52.......

As those of you who have been here awhile know, turning 52 years old had me a little unnerved. It’s the age my mother died. 

In July, I will be exactly the age she was.

For some odd reason, my husband recently commented.... “ We’re almost done” it was in reference to someone famous dying and their age. You know how you keep thinking of famous people as the age they were when they were super famous and then they die and they are 75 and your brain goes.. Whoa!! What the fuck??? I’m aging too!! So, ya, I guess it was like that but it got me thinking.

I’ve been super nervous for two years about turning 52. Like, irrationally nervous. But then guess what I did for my 52nd birthday? Nothing. I was in lockdown in the oldest son’s home! Because there’s a pandemic. A fucking pandemic in 2020. It’s actually kind of funny, I mean, I can see the humor in it... Oh, you’re afraid today, wait until a lockdown is declared on your birthday!! LoL!! That’s really gonna fuck with you!!

But something else came to my mind as well when my husband made that comment...

It’s true. And, me, who has never felt old, has begun to feel nervous about dying. Like... a lot nervous... so much so that I’m questioning everything..... What have I left the world? What will people say about me? Out of all the religions in the world does it really matter which one you choose? Are they all the same destination on different paths? Or... is there nothing? And if there is nothing then what is the point? If I believed in nothing then I would have committed suicide a long time ago. I know, that was really honest. If I was an atheist then I’d have no hope of ever seeing loved ones again and therefore when they died it would feel like even more of a loss and a deep black loneliness. My mind doesn’t work like that of an atheist and I’m glad about that. Even if it’s a placebo, my life doesn’t feel purposeless like it would without faith that this isn’t it. 

The last conversation my dad and I had I told him that I was in the dark black water of depression. Weaning off a medication which chemically sets your brain up to fail, adding a new medication, like I am, can cause the same problem. Chemicals in the brain... bouncing around trying to jump start but sparking instead. 

He listened. He understands when I talk to him about the darkness and he tells me to hold on and wait it out. Cry if you need to, sleep if you need too.....

Then I said, “In three days I’ll be the age mom was when she died”

He said that that doesn’t mean anything.. look at him, for example, he’d lived passed the age his own dad was and then he stopped and said “oops, maybe not quite”

52

My dad died when I turned 52.  

Tracy 

Thursday...

So,

Hi, how are ya?

I’m grumpy. I can’t help it. 

This is going to be a little all over, which I suppose that these usually are....

I bought two gold necklaces (PS:why are Herringbone necklaces back in style? They kink. Not going down that road again) one is a delicate circle connecting to the chain on either side. It’s called a) witches moon or an b) infinity circle and then I bought one with a flat rectangular pendant with my initial. They are for layering and I love them. They are bringing me joy. Both hand made from Etsy and also two very delicate thumb rings to layer on my right thumb.

Please keep me away from the computer... although, these particular items were bought with my kid’s money from Mother’s Day. 

I’m taking a break from social media, except Instagram which I like to look through for all kinds of interesting pictures. I just can not. Can👏🏻not👏🏻 read about Covid-19, Trump and his sundowner bullshit, politics of any kind ( it’s really making me angry and I don’t like feeling angry) people who actually don’t understand what the 1st amendment means but can recite the 2nd amendment to you backwards, people who think wearing a mask is infringing on their “rights” to kill me or my micro premie grandson or my dad, people who think Costco is infringing on their rights when they are told to wear a mask but think it’s a-ok if Costco refused to make a wedding cake for a gay couple ( by the way, both are the rights of a privately owned company, whether you like it or not) and people... just people.

I need a break. I can only post “You’re such a fucking donkey anus” so many times before it stops feeling like a hug and starts feeling like there are too many loudmouth crazy Aunt Karen’s in the world to explain the 1st amendment to.

My baby boy grandson recognizes me on FaceTime and we have a “thing” that we do when he sees me, runs over yelling ( he yells everything that comes out of his mouth) gamma!!!! And motorboats! I am not lying when I tell you that I never ever wanted grandkids. I’ve been parenting for over 35 years..... but it’s really the best thing I’ve ever felt. Pure Joy. Pure Love. No expectations. Just me and him meowing back and forth for five minutes like we are cats and that’s all. I don’t need him to call me by 11pm. I don’t need him to promise me anything. I don’t need him to fill some empty hole in my heart or heal old wounds. I just want him to be.

