And you begin to learn
that kisses aren’t contracts and
presents aren’t promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman
not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow’s ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting
for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn
that you really can endure
that you really are strong
and you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye.
you learn…

I’ve loved this poem for a long time. I’m sharing it here because I hope it speaks to you, too.

(…but also to not lose track of it.)

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“After Awhile” by Veronica Shofstall

I have no idea who actually took this picture, much less who spray painted the words. I’m just glad they did and it made it’s way to me.

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Speak the Truth

I grew up in Western Pennsylvania, halfway between Pittsburgh and Erie. Except for the sky being much bigger here, Tulsa reminds me of that area. Especially today.

My grandmother would have said it rained cats and dogs today.

Here in Oklahoma, this kind of rain makes for flash flood warnings, but growing up, this was the perfect kind of rain to play in. No lightning, just lots of water. I remember gathering every kind of container I could find and “catching rainwater” from the downspouts on the house. There was such freedom in splashing around in the puddles, not caring if you were getting wet or muddy.

It’s supposed to keep this up until Saturday, according to the weatherman. Maybe tomorrow I’ll play in the rain.

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Milestones of Summer

Except, I do get weary.
I do get my feelings hurt.
Because I am not as good at this “being a grownup” thing as I’d like to be.
Because taking the high road is hard.
(That’s why so few do it.)

Expectations are premeditated resentments, yes
but just how exactly do you live without expectations?
I’m still learning.

Shopping for bread in a hardware store is
a nice way of saying you’re looking for something
that person just doesn’t have to give.

There are several hardware stores I haven’t seen in ages
and I often do without bread, but my Weeble-like optimism
says I’ll find a bakery before I die.

I hope so.

Meanwhile, how disappointed I am is up to me.

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Doing Without Bread

A friend bought me Bill Cosby’s book, Come On, People for Christmas. A line, early on in the book, hit me between the eyes:

But as much as mothers love their sons, they have difficulty showing a son how to be a man.

Intellectually, that makes sense to me. But in practice, it doesn’t. I might not be able to show my sons what it means to “be a man”…but I sure as hell can (and do) show them what it means to be responsible, caring, accountable, loving, generous and strong.

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Happy Father’s Day

This one’s a little more organized-looking, still with some fun elements, but overall…calmer. And that’s what I wish I had in my life – calm. Since I can’t seem to get it there, I’ll take a dose of it here, thank you very much.

As soon as I can find the pause button, I’ll catch you up. (Don’t hold your breath.)

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New Year, New Look

Second, check out the flowers I got:

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Happy Mother’s Day

I’m proud to announce that I’ve found a way to use my hardheadedness for good, not evil.

How?

I quit smoking.

Yep.

After more than 20 years of that nonsense, I smoked the last one and didn’t go buy more. That was Thursday, April 15th at 8pm central time. Done.

Do I miss it?

No, not really.

Has it been hard? Surprisingly – not as hard as I thought it would be.

Why?

Because I’m hardheaded.

I refuse to be “addicted”. I refuse to entertain the idea that I can’t quit doing something that

a) is no longer enjoyable,
b) is bad for me on so many levels,
c) might end up being the death of me.

What has surprised me most is that none (so far, anyway) of the big fears I had about quitting have come to fruition.

I’m not eating 24 hours a day to keep my mouth busy. Therefore, my ass will remain it’s current width or – God forbid – narrower because I’ve also gotten up every morning this past week and walked the dog. Before coffee! (I know!!)

I’m not biting people’s heads off, kicking the dogs or generally threatening to “go postal”. Although, I did put myself on “time out” the other night when I felt all of that coming on. (Turns out taking good care of myself makes quitting easier. Who knew?!)

So do I want a cigarette?

Physically? No.
Intellectually? No.
Emotionally? No.
Habitually? Yes.

That last one won’t last forever. And it’s fairly easy to ignore. And when it’s not, here’s what I do:

I have one, lonely cigarette stashed in this house. One. It’s sole purpose in life is to be available to quell the petulant child in me who wants what she wants when she wants it…and not surprisingly, what she wants here of late is a damn cigarette. So, I tell her, “Ok, girlie – you can have that cigarette. But when it’s gone, it’s gone. I’m not buying anymore. So, do you REALLY want your last cigarette now?”

Well, of course, that little petulant child sits right down and shuts up, because she’s worried the urge for a cigarette might be worse sometime in the future, and then what will she do if she’s already smoked her stash??! So, she “saves” it for that emergency situation.

You and I both know what’s gonna happen…

The day will come when even that stashed cigarette will be too stale and nasty to contemplate smoking it.

And that day, I will know for sure I’m free of cigarettes.

Thank God for my hard head – it’s what will get me through until then.

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Using My Hardheadedness for Good, Not Evil

Here is the first weekend of Spring in Tulsa, 2010:

And here is the first weekend of Spring in Tulsa, 2009:

Looks like the same picture, doesn’t it.

It’s not.

I think Tulsa might be a little confused as to what constitutes “spring weather”.

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Welcome to Spring in Oklahoma

When you can’t be the real you without rocking the boat – ever – you begin to realize that you might simply just be in the wrong boat.

Took me 43 years to learn that…44 to get out of the boat.

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The Wrong Boat