have returned to writing poetry. I participated in NANOWRIMO - hitting that 50k word mark well before the end of the day on November 30. Not sure what I'll do with the mess that is a first rough draft but at least its something.
And so this new year - I've determined to continue writing and that includes a return to blogging. I know I'll never be "interesting" again on the scale of Y360 but I find release in blabbering to a screen about my dismal day and sometimes when some one stops by and enjoys a good belly laugh - well that's better than marshmallows in my cocoa. I figure this and a diet and exercise regimen to try to get some of this regained flab will keep me busy over the new year - and there won't be much time for moody introspection and disappointment. Unless perhaps the younger spawn falls in love and moves out. Could happen. He's become an accomplished bass guitarist over the past year and graduated from High School. He has beautiful blue eyes and dark curly hair...Perhaps I need to shop today. For a large lock....for his bedroom door.