And Madison’s kids, omg. My heart. I love them like they are mine. I love being a Gigi who is loved just for ringing FaceTime and using the pig face or the unicorn or the tiger and saying stupid shit that makes them belly laugh and my Mimi says “ Gigi, you my best fwiend”

And here comes another one. I dug up pregnancy photos of me with my girls. Ah, my God. What an amazing gift we are given, women, I mean. So holy and miraculous and ancient and universal and the entire future of the world is wrapped up in our bellies. Gorgeous. I love it.

My doctor wouldn’t call in my medicine for a week. 

My least favorite profession is doctors. They are arrogant, self involved, narcissistic, know it alls who simply guess. They start at the least possible issue and then guess their way from there. In this day and age of the immense amount of information we can look up for ourselves, the published articles from leading hospitals, scientists and real geniuses... puts us in a uniquely more qualified position than a doctor who stopped learning the day he got his degree. If you care enough about your body, if you use your intelligence and intuition, if you notice when something is off and become an expert in your learning, you can spot when and where it started. That first twinge of... this is wrong, what has changed in my habits? In my medications? In my food? You can know what is wrong with your own body because it is your👏🏻own👏🏻body👏🏻 no one knows it better than you. I need a doctor to prescribe me medications and this fuck couldn’t manage that one thing. 

Robb and I have been working on a podcast for weeks. I’ve studied and studied and I just don’t care. :-) every once in awhile comes a subject that I get a weird vibe from. Aleister Crowley, called they most evil man to ever live. After three months of planning a podcast, scheduling it, canceling it, rinse and repeat I finally said “ you can have this one. My gut doesn’t like it” we never did it.

This last one HH Holmes. Nope. There are some people just born with a thing. A thing in their brain that infects those around them and even after they die, I just don’t want it. I finally gave it to Robb and he said no. So, there ya go! 

That’s two out of 800? That’s pretty good!!

Song: The Night We Met BY: Lord Huron

Take me back to the night we met

And then I can tell myself

What the hell I'm supposed to do

Because I’m a Pisces, I’m a day dreamer. I’m the sign with the imagination. The wonder and the wander lust..... off in my brain are stories and true events that swirl around like smoke rising from a tobacco pipe on a cold winter night.... and I relive moments over and over and over until they are etched into my brain and then I dissect them and wonder.... If.... If I’d said, done.... if they’d said or done.....

I am writing a book about my life and my concept is what I would say to me at pivotal times in my life.... wishing that I could see and hear future me hold my face in my hands and wipe away a tear or hug or congratulate.

I love that this song, this line, gets that!! That someone else besides me thinks that way!

And then I can tell myself

What the hell I'm supposed to do

And then I can tell myself

Not to ride along with you

I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

This bittersweet lyric. I’d tell myself not to ride with you....

Not because he regrets it but because it grabbed him and stole him. The lines... I had all and then most of you some and now none of you...

His loss. That pain and if he could only go back in time, would he save himself that pain?

He doesn’t know....

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you.....

That is a great something that we can hold two opinions of... Having you... not having you.... Haunted by the ghost of you, is one of the most beautiful and fundamentally painful aspects of losing a love.

It’s gorgeous, the music is haunting and makes my eyes well up. It really is wonderful.

Ok, Luvs and Bears ( The doctors probably left ) I have a deeper thought process planned for tomorrow’s blog. Buckle up. She’s going down the rabbit hole and taking you with her. Bring a snack... bottle of wine? Sweet red, please.

Night.

And then there is this one....

Older

I can tell by the things that I get excited about that I must be getting older!

1 I bought a set of drapes for our room, the sun literally beams in between the blinds and right into my face, so they are heavy grey velvet that are about nine ft tall and so soft, so beautiful but I wanted the softness to contrast with the rod so we bought kitchen/bathroom pipes and turned them into the rod so through the tops of the drapes the silver colored pipes peak out with their texture and then the pipe ends are drilled into either side of the window and I LOVE the shiny with the soft but heavy feel of the drapes and pipes. It only took me... 358 days to do that.

