Placement

Have you ever had something perfectly placed or wedged into a space with other things to where it fit just right? Have you taken that thing out of its place only to have the other surrounding things fill/fall/collapse in the gap your thing left and when you go to try to put it back it won’t fit? You can try to hold/push/prop the other things up, but no matter how hard you labor your thing just doesn’t fit. If you do manage to get it back in place, it is a far cry from the neat placement your thing once held before.

My life: Trying to put myself into a place that neatly fit before, but doesn’t quite fit now.

It’s not a comfortable place – constantly wedging/pushing/propping/trying to find that perfect placement my mind has etched in memory.

Has the gap filled up or has my shape changed? Maybe a little of both.

Home

I am here -- In a new town that is actually an old town, but new because I am different than who I was when I left. I am sitting here waiting on the phone with some jazzy muzak provided by the phone company and wondering where the heck am I? I am in transition. I still feel like I should be going home to Sacramento and that I am just here visiting. Of course it’s a strange visiting feeling, because I have my couch, bed, cats, dishes, and all the other contents of my house. We still are in limbo. My stomach told me so… or at least my intestines. Of course that could be the diet of pizza for breakfast and lucky charms and beer (not mixed) for dinner. Last night we had our first real meal since moving. It was good. I also remembered how much I hate dishes (washing them).

Fathers Day was interesting. Good, but I missed my Papa. I have lots of dad issues, but I am pretty much ok with those and don’t have bad feelings towards my dad and other dad figures in my life. It was hard because the last time I lived here my Papa was alive and now I’m back and he’s not here. Strange feeling.

I also had an epiphany moment too. We have a little porch outside of our bedroom here and it looks out on the western mountain range, my favorite part of town. The mountains got me through so much growing up. It sounds weird but they did. Growing up, I would drive somewhere I could see them and look at the beauty of a sunset or the contrast of green against blue skies. It is the same place I could look at from my childhood home, it is the place I could look to try to figure things out and as I stood on the porch at sunset last night I could see the mountains and could smell the pine trees and the distant smell of the lake and manzanitas and I realized… I am home. That part of me never changed. The things I love and hated leaving are within my grasp and I’ve been afraid to embrace them. The things I wanted are not the same, but the core of me is still here. Older, wiser, more foolish. I don’t have to fit the mold of what I thought it would be like coming home.

Today is Numb

Today is numb. It is the last day of normal here at the house. Tonight we will break down our beds and get ready for the moving truck tomorrow. I’m not exactly numb completely, but a little cranky as well. I want to be left alone to savor my moments of sentiment and I can’t. First, the kids won’t let me. Second, I just have too ‘stinkin’ much to do. So I don’t even get to wallow and it pisses me off. Of course, I am feeling a little pressure too. Not only do I have a ton of moving stuff to do, but I have a paper for school to write. However, I seem to work better under pressure and shouldn’t have a problem getting it done, I would just like to feel like I have time to soak things up.

Timing is always funny to me. Sometimes things come along at what seems to be the wrong time or maybe not the best time. A couple of years ago, I wanted to move so badly. If in that moment someone told me we were going to move, I would have been falling over with joy. I still want to move, but now it’s in the midst of not feeling so desperate about it. I have expectations of how I should feel. I feel guilty for not being more excited and well… cheerleader-ish about the whole thing. I am finally going home and all I can do is walk around and smell the yard; stand in various corners of various rooms remembering where the Christmas tree was, where S and I sat by the fire talking, etc., and play moody music. The moody music part would happen either way. I always assign music to my experiences. When I left Redding I attached Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide”. For some reason (if you know the song you’ll probably scratch your head), the last couple of week’s I’ve felt like The Killers have captured my mood with “Mr. Brightside”. It’s about losing love, but it fits.

So off into my strange day…

My Song for Today

Dig My Heels
from the album "Direct"

You can hear a clip here:
http://www.seventysevens.com/77sindexfws.html

(Mike Roe/Mark Harmon/Bruce Spencer)


we’re here together
sharing pieces of what we found
under the weather
like a hurricane year ‘round
winds of change were blowing
but we did not hear the sound
now all is lost
and I’m needing to be found

i dig my heels in
i’m gonna hold out
i dig in now

we’ve seen each other
through the changes that have come
this understanding
is like a game that’s never won
like a siege unending
till our hearts have come undone
when all is lost and gone
and I’m needing to run

i dig my heels in
i’m gonna hold out
i dig in now

(repeat chorus)

don’t wander too long
if you’ll be stayin’ on
when I’m dug on down
i am standing, I am strong
don’t lose sight of us
if you can hear my voice
it could be dangerous
and you may not have a choice

i dig my heels in
i’m gonna hold out
i dig in now

(repeat chorus x2)

© 2002 Fools Of The World, LTD. (ASCAP)

Saying Goodbye

Those who have been in our lives over the last 10 years, have probably been exposed to short goodbyes from us. One minute we're here, the next we're gone. In a way it has been easier for me. This time is no different. We are on the move again, but this time the destination is where we started. Have you ever wanted something for so long, when you finally get it, you start to wonder if the act of "wanting something" was greater than the actual thing?

I am so excited to be going home, but it's not the same as what I thought it would be. The fact is: I don't "need" to be there anymore. When I left, I measured everything by my "home" standards. Church, houses, people. Now I am coming home with my own ideas, my own family, my own thoughts about church and it's probably to the shock of those we left behind. I am not going home to tout my new self and alienate people, but rather coming home a person connected to who I really am. Sure, still a mess --but really me this time.

Besides my homecoming, is saying goodbye to our first house. I love our house. We have put so much work into this little house. The yard we landscaped from nothing, and our children were born here (actually at the hospital). I have laughed, cried, became a mom, left the institutional church, re-discovered who I am to God, returned to school and dreamed about the future all while at this haven. I am tragically sentimental.. I remember smells, colors, weather, feelings and everything under the sun. I attach memories to everything.

***To this day whenever I make a certain chicken marinade I remember a church baptism at Coyote Point with HCWB and COB (I love you guys like marinade, wow). ***

While there were certainly challenging times here, I don't have any "bad memories" in this home. A stark difference from growing up. My memories and feelings are so powerful that sometimes I feel like I am mis-understood and a little corny. I start to think that something went wrong in my wiring. I know it's not true, but it is a little tricky to articulate how the smell of a BBQ brings a sense of relief to me. It's a trail of memories and feelings.

So... On this day of realizing we are actually moving and leaving this place behind, I am frantically trying to categorize all my memories of this place. Storing each thought, sound, smell etc. (I recently watched a movie that reminded me of my nature to connect with my past: Everything is Illuminated with Elijah Wood. You can see the preview at www.netflix.com.)

I am also reflecting on where I have been and how much I miss and will continue to miss some of my closest friends. Friends who have gone deeper than any I had when I left. I have always felt torn between returning to my family and staying close to you. In the end I choose to return, but have always felt the pain of leaving my "extended family". You know who you are: the people I feel safe to fart in front of, the people who tell me when have a bugger in my nose, the people who cry with you, and most of all, the people who let you go when you want to and love you still.

I will continue to jump all over the map in the coming weeks, but for me it's all a part of my process. I hope to come out a little less tangled in the end.