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!

Hedgehog Cake Scale

Me? Today, I’m 6!

Your turn - let me hear from ya!

Photo Dump: Cat Edition

Manic Monday: Texas Edition

Although the Pandi rules supreme, still, this here map shows an epic historical (hysterical!) milestone. Every county - that’s 254 of ‘em - is under winter weather warning. 

This tweet from a local news station says “once in a generation”. I dare say, once in a century. Maybe. 

The desert.

The plains.

The forest.

The hill country.

The mountains.

The beach.

Happy Presidents Day!

Where’s Bernie?

Goodbye President 45, hello President 46! 

Bernie has *almost* stolen Kamala’s thunder. And - for no other reason than to a legacy of this especially historic event on my blog for My Girls (& all who read this entry) - I’m adding my two cents to the sea of Bernie memes.

Inspo: