December 8, 2012

Chapter, Song, and Verse...Or Whatever That Saying Is...

First, I would like to say "You're welcome!" to the gentleman who drove past me and smiled as I was performing my personal rock concert in my car.  I was alone, a strange thing for me, and an old mix started playing in the CD player.  I started off strong with Liz Phair...But if you're tired of looking at my face, I guess I already am...(Divorce Song. Go now and listen to it.  You'll thank me, too!)  After some Union Station and Beth Hart, I finished with Purple Rain.  There was air guitar.  I might have been louder than the speakers.  Well, probably.  However, there is no way to quietly sing this song.  For the love, he only wanted to see her laughing in the purple rain. Sheesh.

So, that's how I rolled today.  Just me and my thoughts...alone for several hours in the car. Yep, me and my thoughts. (taps foot softly)

Yeah, so my thoughts are like a gaggle of preschoolers after about 12 boxes of Oreos with 72 ounces of chocolate milk chasers.  Anxiety makes your brain a little, um, fast sometimes.  My Better Half refers to it as Conversational Turrets because my brain jumps from one place to the next with no reason.  I counter, however, that it makes perfect sense to me and that's all that really matters.  I can explain the 6 degrees of separation between our vacation destination and getting a spanking in Kindergarten for spraying milk on my teacher.  (Vacation was in Florida where I also went for vacation when I was in third grade with my aunt and uncle who lived in Atlanta and my best friends used to go with me to visit because they had been my best friends since we were two when our dads got to be friends and we'd even been in school together since Kindergarten but I started school with one sister and on parent's day we had milk but the teacher couldn't get there fast enough because she was talking to another parent and ignoring me so I stabbed the milk with my fork because we still had those then and the milk was frothy from me jostling it so it sprayed all over the teacher who happened to FINALLY make it over to me.  See?  Perfect sense.  Might be a step more or less than six, though.)

I got to spend some quality time with my daddy the other day.  We took J to Shriners for a check-up.  All is well.  New braces for his legs are being made currently, and I eventually caved and let him get the ugly-ass 'Blue Snake' pattern.  Kids becoming independent sometimes blows.  All of a sudden they think they have a sense of fashion...but they don't, which is why I am looking at Hurricane C in her hot chocolate shirt and spring green capri pants. I digress.

On the way home, my pops and I talked about random things...just a casual conversation, really.  There were things we talked about, though, that I didn't know about him.  Parts of his childhood.  Why he's claustrophobic.  My nana.  He's always been my daddy, the fixer of all things broken:  cars, toys, air conditioners, stereos, hearts...whatever needed fixing.  It sort of dawned on me in that "duh" kinda way that I knew him as how I saw him, but less so as how he was shaped and molded into that person.  The stories that we all have about growing up?  Yeah, our parents have them, too.  Believe it or not, they are real live people who did things before they had kids.  Who knew?

That day was long.  The appointment was almost 3 hours behind and we didn't get home until after bedtime.  It was not one I'd like to repeat....except.  There will be a time when my daddy will be like my nana....a whisper in my ear, a voice I still hear clearly in my mind.  But he won't be here...HERE with me to share the stories of how he grew up and why he is, to me, the most wonderful daddy ever to bless the Earth and possibly several other planets.  I wouldn't trade those long days for anything in the world.  They gave me memories.

It's the time of year when we all rush around with our brains on overdrive.  I swear I don't know how we make it all happen, but shortly there will be gifts around the tree, food on the table, and lights galore.  We will head to church on Christmas Eve to sing and light the candles.  It's my favorite part of the tradition we have.  Plus, Hurricane C informed me Baby Jesus (you have to pronounce it "BaaayBee Jaysus". She's twangy.) needed a big birthday party and she was concerned he wouldn't have enough people show up so we had to go.  Bless her.  

If you are having one of those "oh, shit!" moments where you have no idea what to get someone, consider giving them some time.  Lunch.  A walk in the park.  Just time to talk, tell stories, and share a part of your life with them. Let them share their life with you. Turn off the cell phones, iwhatevers, and give them attention.  Look into their eyes, listen carefully to their words.  You'd be amazed.  Promise.  You're welcome.


  1. Very good! Me and Lisa took Mom to Biltmore Tuesday and we had a blast. We laughed so hard people probably thought we hit the winery first, but we didnt. We really enjoyed taking her she had wanted to go and we took a day off and spent time with her.

  2. Your words gave me cold chills and made me tear up. Those are really sweet words about your daddy. He'll be "tearing" up too, I bet. You are blessed and wise to listen to his words while he's hear.....I miss my mother and think of her every single day and she has been gone 6 years. Thank you, Tallye!