I'm the ice. And I'm thin. Figuratively, just a bit. Because I had a colonoscopy last week (that's good for 3 or 4 pounds) and I've started back running this week. I had my personal best today. Two miles in 17.5 minutes. There's a reason for that, but that's another post. Five pounds in a week - not bad. Especially since I've put on ten this summer. Luckily, I'm not a stress eater. I'd be as big as a barn. Fortunately, when I get stressed, I lose my appetite. And when I'm frustrated or angry or anxious, I want to run. So I dig my dirty socks out of the laundry basket, search high and low for my running shoes, scrounge up some shorts and a jog bra and a top, find my MP3 and hope the battery is charged, debate about leaving my phone at home, find a water bottle, and hit the pavement.
Today, I was looking for a bracelet I lost yesterday. So instead of thinking about how much farther until the top of the hill, or how thirsty I was, or how much my legs hurt, I focused on finding my lost treasure. I didn't find it. But what I found was a revelation. I'm not sure what it was. Maybe this: Figure out what makes you happy. Don't run because you want to lose weight, or avoid a heart attack, or whatever the hell motivates you. Look for a treasure. This summer, when it was 190 degrees, I saw a squash plant growing on the curb. Crazy. A treasure. I meant to go dig it up and hope for squash, but I didn't follow through. So what. Daddy and I planted tomatoes and cucumbers and beans and peppers and we didn't get anything. But I wouldn't trade it for the world. I hate cliches, and it's so worn out, but there's so much truth in this: It's not the destination, it's the journey.
And what a journey I'm on. I couldn't have imagined my life a year ago. It's crazy. Hard. Painful. Beautiful. Rich. Perfect. Flawed. But most of all, real. Thick and rich and deep and delicious. I'm thinking bernaise. Wow, I think I'm a little hungry.
I've been searching for a long time. I've been questioning all the things I accepted as truth. Religion, politics, social conventions, but most of all, the meaning of life. I don't know the answer. I'm sure I never will. But what I know is that I have to find a way to reconcile my own satisfaction and happiness with the consequences of my behavior and the effect I have on the people I love. And I have to find a way to let go of the anger and bitterness that invade me by people who are insecure and hurting and just plain messed up. And to stop missing my mother so much. Every time I manage to make my daddy happy, I'm comforted. I'm following through on my promise to her to take care of him. She loved me and trusted me. And I've honored my promise to her.
So, at this very moment, I just want to paint and run and take care of Daddy and salvage my business relationships. I'm so blessed that my clients, for the most part, are compassionate and kind and patient. They're honest and direct and they're so intuitive that they can appreciate my gifts and see my limitations and be completely honest with me. I respect that so much.
Even though I've been an accountant and an auditor for most of my career, what I really want now is to take care of my daddy, to paint, garden, rent my other house, do a little wheeling and dealing for a select few clients, and maybe, if I'm lucky, find the love of my life. I'll be happy with four or five out of six. For now, blogging and painting comfort me.
Welcome to my world!
My life's been crazy since my Daddy moved in with me immediately after my mother's death in October 2010. My one and only kiddo headed to college at Carolina at the end of August. So...I lived on my own, for the first time in my life, for a total of a blissful six weeks. Then, I started the parenting gig with my dad. He's a combination of a grouchy old man, a surly teenager and a temperamental toddler. Needless to say, I get very close to the brink of insanity sometimes. I get through life by finding the humor in difficult circumstances. And for some reason, I wind up in the weirdest situations. I couldn't make this stuff up. So I wind up having lots and lots crazy adventures which make great stories to share with my friends. Writing about my life is so therapeutic. My ramblings range from funny to sad to angry (full of cuss words) to sweet. While my focus is dealing with the trials and tribulations of being a parent to my Daddy, I have lots of random, totally unrelated posts. Whatever's on my mind. I love to make people laugh, and I'm happy to think my readers will get my strange sense of humor. And maybe, people who are in my situation will be encouraged. That's all I can hope for...