I love love the huge umbrella on the balcony!!! It just feels so European with the bits here and there and my paintings. A 6 ft lit cherry blossom tree. A pipe lamp with a yellow Edison bulb. 

I ordered a leather ottoman with steel rivets but the top is tufted so again a soft and rugged touch. I’m moving my trunks which I’ve used in that space to different parts of the house. Getting rid of a tall bookshelf that I loved in a “regular” apartment but I hate it here. It’s right in my line of vision and everyone likes it but I don’t. I want minimalism or items with more than one use. A surprise in a functional piece. A bookshelf is NOT that. 

Anyway.... that’s what’s going through my brain today.

Yesterday we met OM 1/2 way, grabbed some burgers and tailgated about 8 ft apart. I’m missing her pregnancy and, ugh! So frustrating!! We had a great time.   I needed it.

I have a kidney infection.... I know! I’m shocked as well!! I’m taking a hit on this one. I’m done. So over it. 

  I haven’t written a story since the 12th of March. My brain can’t work since my father died. I wrote a couple of stories and que’d them and then went to the Boy’s house and then two days later my dad passed.

The gears won’t work. I can’t write spooky or scary or about dying or anything grey. I have started, lots of stories, and then put them in my “unfinished” folder. 

So I’ve been doing more.... Fluffy..... type topics.

My dad’s wife sent me an email and said that she picked a silver locket to remember him by.

Let me ask you..... Does that sound like I’m going to get ashes in there or.... No?

I want some ashes and a couple, two exactly, items of my dad’s and I don’t know how to ask and be like.... Remember those things I asked for and when I said I’d like some ashes, ya, sorry to bother you, my bad, uh.... can I maybe get those things, please, when you can, no rush....

What are these rules????? 

So, since I’ve been unable to paint for reasons beyond not having paint, since I do have paint now, I decided to snag a lyric or two from my favorite songs and maybe explain why I’m drawn to it. K??

This song... this album I tore to shreds. There are songs that make you think.... I could have written this and once in a blue moon there are albums, entire albums, that make you feel like someone has had entry to your mind and spilled out your insides... for me that’s been Pink/Funhouse

Alanis Morissette/ Jagged Little Pill

Bonnie Raitt/Luck of the Draw

Garth Brooks/The Hits

There’s probably more but let’s move on to:

Pink:

Glitter in The Air:

Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone?

Your whole life waiting on the ring to prove you're not alone

If you’ve never shook your head yes to these lyrics. God Bless ya. I love “ your whole life waiting on the ring to prove you’re not alone” 

Heartbreaking and insightful.

Have you ever wished for an endless night?

Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight?

Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself

Will it ever get better than tonight? 

If you have never thought this, my heart breaks for you. THIS is my favorite feeling in life...... one of them anyway.... Top Four!

Ok, night luvs.

Tracy

Here we are.... Yup, typed on my phone...

Here we go......

Things that make me happy-ish

1)Sonic ice. Not gonna lie. I eat about........ 2lbs of ice per day.

I’ll wait.......

I know!! It’s called Anemia!! Or rather... Pica, be glad that I’m not munching on the couch.... I almost wrote, carpet, but my 15 year old self laughed to hard and that’s when I knew I should change it.

2)My Embr wave! Keeps you warm on the inside and cool on the out! Yummy!! Actually, if you have one of these, quick tip that took me a week to figure out..... you can break the “rules.” If you use the cool selection on the inside of your wrists, you know, like the directions say, it can BURN your delicate wrist skin when the unit heats up to power the .... coolness..... I know, like a tiny little gerbal is inside and his wheel is just barely scraping the wall as he runs his little legs off... ouch!!

Put it on the other side of your wrist like a watch and turn that frown upside down! You’re welcome! I figured that out all by my little self and in a month or so that skin graft should be all healed up........( it’s a joke. Don’t sue me Embr... but seriously, cool that fucker down, will ya?)

1. Thieves oil simmering or in a diffuser. Seriously, I can’t breathe without it now. 

1. Etsy. I LOVE Jo Malone Orange Blossom perfume. I’ve said this before, I love to spritz a little in the air to help me fall asleep. World’s most expensive stress release. And on Etsy there is a store based in California that is NOT cheap but!!!! I think their orange blossom smells better than JM!!!! This is my youngest boys favorite scent as well and makes him sleepy. I had him smell this dupe ( duplicate) and HE likes it better too!!! Nice find!!!

