Mitchell and Evelyn

I remember growing up and always having a sort of resentment towards my parents. It wasn't always this way, like when I was a kid my dad was the greatest dad in the world, and my mom was the most perfect mother that there was. I don't know when it all changed, but I started to lose respect for them and their opinions, I was so disrespectful even when outwardly I acted respectful. I remember sitting in the living room and telling them everything I hated about them and how I just can't wait to get out of there.

I remember this one day my dad took me with him on one of his usual hikes, and we got into an argument with him about something or another, I told him he was so prideful. I wont ever forget the look on his face when I said that, he just looked back at me and said "oh you think I am prideful, huh?" I think we ended up settling our issue before we left and even made a detour to Dairy Queen on the way home, but even as I liked my dipped cone of victory I remember thinking he wasn't the prideful one, it was me.

I remember the fights and the arguments, I remember so many of the horrid thoughts, I can't forget the terrible intentions I had towards my very own parents. Tonight I was kept awake thinking about all of these things, and suddenly as if a veil was lifted or the story was finally told in full, I saw it and I felt it. Like a rush of rapids flowing into my very being so I felt a pure love for my parents. I cried thinking of all the beautiful moments that I missed so caught up in my delusion of bitterness.

I was so overwhelmed with love for my dad, how humble he is. He is always serving and giving of himself, and he never asks for anything, just love. I can remember the times he would come into my room and wake me up by rubbing my back and asking if I wanted some pancakes. I think of the twenty mile bike ride we went on, just the two of us, and we stopped on this bridge that was above all the trees and it was so narrow. On that day I declared that my favorite spot in the entire world (that I have seen so far). I think about all the nights he tucked me in and spread my little blanket over me and gave me whiskers. I even remember when my sister and I were supposed to be taking our nap we would stay awake talking about how much we loved dad. I think of the times my mom would yell at him and later I would find him laying on their bed and he was so hurt. He wasn't so prideful that he couldn't show emotion, ya know? I even remember the time my mom was going to leave us, and my sister and my dad and I sat in the living room and he gently told us that he loved us, and that everything is going to be ok, and to not worry about a thing. I remember believing him in that moment, I was so safe with my dad. I am so safe with my dad.

Oh and my mother, we have had our fair share of intense moments, but then again we have had such wonderful ones too. I notice one thing about me that is odd, I share all of my mothers favorites. Our favorite animal is a koala bear, and our favorite smell is eucalyptus, and our favorite color is green, I think I do this so I can feel closer to her. Even with my dad I love Alfred Hitchcock because we watched so many of his films together, just him and I. I love writing because my dad was in journalism for awhile, I even love photography because he took pictures. When I have my own car I will change the oil myself because he showed me how, and when I have my own lawn I will mow the yard (I would always do the back and he would do the front).

I don't know if it is the Christmas air that has got me thinking about my family so much, but I do know that for the first time since I was maybe 8, I felt a pure deep and irrevocable love and appreciation for my beloved parents. I miss them, finally I really miss them, after being on my own for 2 years, I have an ache in my stomach to be held by my dad and listen to my mom hum as she cooks. I have always loved them, and I think it is time I show them my affection in a more tangible way.

Don't get me wrong, it hasn't always been resentment and bitterness all these years, but I think even one day of ill advances towards my selfless and admirable parents would still have been altogether undeserved and utterly ridiculous.

Golden Grams

She grew up in a town called 'Hope'
"That's beautiful, isn't it?" She said as we sipped our Chai Lattes in the over crowded Barnes and Noble, I laughed to myself as I watched the people franticly searching through the titles on the jumbled shelves for the contents of Christmas lists so lengthy. "Hope, Michigan. It is beautiful, Grandma. It suits you." She really isn't my Grandma, but I call her that because she feels like one to me. How loving and lowly she is.
I always thought you could tell alot about someone by knowing where it was they grew up, or came from. I think it is why I can't stay in one place for too long, because I haven't come from one place. I believe I will be destined to wander all the days of my life in wait of a place called home, which I know I will not find here in this world. In this case, Hope Michigan, was altogether Fay Wilson.
She spoke of her divorce, the man that ran around on her for ten years and then told her to leave, and she did. She moved into a little trailer in lynchburg serving her children and seeking the Lord. Unlike most who have lost loves, Fay never loved another. She stayed faithful to him unto his last breathe and I suspect unto hers too.
Beautiful Fay never lost hope, trusting that in the end everything would be fine. She had hope for her children, she had hope in her Lord, she had hope for herself. I think back to last week listening to Grandma talking about her life as if it was so far away yet it all happened so fast, and I honor her. I honor her for her selflessness, I honor her for the elegance that was never lost, I honor her for never being in denial but approaching every situation with a hope so strong that even Michigan acknowledged it!

AHHHHHHHHH

I AM GOING TO ROMANIA FOR CERTAIN!!!!!!
I AM BUYING MY TICKET TODAY!!!!!
I'LL BE GONE FOR 2 MONTHS!!!

