Throwback Thursday: Who Do My Parents Think They Are Lookin' All Party-Cool?

In the early 1980's, my dad was stationed in Hawaii. We'd have friends & family come for a visit every once in a while.

My mom was not close to her family for most of her life (arguably any of it, considering the toxic home in which she lived). On this occasion, her older brother came to visit, accompanied by his lovely wife. 

I came across this photo of the four of them and I'm struck by how dapper my dad looks in that v-neck! WHO SAID YOU COULD LOOK LIKE THAT, DAD?! 

And that halter dress my mom's sporting! GIRL! 

THOSE TANS!

My Uncle and Aunt also looks so playful and relaxed! I want to use the word "festive" but that's not really the accurate descriptor....maybe convivial or snappy would be better?

I don't recall the events of this visit. I am going to ask my Aunt what she remembers about that trip to Hawaii.

Also -- can we talk about my mom's decor choices. What's with that capiz shell lamp and iron castle-style scrolly candle sconce? Did I ever tell you we grew up with a knight of triplefake armor in the house -- AS A DECORATION. It has a javelin or spear or whatever you call medieval weaponry.

I loved Hawaii. 

Senior Sunday

 Class of 2024

Not Loving These Things About Myself

My dad died in 2001. My mom never remarried. She might've dated one person & it was for about five minutes.

Growing up, I don't remember having any "best friends", except one. They had a falling out, but I don't remember why. They reunited later in life but it was never the same. Another lady befriended my mother when she lived in San Angelo & mom was so glad to have a friend again -- someone you could run around town with, go to each other's house & just hang, gossip. That lady ended up stealing money from my mom.

Mom didn't have a healthy upbringing. Mom lost her own mother when she was in childbirth. My grandmother & the baby both died. Mom was only six years old. Her dad was abusive, like the kind of abusive you say, "that person doesn't deserve to be alive" kind of shit. Verbal, physical & sexual abuse was always present. My mother didn't complete high school. It's no wonder mom got married at 15; seemed better to get married & have two kids by 17 than live with that......person. (Her dad died before I was ever a twinkle in the stars. I'd like to think there's something redeeming about him.)

In true Abuse Repeat Cycle phenomenon, mom's first two marriages were abusive, too. The first husband kidnapped their kids & mom chased them all over the country trying to love them till she just couldn't find them anymore. He was in construction so he could up & leave, plant new (shallow) roots anywhere. Based on the stories she shared, he was quite the scoundrel & later I'd learn the two boys she birthed by age seventeen were also quite raucous heathens, as well. Meeting these "brothers" was exciting, but there's no happy ending really. I'm pretty sure they don't know my - our - mom has passed away. I wonder if they ever wonder about her.

More stories of what, these days, would be called "toxic masculinity" & worse continued in to that second marriage. My Brother was born, but he never got to know his real dad. Allegedly, he signed away full custody of My Brother on the heels of a fight, a car fire & some jail time. 

There were Army Wives dinners & socials, the couples friends, volunteering in the schools, but as you can see, my mom never knew the permanence of a relationship. She seems to have limited experience in bonding with her peers. I think she loved my dad, but somewhere along the way, he became function: provider. Sure, they had some good times, but I think mom needed stability, and his job kind of forced him to behave at home. He'd drink, so would she. He'd yell, so would she. He'd gamble & break the bank. He hit her a couple times that I recall. 

She was an avid bowler before & after dad died, until she just couldn't anymore. The fellow league mates became her primary social life until she moved to the Dallas area, where My Brother and I have planted roots. Then we became her social life. Oh! And her doctors. 

I watched my mom's life....dwindle. 

Her life became watching television, napping and shopping.

I remember visiting her and she'd talk about how she had no one to talk to so her brain didn't quite function clearly. We'd giggle about the silly mis-pronunciations or "brain farts" as she'd call them. 

Of course, the more ill she became, she slept more, but before being ill, she still napped a lot. Sometimes I'd call her, causing her to wake up; or she wouldn't answer then later, when we spoke, she'd say, "sorry, babe, I didn't hear the phone ring - I was asleep!".