1. I got paint!!!! My husband bought all the last of the delivery because he was there late and it was still only about 15 bottles!!

1. lockdown and creativity. I’ve been making my own butter with honey, garlic, herbs, cheese and it’s fantastic!! Plus I mean I shake the shit out of cream in a jar until it becomes butter. I love this!! And, we’ve been making our own essential oils and using them to make.... soap!! Wtf?? Also just as essential oils. It’s relaxing and experimenting is fun and thoughtful and smells pretty damn nice. I’ve been thinking of selling them at the farmers market when we get one back.

1. Small small tiny world. So I post something on Facebook and it must have been set to public for some reason because I get a comment from someone directly out of my past and I was shocked.

I’ll see if you can guess..... it said “Hey, hope this is you. I’m (name) name’s brother. Heard he missed his shot. Hope you’re well. I’ll tell ( brother’s name) hello from you. Let’s catch up.

It was Rob’s brother, the Rob who i met on the phone when I was 14 and he was 15. The Rob who I broke his heart when I became pregnant with the oldest boy and the Rob who came to ask me to Mary him but I was married and five months pregnant with OM.

It’s soooooo weird how life is like the infinity 8 sign and how two people can cross again in the middle just out of nowhere. Life is surprising.

1. Hey Dude shoes. I hate to wear shoes. I hate to wear socks. I hate my feet feeling tight AT ALL. The frigging adorable Doc’s I got last year? I need them stretched on the top of my foot.... Hey Dudes, not super attractive. Not super adorable.... I forget I have them on. Love them!!! 
2. the cafe umbrella we bought for the balcony. It’s 9ft across and keeps the house, probable 15 degrees cooler, maybe more, in the living room when the sun beats down onto the balcony doors with the heat of a thousand beams of light. I was actually cold in the house on a 90 degree day!
3. lots of Netflix and Amazon video stuff but I’m so tired. I’ll get back to that.

My daughter is in the hospital 7 weeks early with pre-eclampsia. I had it with her too so I guess her odds increased. Hoping to keep that baby boy in there for a bit longer!!

Night!!

Me

Took the previous post down

My bad.

It’s just too..... dark.

I don’t want it.

I want something that brings in light.

Working on that one now.

Oh, I don’t know...

Just a few things.....

I am trying so so hard to not type what I think on every social media platform ever.

I’m biting my tongue every single day and trying not to berate anti-science/pro-trumpers who, don’t want to use a mask or stay inside, carry signs reading MY BODY MY CHOICE ...... I certainly agree, my intellectually challenged .... fellow human. Glad we can agree.... No no take backs. You said it. My body my choice. Now scooch along....

I’m really trying not to say, Becky, Sweetheart, fuck your fake nails ok, and Karen, Honey, Fuck you and you’re “need” to shop at Ross... Ross??? Honey, we know you, we know you got that rip off “Michael Kerrs” at Ross, no need to rush. That wasn’t last season’s bag, sugar, it’s never been a season’s bag. Sit the fuck on your couch, Girl.

I’m fixin to let my Southern fly!

For some very odd reason my, admittedly, southern twang bit I’ve picked up, turns straight into Southern Bell on a hot streak when I’m mad. I’m not saying that I hate it, it’s just weird.

I really do envy the type of person who thinks this is a gubernment hoax, the second impeachment, just fuck that Science bullshit, I believe that God will protect me, Amen!(dry cough.) 

I do. I wish I could bury my head in the sand and make my vision of current life just Be Gone! I’m sick of staying in the house! I need a haircut! In the name of banishing my boredom, I hear-by declare this virus thing OVER! Done! Fun while it lasted! Ran out of memes! Let Freedom Ring!!! And Guns and Bibles too, Amen!

I wish I was a Sit Down Restaurant Patriot.

But......... I’ll die so, I’m gonna look for the end of the Internet instead.

And furthermore, please, please, tell me why 9x’s out of 10, my finger pad thing on my laptop doesn’t recognize my finger? My phone can recognize my face peeking out of the covers but my finger? Nope.

I actually do need to get out of the house though.......

Mother’s Day. The first day since my dad passed that I KNOW I missed a call from him. He always called me on Mother’s Day......