BLESS THE LORD!!!!


theend

50 never looked so good

I think there are certain instincts given naturally to different genders. I am noticing these things in myself as of late. In a way it is kinda of scary, because it reminds me I am growing up. I think that's why 'peter pan' is so wondrous, to stay in the ecstasy of child-likeness where happy thoughts make you fly and the only dreadful thing to worry about is pirates. Yet, In a way, it is comforting seeing the change in myself, the maturing.
When I watch her, the way she folds laundry or even the way she makes me smile no matter what battles are raging inside of me, I find I am taking notes. She has her adorable and child-like qualities too, like before she does her shopping she always finds a bag of chocolate and opens it right there in the store, before any official payment as been made. She says "shopping is more enjoyable with chocolate" so we walk along sucking on our chocolates, as little children jealously stare. The cashiers always gives a confused look when we put an empty bag on the conveyor belt for them to scan.
I think above all, it is her presence, everyone knows when she walks into a room. The Joy that surrounds her like an invisible glow lighting her eyes. When she walks in, any tension that was once there disappears, as we all gawk at her beautiful elegance. 50 never looked so good.
I pray that I will grow to be a woman like her someday, perfectly adorable even her flaws, subtly confident, dramatically generous, and lowly in all her ways. Even if I should not have the beauty, I find that I am striving to become a woman as lovely as Nanette Taitt.

easy isn't always best

I will never regret having faith in someone. Even if all the odds are against them, or they have done it a thousand times so surely they will do it again, or the situation is impossible. Even if in the end all of those come to pass and everyone was indeed right. I will not regret having hope, however small it might be.

I stand on the other side of the gate, and I look back and see that had I said 'no' in the beginning it would make it alot easier to keep walking forward now. Yes, but easy isn't always best now is it. The most rewarding things I have ever had the pleasure to experience have been anything but easy.

I told you as you said you 'don't want to hurt me' that it's life, anything you invest your emotions in takes the risk of leaving you hurt. I believe the worst hurt of all is if you didn't take any risks and was content to keep your heart in a safe, combination lost, destined to beat it's last drum in the confines of a lonely metal box. Yes, you were worth the risk. I told you then and I say it now, I do not regret and you were worth the risk.

Of all the things my heart should feel, I can't find one of them. The only thing I can find is gratitude. I am grateful for the time, I am grateful for what I have learned, I am grateful that the Lord still reigns and He will never let me down, I am grateful oh but I am grateful that you are not the one. Even though I have dreamt of you in that way for 5 long months, you are not the one, and I am grateful. So thankful that the Lord in His mercy, made it known to me now rather then later.

I still find myself hoping, though. No, not for you and I, never again for you and I. I am hoping and it's all in the name of the Lord. I am not sad, oddly sadness has not come over me. I think it's because all this time I was still more in love with the Lord then I ever dreamt of being in love with you, I have not lost anything because He is still my portion and satisfaction, and through His grace I never allowed you to become that.

So I end this post with this conclusion, never again will I think of us as two lovers hopeful in future and tales of glories. You are just a man, one I thought about for a long time, but still just a man. I do not regret having faith in us or even the risk. I pray that another will cross your path and she will be found more hopeful and faithful then even I was. So I am done looking back, I am on this side of the gate now and it will be hard for a time, but my Lord will sustain me, He always does.

I have neglected you...

Taciturn- [Tas-i-turn]
-adjective

1.	inclined to silence; reserved in speech; reluctant to join in conversation.

2.	dour, stern, and silent in expression and manner.

If one word could describe now in my life, love, and desires....it's this one.

Synonyms
silent, uncommunicative, reticent, quiet.

I am sure myself will come back soon...
until then, watch this and find the vocabulary above in the glorious lyrics
Joanna Newsom is wonderful

sun or sleep

I couldn't get to bed last night. I sat there, sleep and even tiredness had abandoned me. I was left, just me and my clock, to wait for an intervention, whether that meant sun or sleep.
I am not so blessed to have patience as a virtue. I will not, however, give up trying to obtain it. So as the red numbers stared at me, switching ever so slowly, I felt frustration grip the inside of my stomach.
I know!! I must try to relax and think of nothing, that should help. So I switch sides, putting my stubborn clock to my back, and try to lay as still as possible. I deepen my breathing, and pretend relaxation is overcoming me. It starts at my toes, creeps up to my heels, into my ankles, and through my shins. I think of my body sinking deeper into the mattress with each exhale, as the weight of relaxation calls to tired to come back.
The surest way to insure that tiredness will not come, is to think of him. Now that I look back, I see this is in fact where I went wrong. For just when relaxation was numbing my shoulders, I thought of tired, and that is indeed when he ran away from me for the second time.
I try to win the battle against my clock and not look at him, but of course in my undeniable defeat, I face him and his mocking red numbers ablaze that read 3:26. I sigh, completely beside myself in frustration, and then it happened, something I haven't done since I was a small child, completely forgotten in it's on little world. It brought a wave of nostalgic pleasure into my heart, in turn making me smile.
When I was a little girl, I had a yellow baby blanket. It even had a zipper, so that you could make it into a sleeping bag, should I wish it. Around the edges was stitched thick durable white lace. My dad would tuck my sister, Courtney, and I in for bed at night, and I remember he would always spread my yellow blanket over me.
My dad did this thing where he would rub his cheek on ours, so that we could feel his whiskers like sandpaper against our skin. Courtney and I loved getting whiskers before bed, after that Courtney would contentedly pacify her thumb and drift right to sleep. When I was on the verge of sleep I would always grab the corner of my yellow blanket and rub it between my fingers as my cheek tingled from my dad's whiskers.
Last night in my desperate fight to sleep I subconsciously grabbed the corner of my comforter and started to rub it between my fingers just like when I was little. When I realized it, a flood of childhood memories came back to me. I lay there in the sweetness of my treasured times, remembering when it was all so simple. It was almost tangible, my childhood, and then I finally fell asleep as my clock, defeated, blinked 4:00.
I should like to find my yellow blanket, so that when I have children, I will have something to cover my little daughter with. I smile thinking about this, and now, I feel I am in need of a nap.