I took these observations & experiences in to my therapist's office. I remember complaining that my mom could be doing so much more, but she's not. I even thought it was pathetic. I didn't want my life to be like hers....alone, small, boring.

I'm becoming her.

I have no friendships that are "every day". I have deep, close, rich, bonded friendships, most of them live out of town. But I'd love to have that person, or group of person. 

I have attended some sports-centered gatherings, but those are all superficial. I've been tied in to a group of women who love sports & The Ticket in a private chat room on Twitter (X) for several years. We've met, but they've all cliqued up and I haven't fit in anywhere.

I'm bored with my life. I can't afford to do anything extravagant. My heart & soul LONGS to travel, but I'm giving up on those dreams. I'm actually grieving them.

I'm interested in volunteering, but am overwhelmed by the possibilities.

Being home costs money. I haven't even been able to afford my utilities. I've stripped down a lot of my subscriptions. I'm to the point where I'm like, "I'll turn on this light because it's one bulb instead of the four in that light". 

I want to exercise but I don't.

I want to eat better but I don't.

I want to create things but I don't.

I have the time to learn, but I feel lazy.

I want to read books, but I play games on my phone.

I need to clean my house and do yardwork but I turn on the television and become a couch potato.

I feel STUCK.

I wonder if my mom felt this way and that's why she chose television as entertainment, napping to escape boredom & shopping as a social life.

I will say this: As a result of my marriage & the subsequent divorce trauma, I've been purposefully laying pretty low. With MLO almost 18, I'll be free of all those bonds. I do hope some of these awarenesses I'm experiencing are awakenings, growing seeds. I do hope when that day arrives, I'll be out in the world more (and more financially stable!). This single mom stuff is HARD, and I know there are women out there who've had it WAY harder than I have.

I don't want my life to be like my mom's. While I no longer think she's pathetic like I once did, I do wish she was around so I could delve more into her psyche about the choices she made. I don't want to be alone and lonely.

Halloween Memories & Beware Araskavedekatriaphobia

 At work, we have an October filled with competitive events where we team up in a "House". The Houses are given opportunities to earn points, for no real end-game except bragging rights. For as small as this company is, there are some fierce competitors. One of the points-earning opportunities this year includes bringing in a picture of yourself as a kid dressed in a Halloween costume. Team members can earn five points just by participating. There will be additional points awarded to the team who has a member who guess the most amount of employees correct as it correlates to their childhood picture.

I've been looking for pictures of me dressed up as Wonder Woman (the kind with the spooky masks that have the cut-out eyes , nostrils & mouth hole in the elastic laced suffocation device shown below) or a ghost or a witch. 

Nope.

No photos. 

Not a one.

I texted my brother to ask if he remembers seeing any pictures of us as kids dressed in our trick-or-treating regalia and he replied, "oddly....no". 

My brother is a huge KISS fan, so I'm 99% sure he dressed up as Gene or Paul one year...makeup and all. But I don't have any *clear* memories of HIM dressing up either!

Now I'm wondering if I even went trick-or-treating! 

Is this because I'm getting older? Or is it a result of moving around as a little kid? I've said before that I don't really remember too many things about childhood, but the food addict in me would feel so guilty if I didn't remember scoring all that candy once a year!

Man, I'm sad now. And I can't even earn five points for my House -- OF WHICH I AM THE HEAD! I'm the head of Team Blue October! 

*kicks dirt*

+

Also: Happy Friday the 13th.

~WHOOSH

The Last First Day

*squeeeeee* Here's my baby -- My Little One. This photo is the last First Day of School picture we'll take. I'm not crying; YOU'RE CRYING!

MLO's senior year will be one of late arrivals, no driver's license, half-easy/half-difficult classes: Anatomy & Physiology, English, Economics/Government, 2D Studio Art, AP Ceramics, Audio/Visual somethingsomething, the next class after taking the intro class last year.  No math! No foreign language! No physical education! 

