Sand in a Small Town

Dolphins crest the horizon while the sun turns water into crystal ripples. A beyond middle aged dude reminiscent of Sammy Hagar sits in his sand chair playing tunes from Springsteen to Boston on his throwback radio. The breeze remains steady keeping the sun from burning my cheeks. Covered in salt, allowing the waves to crash into me, fills my soul with energy. Just as far as the eye can see the tides roll tirelessly into the beach bringing surprising treasures to passing goers and little toes brave enough to stand until the water slips away in its brief moment.

As I stroll my way through the village shops, conversations with business owners selling handmade soaps or crafted jewelry and gifts that you don’t question paying whatever price because you know exactly where it came from and whom is benefiting, are simple yet intriguing. Getting a glimpse into the life of a small seaside town resident beckons me to want to stay longer than just a visit. Images of early morning sunrise and eager boat rides to score the catch of the day come to mind as the soap maker talks of the fresh tuna dinner he will be preparing with friends that night.

Wind whispers in my ear and my ponytail waves gently like the kites staked in the sand. I cycle my legs never tiring over flat terrain through ponds filled with cattails, the only landmark from miles away, a lookout tower providing the reminder that days like this were not always filled with peace. Miles stretch along the coast line as the pavement below moves below my feet blurred by speed.

There is nothing like dipping your toes in the tide at days end when all else has left to amuse in the delights of the boardwalk and avenues of shops. I am here in this moment as the waves provide music to my ears all I can think about is what lies in front of me. The sky turns pink reminiscent of Bermudian sand against a backdrop of turquoise so deep you almost think you are standing under the ocean. The evening is upon me and the air begins to cool. This is my drug of choice. There is no anxiety, stress or sadness here. My mind is clear and sharp, my body relaxed and sun kissed. It is an addiction that will bring me back for an abundance of reasons. Waves and sun providing excitement in the summer while beach grass lined trails inspire in the fall.

Sometimes it’s a place that fills our voids of broken hearts or worried minds. You won’t find it in your wallet or on your iPhone, but if you are open to exploration I assure you no matter where you go, you suddenly feel like nothing else matters. And isn’t that how it should be, living to feel over living for things. Go to the town filled with sand, touch the sky, listen to the music of the ocean, see the crystals dance in the water and feel it all. Just remember to take a little home with you each time to fill your day dreams from the sand in the little town.

Surviving the Apocalypse

What are you passionate about? It might be that beer you’re currently holding to wash away the day’s events. Maybe it’s something more, like hitting that spin class you’ve been talking about for too long. Can I tell you a secret? It doesn’t matter whether it’s the beer or the exercise, as long as you’re passionate about…something.

The long day that had your heart racing and your head pounding is passion enough to earn that beer. It’s how we spend our afternoons on phone calls, in gyms or classrooms. Yeah, for most of us it’s called a job, but I am well aware in this day that can mean many things to many people. Maybe you are folding knit sweaters that you can’t even imagine your grandmother wearing or walking down a tarmac to get to your company aircraft. One minute you’re slinging pizzas and the next you’re holding conventions to sell the world on your new technology.

We can be anything or anyone at anytime. Life is phases and we are all capable. The world is a sphere of harsh criticism beseeching you at every moment, reminding you that you are only worth the attention you receive in a crowded room or next post where you look like you might fall from a cliff. It’s not even the amount of money in your wallet. In fact, I’m finding more each day that actual money in its true form is not even cool anymore and not widely accepted. Which brings me to the idea I have been warning people of that some day we will all just be wearing that micro chip you now have in your debit card and wave so smugly in the electronic air. Pandemic temperature taking have already gotten us a custom to our foreheads being scanned upon entrance.

It’s coming, all of it. And you better be ready. If you aren’t flying into space in a rocket ship shaped like your ego as of now then you better have a plan. You can figure it out now or eventually, but the best way to survive is through your passion. It has to bring you joy, fear, love and strength, but let me break it to you. It won’t and doesn’t need to bring any of those things to anyone else. If you don’t feel it without approval then it’s not it. Go back and try again. Let go of your pre-conceived ideas and insecurities and just be happy. Serve ice cream to giggly toddlers, coach a football team. raise a child or maybe horses. Whatever your desire, go after it. Life is short and unpredictable. What everyone loves today, they loathe tomorrow. Don’t be a trend, but don’t be the trend setter either. Be yourself, do you remember who that is?

Heartache

Broken hearts don’t always come from one lost love. Nor a hundred of them. For a heart to be broken more than once, it must have been mended many times. Is it better to have loved and lost? Is there a maximum number of times this can happen and is it only for the emotionally stable?