How soon is too soon to ask for the portion of ashes they are supposed to send to me?

I don’t know about the etiquette of these things. 

Gotta go

Me

Diving in....

Ok....

Let’s get deep.

I watched a Netflix documentary about Darrell Hammond and it knocked my socks off. 

He was abused by his mother. His mother who on the outside, to everyone else, seemed.... “normal” but to him was his worst nightmare.

He makes these two quotes:

1. “The issues are in the tissues. Every Tom Dick or Harry who ever did you wrong is still in there.”

    I thought.... holy shit! Thank you. Yes. Yes. That is the root. Why has nobody ever said that out loud before? Or why haven’t I heard that before? 

You go through your life picking up this shard and that shard and this shard and that and before you know it, you know and remember the time, the place and the person who dropped every single shard that have become your bones. They are now what hold you up. They make up your story, they come rushing in uninvited, they drift in with a smell, a song or a taste. Sharp. Always sharp.

But as I was thinking that. As I’m thinking that I can remember back to 2.5 years old and seeing my father beat my mother or even further back as my hands were red and cracked and they burned. Swollen. So much pain. I sucked my hands as a infant and I remember holding on to chairs at a table, helping my infant legs to stand up and wobble around from person to person( they were playing cards) and crying. Crying from one person to the next. My hands were burning, probably infected really, and they laughed. 

My mother went somewhere and came back with something and placed it all over my tiny infant hands. “she’ll stop doing that now” 

I wobbled to a playpen just over there. Just one, maybe two steps, let go of the chair at the end of one step and stumble, grab the playpen for the next. I instinctively put my hand in my mouth and it stung. It was bitter and harsh and had an unfamiliar taste. I drooled. Just opened my mouth and let it pour out. The adults laughed. Cigarette smoke swirling around their heads. She’d put anti-nail biting stuff all over my hands to teach me to stop.

It didn’t work. The taste would go away.

Then she told me that she’d buy me a toy if I stopped. 

I stopped that day.

The entire first part of the story is the most prominent in my mind. BETRAYAL.

The next quote was by a doctor who said that it’s incorrect to call people who have lasting results from child abuse, any abuse, really, that cause them to have anxiety, depression, personality disorders etc, “mentally ill” or that they have a “ mental illness” because the reality is that they have a mental injury.

Mental injury.

Science shows that the brains of the abused looks different on an MRI or CT scan. That there are dark parts in one lobe that are lit up in another. That abused children lose something in the process of trying to escape reality. The reality they live.

Several years ago I made a choice, with absolute intention, to confront one of my largest splinters.

The time came when my gut said.... “Baby Girl, it’s either now or never. Get to stepping”

And I did. A little over a year later a splinter called me and as I listened to the voicemail in the dark hotel room I had a reaction that I hadn’t seen coming. I.... froze.... at the sound of the voice..... flashes of splinters came fast and furious. I played it over and over as my spine was straight up, my shoulders pulled in to almost, hide myself. Tears ran down my cheeks as my stomach churned. These memories of touches and words and hands and moving quickly, having to “joke” it away... up against a sink, a refrigerator.....In that chair I felt 30 years younger. 

But!! Out of that came the strangest outcome... I confronted it. Not to him personally for the most part, but to someone that I desperately needed to feel protected by.

And it was gone. Within days it was gone. Not like I’ll forget and skip down the lane, but like it wasn’t poking me every single day. That I could skip a day or two or more. That I could unwrap my arms from around myself and be open....

And that’s when my brain started unlocking things from my childhood tiny bits at a time. A flash here a flash there. My brain... the one that locks it into a box, puts in a safe and throws it into the ocean.... was releasing events, actions, from childhood up through adulthood that involved my mother. Tiny bits. Little puzzles. 

So, two years ago when I sat my dad down in that hotel bar I got to ask.... who was the man who gave me a dollar at some nasty hotel and had me take my two year old brother to the ice cream truck “ don’t come back for awhile. You understand, kiddo?”