There will be random metal detectors erected to search for guns, knives, vapes, e-cigarettes & I don't know what else -- aren't those things (scary) enough? Is it any wonder teens today feel so anxious?? 

This child marvelously talented & insightful young human is exceptional. Yeah, yeah, all parents say their kid is exceptional, I know. I know. I do! But this one IS! The old soul, then depth & breadth of subject matter we discuss, the deep & wide empathy they possess -- makes me cry. I cry from humility and awe, joy & wonder. I absolutely LOVE watching them grow up. The mere fact that they include me in their life fills my heart with a kind of happiness I don't really know how to describe. My heart is FULL. It's swollen. I FEEL it in my chest when I laugh & cry & listen & learn with them. 

It's been an interesting couple years...

Super Bowl Sunday 2022, MLO decided to take a stand and refuse to go back to their dad's house & hasn't been back since. It was very rocky for a while. My anxiety was heightened. My fear that he'd kill my kids and/or me was palpable. Neighbors and friends were notified to be on the look-out for erratic behavior. Family was notified. Therapists and employers were put on notice. The pulse has stabilized over time, but I stay vigilant. There've been phone conversations and texts exchanged on special occasions, but that's about it in terms of MLO being in contact with their dad. I remind them I will support any decision they make regarding if & when to see or talk to their dad, and I always will. I'm grateful he's honored their decision all this time. If the tables were turned, I know I'd be fraught with sadness.

The gaslighting he pulled was sickening, trying to tell MLO they're 'crazy'. He questioned her mental health & tried to use religion, psychology & family to manipulate her. But she did her homework, man. She sought counsel with a family law attorney to ask questions, understand their rights & obligations, talked to her therapist, got a script prepared. The resolve they continue exhibit is nothing less than remarkable. I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but so far, we're holding steady.

They were seeing a psychiatrist and a counselor, taking anti-anxiety and anti-depressant medication. Now, they're med-free & feel happier, healthier. MLO is so close to being free from the legal monkey on their back. So close. There's still a long way to go but they're thriving!

We'll take this a day at a time, feeling each emotion, honoring it & processing it as it presents. I hope this year will be filled with their favorite things, foraging new memories, absorbing excellence academically and humanistically. I'm not sure which will make them happier: being free from the divorce decree or graduating. Either way, it'll be a good year. 

Love & be loved.

x

El Paso STRONG

Moving

Guess who has two thumbs and owns her own house now?? My mortgage company! At least they're letting me claim it as a home address for a little while.

Yep! Ya girl bought a house! It's a beautiful home where My Kids and I can make new memories, healing memories. It's a place where we all have a space. It offers an oasis of relaxation, daydreaming, live streaming, art scheming, and even a little deep-end diving. We're here and we're thriving!

My house, which we call "Juneau", isn't so big that I can't handle it when I live alone eventually. And it's a good size for all of us to live here for a good while. It's also in a good neighborhood that will allow my investment to grow, to appreciate, and eventually, My Kids can own or sell it. It's a "future" thing, while we all just try to live in - and appreciate - THIS moment.

We recently travelled to Colorado, where we bought some sage at a metaphysical shop. Brought it home and saged the house. I placed some energy stones in the windows to maintain harmony, have some protection. 

I've been experiencing a myriad of feelings. I thought I might cry and feel so victorious when I signed my last signature and received the key, but I didn't cry. I sat in my car, alone, holding the key, trying to live in the moment. I took several deep breaths and expected a flood of tears, a flood of joy, a flood of sheer relief to overcome me, but it hasn't happened yet. Is this what it's like to feel confident in a decision? Is this what it feels like that have "arrived". I did this! I! DID! THIS! 

I already fear the financials. I'm not super money savvy and I worry I won't be able to afford the house. I worry about if something major goes wrong, how am I going to fix it? Who will I call? How will I know if I'm being scammed or taken for granted? 