Well, I presume I don’t know the answer, but I can tell you from experience, even just one is unforgettable. Just as a song can play in your head, so can another human. You feel such a connection there are times it plays on repeat. And then there are the times when you go about your day. You forget, but then night falls and your head hits the pillow wishing it was another heart beating next to yours.

You listen to the song as though it’s not really there. You hear it, but you’re trying not to. Then it ends and you think you should play it again. You weren’t quite listening so this is a natural act of course. The second time you hear it, the notes hit harder. Drawn in by the sound, you forget what is around you and now only focus on the noise filling the room with its melody.

It draws you in and you can’t get enough. Forgotten already is everything you cared about five minutes ago, last year or yesterday. And then it’s gone.

The white noise is there to comfort you, but it’s not the same. Everything you touch, see or hear is passing of the days. The feeling of that song still remains in your heart, but you can no longer feel it in it’s form.

This is love. This is heart. This is ache.

And I will always choose the pain

INTRO

I remember many things, but somehow can’t remember it all. And mostly the memories come to me in waves so I’m never quite sure if series of events are in order. If you were to ask me the first thing that comes to my mind when thinking back to my childhood, it would be my friends. The neighborhood we lived in was all but perfect, in my eyes. Riding our bikes through the valley, staying out just til dark when we knew it was time to come in for dinner, ghost hunting in the cornfields. These memories are fresh in my mind and I believe that they are the foundation of my positive nature.

Some would think that my story is filled with nothing but trauma and I suppose they are correct, but it’s the friends and vivid memories of after school shenanigans and weekend sleepovers I believe to keep me from falling down a well of negativity. Sometimes I feel the cold, dark cylinder surrounding me, looking up to see the beauty in the light knowing I will never be able to reach it. And I realize that it is only the kind act of another that will bring me to touch it by throwing me a rope in hopes that I will be strong enough to climb.

Growing up was a lesson in independence. And while I am very happy today knowing I can survive, adapt and take out my own trash, some of that independence wasn’t all welcome. I have found that crying on your own shoulder is messy and painful. Making yourself soup when battling through a 104 degree fever is well, kinda scary. And then there’s parenthood in itself. Learning to handle your own emotions, trying to figure everything out on your own in hopes you don’t screw up your child as badly as your own parents did you. Well there’s that. That’s not the kind of independence I would wish on anyone. People need people. And when you are facing loss and change and a sea of emotions people are not only needed, without them you will slowly drive yourself insane. Consumed in your own thoughts, going through them like files in a card catalog, there is no one to tell you it’s going to be ok.

This is a story of perseverance and hope, but also a true one. Perseverance runs out, hope fades. Life is heavy, it shows up everywhere. You are in the supermarket one moment eyeing up the Ben & Jerrys, mostly because you love the names but not really the ice cream, and the next you are wondering why you live such a life of change yet always remain the same. Maybe we are like a tree, not meant to move. Why is life happening to me now? Can’t it wait til I’m home enjoying the pint of ice cream I really don’t like? It sure can’t, and it’s going to melt all over you if you don’t start doing something about it, that life.

A Cloud in My Sky

I didn’t want to go outside and share in the beauty of the weather tonight.

I wanted to be exactly where I was. Sitting at the table next to all I have ever loved, crying about all the things I have been holding in.

Feeling the release of emotion was more than the breeze could have offered. Knowing the security of a kind heart was warmer than what the sun could shine.

Just as art can be beautiful, we don’t always wish to visit its museums. Beauty is in the moment and moments are not always beautiful. Sadness can be peaceful and calming such as a moonlit night. Emotions can paint a picture, better than that of a brush. The canvas a backdrop of what you are living today.

Step inside, enjoy the clouds and embrace the boredom. Life is too short to only count the moments that produce rainbows.

I’m Only Happy When it Rains

I hope this storm doesn’t pass
Let it rain down with it’s passion, it’s class

The wind lifts me off my feet From the words it whispers sounds so sweet

As the thunder rolls through my knees making them weak
Feeling it’s energy, I can barely speak

Storms like these raging through the night On a warm summers eve giving my senses delight

So rage on summer storm and make me feel new each day that you pass leaving sunny skies blue

I look forward to running out in the rain as long as the feeling remains the same

Going it Alone

I’ve been wanting to put this into words for some time. Not having the courage, until now. Many have heard me speak of or write about the trials and tribulations of being a single parent. And many see me post the joys that also encompass it. Being an “any type” of parent is rewarding and this is not meant to take away from that. Most that know me, my son’s teachers, friends and my cats, will tell you that I am an advocate for my son. Passionate about spreading awareness and sharing his story so others don’t have to go through what he did when when the system let him down at the age of only five. But mostly, I just enjoy the shit out of his company and think he is an amazing human.

