Desperate Love

I recently finished reading Shelter Me by Juliette Fay. MAN, what a heartbreaking, beautiful, enthralling story that was. I emphasize the heartbreaking; I recommend the read, but go in knowing it's gut-wrenching in spots...which isn't much of a surprise if you read the premise blurb on the back.

One thing I particularly related to is that the main character, when faced with one of the most crushing experiences life has to offer (the loss of a spouse - again, not a spoiler - it's the book's premise), reacts with rage. She is pissed, and she's not afraid to let those around her know it. And I have a sneaking suspicion that in her shoes, I would probably mirror her biting sarcasm. Hope to God we never find out, because the people in her life are way, way more patient with it than those in mine would ever be.

Anyway, there is one line in particular that really stuck with me. "A parent's love is the most desperate thing there is." That line....it's just so true. That is precisely the way I feel. I love B desperately. I worry for him and hope for him and crave his love in return in a much more urgent and needy way than I ever did with another adult. It's kind of hard to explain, but that line captures it as well as anything I've seen.

Thoughts...

I remember so well how, when I was single and hadn't yet met E, I was so utterly fascinated by people in relationships. I just never really got how they worked. I never was much of a long-term relationship girl before E, so I remember being genuinely fascinated with how relationships worked. I would watch people and just wonder what it was like to know how that whole process worked. I would watch couples interact and wonder, "Will that ever be me?" And, deep down, I knew E was out there. I could feel him out there, waiting for me, just like I was waiting for him. But there was another part of me that doubted. There was the part of me who wondered how, when I truly didn't understand that relationship "thing" how I could ever be part of one.

I've noticed recently that I do the same thing with people who are in careers about which they truly feel passionate. I drink them up the way I used to drink up romance. I am so fascinated by how they got to that place. How did they KNOW? And of course, "Will that ever be me?" Will I ever find that thing that fills me with passion? I think I will. I'm a fairly passionate person, so I do think there's something out there that will excite me and fulfill me professionally the way my relationship with E and my motherhood of B do personally. I do. It's just hard to conceptualize right now. But if I learned anything from the development of my personal life, it was not to doubt that that magical thing will come together, if that makes sense.

Meanwhile, happy Valentine's Day, E!

Progress Report

I'm a more positive person than I was a year ago. Sure, I'm still neurotic as hell and I should probably be prescribed anti-anxiety meds, and I'm sure that seems counter to the idea of being a positive person, but it's true that I am. 2009 was a really difficult year. Not that I suffered any great personal tragedy - only vicarious ones, although too many of those, but it was one of those personal growth type years that are just kind of agonizing to get through. I learned an enormous amount about myself, including the fact that I did have reserves to get through another difficult year, even though I thought I'd burned through all my reserves in 2008. Things started to turn around late in 2009, though. E got that new job, my job turned a corner toward...less miserable, at any rate. What does all this portend for 2010? How could I possibly know that right now? What I do know is that E and I prayed and Secret-ed for a bunch of stuff over the course of 2009 and by the end of the year, a lot of it was coming to fruition. And that'll really restore a girl's faith.

All that said, I hardly think I'm complete. I'm certainly a work in progress. I still worry. I still walk around with a pit in my stomach like 85% of the time. I still get hurt feelings over things I shouldn't take personally, but do. I still feel resentful when I feel like I'm giving more than I'm getting. And all of these things mean that staying positive takes active effort on my part. And I still need to figure out precisely what it is that I want, in some areas of my life, because how can I hope for something if I'm not even sure what it is, am I right? Sigh. Life's the journey, right? Yea.

Sorry this post is a bit of a brain dump. I've got work to get started on and needed to clear the rubble, a bit.

Happy Groundhog Day. SPOILER ALERT: there are six more weeks of winter.

A Thank You

As I've probably mentioned here at some point previously (or some pointS, knowing me), my first job out of college was as an English teacher at a boarding school for kids with ADD and ADHD. One of the students I taught there really got under my skin. Actually, several of them did, but there was one in particular who drove me right up a wall. Not that I didn't like him - I did, but he was infuriating in his absolute refusal to follow any sort of instruction or to live up to his potential in any way. He was almost certainly among the smartest students I taught, but he would have been damned before letting on to anyone, most of the time.

The one exception, the one time he opened his mind and showed me its beauty and power, was when we read The Catcher in the Rye. He started off by saying, "I like this book. I like Holden. I can relate." And from there, he went on to offer some truly insightful commentary on the novel, and his theories on Salinger's thought process. It was probably the most amazing and triumphant moment I had as a teacher.