And I learned of the affairs, the prostitution, the suicide attempts, the person she was. A predator. Not an injured child.... well, that too, but take a fucking number, right? We have choices to make. Be a fuck up and blame the mental injury or have a mental injury and get the fuck on with life. Make a few mistakes. Learn from them. Do the work. Take the time you need. Grow. Be quirky and cuss like a sailor, love hard and forever, be the best friend, find a bear if you’re lucky and be grateful that you did because not everyone does. Be silly and spontaneous and laugh until you cry and remember this.....

There weren’t only splinters. There was kindness and praise and softness and hugs and nervous hand holding and car rides and sweet words and rainbows and sledding and first kisses and birthed babies and dancing and playing the air guitar and drums while at a stoplight and New Orleans and cotton candy and deep conversations and late nights and the 80’s, yes the👏🏻Entire👏🏻1980’s👏🏻 And kittens and the warm feeling of a drink going down your throat and Christmas and sloppy baby kisses and pulling all the meat out of a crab leg in one piece!!!! Yes!!! And, forehead kisses and eyelash wishes, and many many things that can soothe the points of a splinter.

Oh! And cattails! Those are pretty fucking cool.

Watch it on Netflix. It’s really insightful. 

Me

      

I’m sick.

I have a blog nearly written but I’m sick.

I’ll publish it soon

Well, bless your heart, Darlin’

Where to start......

At the end of this.... Now, I saw you starting to scroll down... stop that. I’ll have an update to a question I get one trillion times per month.

My sinuses have become addicted to Thieves Oil..... Or the humidity in the air from simmering it. I wake up and I can’t breathe or smell through my nose until the thieves is put on. When we can get out I’m going to have to attend some type of herbal oils addiction group.

I had an appointment with my psychiatrist on FaceTime a couple of days ago. I always thought that it was the actual... going... to a doctor that caused me anxiety but it’s apparently the actual speaking to the doctor that makes me want to call out from inside my shell. She’s very nice and I suppose if she can’t handle anxiety that she’s got no business being a psychiatrist. I told her that I bought an Embr Wa-ve to see if it helps my new best bud, Panic attack, cold helps and sometimes warm helps, anyway she’d never heard of the product which you wear on your wrist, lots of my menopause friends told me that it works great for panic attacks, so I told her all about it, she wrote the info down and says that she’s going to get one..... I’m sending her a bill for my time.

The other night I was doing research for a video when my mind wandered off, as it does, you know us creative types, and I began planning for my dad’s stay in the fall when he comes to meet the new grand baby. I was thinking about him using the boy’s room and how the pool will still be open and the clubhouse, pool table, sports tv... I needed to check at some point about what snacks he’d want and what meals and.......

It hit me like a ton of bricks.

I sat there, staring in the direction of the wall, my eyes not seeing anything in front of me. My ears ringing. My face feeling flush.... just staring. My breathing heavy and quick....

My husband asked “ Are you ok?” I heard it in the distance.... “Hey, you ok?”, my son turns around and looks, catching the alarm in his dad’s tone.

I turned my head and whispered, 

“My dad is dead”

I know, he said softly, my son understanding, reached for my hand...

“No, no, I mean.... my dad is DEAD”

“yes, he is” he said

“But, he won’t be coming in the fall. He won’t meet Lincoln. I’ll never see him again”

It’s the worst when it takes you off guard. 

Have I talked to my brother?????

Kind of.

His... Let’s just call her wife so the story is shorter.... sent me a message on Facebook book. This is what it read:

Hey, Tra-cy, who died?

I thought that was touching, how about you? Maybe a touch too sentimental?

I asked if my brother asked her to ask me and she snapped back with the kind of crazy that suits my brother and to make a medium story short, I didn’t tell her because he obviously knows. What he really wants to know is anything about a will, which is laughable, she told me that he may or may not call me... up to him..... and that, my friends, flicked a switch in my brain so I wrote back the following and blocked her. 

“No. This situation is a family matter. He’s not welcome into family matters. He made a choice. It’s his to own. Do not call any of us. You’re not wanted.” 

That should have been done 30 years ago. My life is so calm and drama free without him. My grandkids won’t learn to hide their birthday money or be taken to a drug deal or have their medication stolen and sold. I’m proud of myself. He literally drove any feelings for him away. I do love that protective shield sometimes. 

So there you go. 

One last thing.... I’ve been feeling.... Better!!! Shhh don’t jinx it :-)

Love,

Me