But what people don’t see behind the scenes, behind the joyful pictures and the weekend adventures are the struggles. I often don’t share these moments but maybe those that I begin to trust see it in glimpses. Maybe I slip a little and they might even see me shed a tear. Probably not, I don’t cry much, I usually just get pissed. And some poor soul on the end of the phone tells me to breathe while I voice text a crazy synopsis of my day. This is because I’m alone and today you are “it”. There I said it.

So that is what I want to share with others. In hopes that others can relate. Many people are judgmental of single parents. Sure there are handfuls of promiscuous moms letting grandma do all the work while they prowl their weekends for other single dads that got there from looking for women just like that. There are plenty of you married folk doing much of the same. But please don’t forget about us that are working to build a family, putting our lives into our children and doing it… alone. We appreciate those that sympathize, really we do. But mostly I find that in my five years of doing this, most treat it like a competition. “Well at least you only have one, or you’re so lucky to have a free weekend”. Comments are a given, I don’t expect others to understand something they have never had to. But please try. As a single parent working to build the same family you have by ourselves is also a human that was brave enough to leave someone they loved to remove a child from abuse, or maybe they were left by that someone. Whatever their story, I can assure you it wasn’t an easy one.

And I can assure you I would rather have it in your shoes. Please give me the many children you have to juggle while your husband works long hours. I would do anything for that kind of family and spousal support. And please take back my free weekends, because even though you see my selfies, drinking beer or riding my bike, you really don’t want to know how hard I had to work on the plumbing or car repairs to earn it. And you really really don’t want to know how sad I am to have to hand my son over even if it is just a few nights. It’s one night not getting to see him grow up too many.

For those of you that have spouses, parents, friends; you are the richest people I know. When you reach out to a single parent, you have no idea how much that means to us. So thank you! To those that stop by, text to “check on me”, ask me how I’m doing or make a point to say hi when you see me; you are probably the only one that is doing so. There are no annoying husband snores or pesty friends in our business, or for some, mom and dads calling too much. I will clean your house, fix your toilet and do your taxes while holding a power drill, a checkbook and a baby on my hip. I can run circles around responsibility all day long. So give us a break, give us a call, we don’t need you to do anything for us. In fact we will probably be the ones wanting

mom to do things for you. Friend a single parent today, we are too tired to stay up late.

Today Isn’t Yesterday

The sound of Spring is heard through the chirping birds on a chilly, damp night. It teases us filling our hopes with thoughts of hikes in the woods and rides on our bikes. But the chill in the air reminds us we rather stay home. We remember our last walk when the sun was kissing our cheeks and our feet felt light.

Today I woke knowing I would be responsible for many things, but tomorrow I will wake knowing I can go back to my bed. Freedom of time makes me smile and never came this easy before. No schedule or commitments to grasp my day I will delight in the ability to choose. And even though I have these thoughts, tomorrow is still not a given. Not really knowing what it can bring is half the fun. My son said to me tonight, “Mom, I wouldn’t want to know my future. Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.” I now know my son really does like surprises.

Some nights I have my dreams to ponder. Memories of sand in my hair, grapes upon my toes and kisses on my lips. Many mornings wakening to the sound of guitar and the smell of coffee. Weekend getaways, delighting on wine and delicious bites. Cobblestone streets under my feet while the sound of drums pound in my ears drawing me into the music playing no matter how dark the street may be. Sizzling steaks and records playing become an art form in my kitchen. These were the moments I will never forget and the hopes that there will be more to come.

A rainy day bringing the gift of a rainbow or a flat tire turning into a chance meeting. The crack in the sidewalk making way for a growing tree. Strength found in times of difficulty and weakness reminding you to be strong.

Today isn’t yesterday and tomorrow will be what you make it. Sleep well, life isn’t a period of time meant to be wasted waiting for what you think you want, but to be lived for each today, tomorrow and yesterday.

mexico

Times Like These

When you pick up that large grocery bag, or three or five because why not put one on each finger, it weighs you down. Maybe it even strains your shoulder a bit, but you trudge on. Or do you? You could pick up that gallon of milk in the other hand too, because let’s face it, you got this. What happens when you do? Suddenly the strain from the other shoulder begins to subside and you walk more upright. Sure it’s still a strain but now you are moving right along. Why is this? Because you are balanced.