Much like Holden Caulfield, this boy let his alienation and angst get the best of him and ended up getting himself booted from the school. I never heard from him again and I have no idea what became of him. I hope it's something good. But for that one unit, I felt like I was getting somewhere with him, and I knew enough about his background to know he needed that. So, I like to hope that wherever he is, he has positive memories of learning, thanks to JD Salinger's brilliance. And I hope that JD Salinger has finally achieved peace from his own angst tonight.

Conflicted

I feel conflicted about the Senate election that just went to Scott Brown here in MA. I'm still registered in New Hampshire because that is our permanent address, so I didn't vote, and I'm kind of grateful that I couldn't because I didn't really feel comfortable with my options. Martha Coakley did some things as DA and AG that didn't sit well with me, as a voter. And I feel like she threw the election away by being out of touch (calling Curt Schilling a Yankees fan, misspelling the name of the state...). Meanwhile, Scott Brown wants to make IVF non-mandatory for insurance coverage in MA, which frankly enrages me. (It is currently covered.) The third option, Joe Kennedy, received 1% of the vote. So.

And a lot of people on the conservative side of the aisle are taking this election as a referendum on Obama's presidency. And while I do think that is probably part of what happened, I think theres much more to it than that. Americans voted Obama in in 2008 because they were unhappy with the way things were going and they wanted change. And I think that's still coming into play now. This election wasn't a rejection of the Democratic party as much as it was a rejection of the way things have been going. That's just one woman's opinion.

New Year's Resolutions?

I understand the instinct to make New Year's resolutions. You come to the end of one year and the beginning of the next, and it feels like the time to re-set a variety of things in your life. That makes sense to me. Even for people like me, who truly, madly, deeply love the holiday season, it's an exhausting time when you tend to let a lot of the little things slide in favor of the madness. You get busy. If you're like me and work for a financial institution, you get busy at work, as well as at life in general. You likely don't get enough sleep, you're likely spending money like a fiend, you're running yourself ragged in a million different ways. And then, snap! It's over. And you're left with a feeling that you want to get things back in order. So...you make resolutions. They might be quite lofty, or they might be mundane and simple.

Either way, here's the thing about resolutions. They...don't last. I mean, I'm sure I could come up with examples of people who've successfully stuck to their resolutions, if I tried. I'm sure I even have, a time or two. But by and large, as the year goes on, life takes over and the resolutions fade to the background. That's the nature of life.

So, what I like to do instead is to recognize January 1st for what it is - a new beginning. I try to put all my petty grievances of the prior year behind me and start fresh. I try to forgive myself for letting things slide for that last six weeks of the year, and especially for that extra five pounds my mom's and mother in law's delicious holiday eats (not to mention the extra booze) helped me pack on and just say, "Ok. Here's my opportunity for a fresh start."

I try to do this at work, too, of course, but it's harder to implement since returning from the holidays launches us immediately into month-quarter-year-end madness. But I'm trying anyway, because miring myself in negativity doesn't help anyway, so why not focus on the positive? Why not focus on the new department head who actually seems to take an interest in my career development? Why not focus on the opportunities he's already created for me? Why not focus on the potential positives the mentoring I took part in last year may yield as the company begins to recover from the bad times? Heck, why not focus on the fact that, as this new year begins, the company isn't laying off my coworkers every other week?

We'll see how it goes.

A Decade

When you're young, a decade seems an unimaginably enormous amount of time. The eighties, for example, were pretty much my whole childhood. It seemed almost unfathomably long. When I would look ahead 10 years, I would think, "My God, I'll be so old then. That will be so weird."

That perspective changes over time, of course. Now, when I look back 10 years, it seems like yesterday, in so many ways. That's especially key today, the 10th anniversary of my grandfather's death. Now, it seems inconceivable that it's already been a decade. It's gone by so quickly. Nearly everything about my life that could've changed in that 10 years has. So much has happened. And yet, I remember that day as vividly as if it were yesterday. And I miss him as if he'd just been gone a short time, rather than 10 years.

It's so strange to think that someone who was so very important to me has been gone almost a third of my life, now. But the 23 years he was in it must have been more formative, I think, because he shaped such a huge part of who I became, even after he was gone. I've written here numerous times about the ways he impacted my life, and the ways he taught me what to expect from life and love.

Even since he's been gone, he continues to be so important to me. I talk to him about the important things, and at the times I need him, I know he's there. Still, what I wouldn't give to have him here in the physical realm, to hug me, to rub my head, to tell me everything will be ok. I miss that.

I realize, of course, that grandparents are generally only in our lives for the first bit of it. That's the nature of generational divides, isn't it? I realize that the death of an 85 year old grandfather is not a tragedy. But losing someone who means so much to you always hurts, doesn't it? And you always miss those people, don't you?

So, today, on the 10th anniversary of his leaving his physical life, I'd just like to tell him what I tell him most days, anyway. I love you, Buck. Thank you.