I have a big, BIG worry about safety. I'm scared my ex-husband will come over and shoot us. I worry he'll find a way to sabotage me. I worry he'll taunt the kids. I wish he didn't legally have to know where I live. I have an alarm system and cameras, a special lock system, but he's devious and I will never trust him.

BUT -- know this: I will not allow my fear of him dictate me living my life. Some day, he will be a non-factor, a non-person, a not-necessary human in my life. 

In the meantime, I will have pool parties, game nights, dive-in movie watching, birthday, Christmases, Thanksgivings, Valentines Days, First and Last Days of Schools, friends, family and lots of love in this home, My Juneau. 

I'm a very lucky human being. Grateful beyond belief.

Obituary: Bobby Byrd

I'm trying to figure out why his passing is affecting me so deeply when I haven't seen or talked to him in over a decade, or more. I wonder if it's because of the brief flutters of my visits with Susie that impacted me in a way I wasn't conscious of at the ages of 15-18 or 19.....

You know how people you've never even met, or even characters on TV show or movie, can affect you deeply? Sometimes you don't realize their impact until they're gone, or the show is over. Timing, you lil trickster, you!

When I think of a person being spiritual, generally, that's a sense, in my mind, of a person who has no real home, but always feels home and makes another feel home when in his/her/their presence. They're a floater, an adventurer, but never lost. That was Bobby Byrd. 

Our world lost a spiritual yet rooted man, father, husband, teacher, musician, and poet. Although I didn't experience him as such, he strikes me as an activist. He was a gentle force. I remember him always smiling, even in deep thought. Passionate.

I spent time in their home, Bobby & Lee's, as a high schooler. That Louisville Street home was filled with plants of all sorts, art galore - paintings, pottery, figurines, music. There was always laughter and Spanish, good food, good smells, good people. There was a front porch where no stranger stepped, in a Central El Paso hilly neighborhood nestled 'neath the Austin "A" painted white on the Franklin mountainside. (Go Panthers!) Susie & her husband bought the house next door to that house where she grew up - that's how special the Byrd House was....how close that family is....how tight-knit that community is....you were welcome & didn't want to leave. When I think of what life in El Paso was like when I lived there, the image first in my mind's eye is sitting in Susie's childhood home. THAT is what El Paso is for me.

Susie's 'Poppa Byrd', passed away July 11th. For the last two days, not many minutes have passed where he, Lee, Susie & the boys haven't been on my mind. I've been reading tributes by various authors, friends, family, souls who shared paths with Bobby. I'm reminded how much he liked basketball, baseball and politics. I've never forgotten his love of the border. Yes, that El Paso/Juarez sister cities area, the U.S./Mexico border. He and Lee owned Cinco Puntos Press, an independent publishing company that often printed books in both Spanish and English, subjects often surrounding border issues, border life, written by brilliant wordsmiths on both sides of the border. Through Bobby & his family, I learned that there was more to REAL life outside my military brat bubble life. 

As I mentioned, Bobby's a poet. I leave that in the present tense because his love woven in the lives of his descendants & in printed words will never die. Poetry is forever, as he will be. 

Rest in Poetry, Mr. Byrd. 

Read more about Bobby Byrd here.

Donations can be made to El Paso Zen/Both Sides No Sides.

ALL THE TWOS

And it’s TUESDAY!

TACO Tuesday!

Eleanor Rigby by Cody Fry

This absolutely blew my mind.

I’m not a Beatles fan. They have a few songs I like — Come Together, Here Comes the Sun, Don’t Let Me Down, Let It Be, With A Little Help From My Friends, and a handful of others, possibly. I deeply appreciate & recognize their musical contributions - “mania”, “boy bands”, all the genres into which they’ve bled. I GET it, okay. OH-KAY??? But I can’t help but dislike how (over)celebrated they STILL are. 

You do you. I’ll do me. #heynow

One of the songs I’ve always been irked by is “Eleanor Rigby”. I don’t care for the music to such a degree I haven’t heard or listened to the words. There’s a story there, and I *finally* heard it! All credit goes to CODY FRY! I hope you enjoy this fresh take as much as I did!