No this isn’t a Science class, although funny how human behavior really is a Science. Life is a balance. And more so now than ever we need to understand just how to do that. In the example of the bags and the milk, you have a choice. And life is just that, a series of choices you get to make. Sure you could drop the bag in hopes someone else will get it or you could just grab one at a time making the trip to the kitchen more bearable, but obviously longer. Perhaps you could just carry the load as I had chosen, but no matter what you do, the choice is yours. There is no right or wrong answer. Some of us wish to think that the lazy way of dropping the bag for someone else would be wrong, but maybe you don’t realize that the person that made that choice did so in order to receive much needed relief from a medical condition or was dropping them to run after a family member getting ready to fall. The universe doesn’t judge. We see it all the time, or we think we do, the rich getting richer while those of us that work hard just seem to have to work harder. But is seeing believing? The truth is none of us know what someone else may be going through and in order to achieve balance, you really shouldn’t care. What happens when someone asks to take one of those bags off your fingers? I bet you shout no way, I got this! Why? Well we will drop all the other bags and lose balance! So point taken, it’s not for anyone else to provide us the balance we need in life. No amount of judging and blaming others is going to get you to where you need to be. No, balance takes self discipline. And once you achieve it, you won’t ever go back.

They say it takes a traumatic experience for someone to really change. And so here’s your chance! My life pre-COVID, was definitely one that needed more balance. Although I must say that for those who always wondered how I did it all, single parenting, working full time, home ownership; it was balance. And those times I found myself less than happy, well those were the times I dropped the bags. Not only dropped but in good ol’ Dana fashion, dropped and broke the glass milk jug all over the floor. So if I focused on that, the spilled milk per say, then unhappiness would creep in and put its firm grip around my life. But when I scream at the milk, clean it up and forget about it or hey, maybe learn from it; my happy place is left unscathed. The point is you’re going to have tough moments and some of those moments last months, years even, some only hours. But don’t let those times allow to take a hold of what you are living now. Look at how far you have come, who surrounds you and where you are going. Stay focused on the task, but don’t let it control your world. Our children are learning in a whole new way and we are doing our best. Be good to you and them, let go and learn to know your emotions. No one can do that for you. If you are in tune with yourself, you will know what sets you off and how much you can handle. Back off before things get to this point. Nothing is that important. Nothing is more important than you. Those around you cannot thrive and maintain a healthy balance if you are always negative because that would mean in order to maintain balance they would always need to be positive and after 16 years of marriage trying, I have found out that is not humanly possible, no matter how much you like to laugh.

Take advantage of this time no matter your situation to focus on yourself. It is not our jobs to juggle everyone around us. But, it’s when you achieve that balance that suddenly you can. “It’s Times Like These you learn to live again”.

Strength Lessons

Strength cannot be taught. It is something that one can only learn through their own experiences. Each one of us handles trauma in different ways. If I choose to be kind to my child I am showing him compassion. When I do things for him he is appreciative. Because in many instances he understands that I am not always able to help him in the way he wants me to. He understands the struggle that we carry being a single parent household. At nine years old he himself has been through his own trauma.

He knows that when the sink is running, for instance, I can’t hear him speak. And if he needs something that he must come to me and ask rather than me wait on him. He understands that he must open the door for me each and every night because he is not able to carry heavy loads as of yet. When he asks for a drink at bedtime it is always followed by an apology that he didn’t ask sooner and feels bad making me go back down the stairs. I always tell him that I certainly don’t mind because he is kind to me too and we help each other. And then sometimes I just tell him to go get it himself. The ability that my son and I have to be able to ask each other for help when needed is our strength. So when you see my child playing video games or me giving him his favorite cookie and being more than happy to pour him a glass of milk it is because it is well-deserved.

Some of us see others on social media as an example and may think “wow what a great life she must have, must be nice”. But strength lies in knowing how hard I worked to be in that moment. And at times it may only be treating myself to a glass of wine, maybe a night out for dinner, or just putting my feet up and watching a movie. Strength also comes from not having to defend or explain yourself to others. I know how far I’ve come and how hard I have faught. I have no desire to prove that to anyone else.

Strength is not how big of a wall you can build. It is not how hard you can hit or how little you cry. No, strength is kindness, compassion, love. Strength is patience, regard for others, and the ability to know when you yourself need to take a step back and give yourself all of the above. Don’t confuse strength with toughness. The latter will only leave you with an empty heart. It is true what they say strength comes from within. You cannot take a class in it, ask for it or borrow it. You must simply learn how to cope.

The happiest people I know are the most grateful. That’s a start.

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