Life and Death and Saturday

Oh Darling,

Here we are, another Saturday.  Here I am, looking at any number of things I have scattered about the house trying to will myself to organize them and straighten them into some semblance of sense.  Why do I do that?  Why do I waste time thinking about things when I could just take care of them and free my mind to wander about and wrap around the dream of the Kate Spade handbags I am trying to will into my life?  On the other hand, why do I have to put away the glitter nail polish that’s sitting next to the computer?  Maybe I find it inspiring.  Maybe I like the pop of color it adds to the room.  In any event, it’s been there for over a week so maybe that’s where it actually belongs and I’m just torturing myself for nothing.  I’m good at that.  Do you know what else I’m good at?  I’m a master at keeping coupons that I am never going to use.  Fifteen percent off of paint?  Sure.  Maybe I’ll buy myself a shed for Christmas, paint it with polka dots and stuff it full of the things I can’t seem to put where they belong.  Makes perfect sense.

Some days I think that if I actually took care of everything on my to do list my brain would atrophy with nothing to obsess over.  All of my clothes hung up, laundry done, dishes put away, bills paid, paperwork filed, doctor’s appointments made….now what?  What does one do when they have a handle on their life?  And does one ever have a handle on their life?  Is there ever a point in time when all is perfect and taken care of and while standing very still you can’t imagine or see one single thing that needs to be done?  If so, I’m unaware of it.  Maybe those with special wrist watches come across that time and it’s glorious.  I have watches but I find myself trying to beat them or hide from them.  Want to know a secret?  Sometimes I wear them when they don’t work anymore.  I like how they look.  And I can find out the time in any number of ways.  Why get rid of something that doesn’t function anymore if it looks pretty.  Isn’t pretty a function?

As you can tell I’m feeling very deep today… and shallow.  I’m a juxtaposition or is it contradiction?  Whatever it is, it drives me nuts on the days I don’t think it’s awesome.

Ok, back to the polka dot discussion.  Let’s set up some time to paint sometime soon.  First we’ll need to shed shop.  That’s imperative as our painting of the shed hinges on having a shed to paint.  Are you at the point yet where you think I’ve gone mad?  That’s OK.  It shouldn’t be new to you.  We’ve known each other a long time and I’m fairly certain your familiar with my eccentricities and my coupon wasting.  I remember when I was a kid telling my Mom that it wasn’t a bargain buying fifteen bags of Smarties if nobody eats them but the point was really moot as who doesn’t really enjoy a Smarty?

A woman I went to grade school and high school with was killed in a car accident this past week.  I know, there wasn’t much of a transition there but I’m not sure how to eloquently introduce that into a conversation.  It feels like such an ugly thing to admit.  Truthfully, I don’t really think much about grade school or high school these days.  I was always this painfully awkward girl who was shy and super self conscious and bumbled through friendships as I tried to understand my life.  I didn’t have many friends.  It wasn’t that there weren’t friends to be had but, I didn’t really know how to have them.  I was and still am an introvert who longs to be more comfortable around people.  Add that to a classroom full of kids all finding their way and I found life tough to navigate.  Much tougher though is seeing someone post photos of their daughters on Facebook, seeing their smiling faces, and then finding out their Mom is dead.  It’s hard.  It feels harsh and more than anything it is a heartbreak.  When I read the news, I was stunned.  I still find death a difficult thing to understand.  I don’t like knowing that people get peeled away, that one day I will be peeled away.  How does the world continue?  How do her daughters continue?  Maybe that’s not for me to know.  I wonder about it though.  I wonder because I feel like sometimes people are out there living their lives and then boom, something detonates and as the pieces come down you need to figure out how to reassemble them in a way where there is some kind of sense.  Sense seems to be hard to come by in those situations and it makes me tremendously sad that anyone has to deal with or live through that.  It hurts.  It hurts because she was kind.  She was kind to me and she was a Mom and she loved and breathed and carved out her life and it’s too soon for her to go.  I wish it could be different.  I wish it could all be different, all of that stuff in life that pains people, that hurts them down deep in a place that feels like it was only created so it could absorb the blow when it had to.  It feels unfair and no matter how many times I’m told life isn’t supposed to be, it just feels enormously unfair.

I’m not sure what to say now that I’ve said all of that.  I wasn’t planning on addressing it as it’s a private thing and we weren’t close enough where I could say I knew her now.  I don’t want to insult her memory and act as though I’ve sustained this loss when those closest to her are dealing with that.  At the same time though it also didn’t feel right to not acknowledge it.  I didn’t want to let it pass.  I didn’t want to pretend it didn’t happen.  I didn’t want my life to continue on without saying that more than anything I wish her family and her friends peace and strength and whatever it is they need to get through.  Sometimes when something like this happens it reminds you to stop sweating the glitter nail polish next to the computer or to get off your ass and put it where you think it should go.  The third option of course is to acknowledge that you are someone who thrives on the idea of a polka dotted shed full of pretty bits and pieces that need a home.  If that keeps you going, if that gives your mind a place to go, if it helps you focus on something when the enormity of what may be going on around you feels so heavy, go with it.

There you have it.  My Saturday.  There was a trip to TJ Maxx thrown in.  I almost ventured into the city to see a friend not knowing it was the Philadelphia Marathon weekend down there which led me to a detour that took me a very long time to navigate.  I’ve eaten more chocolate covered pecans than I promised myself I would.  I caught up with a friend and had a long conversation on the phone while sitting in the sun spot on the bed lamenting to myself about how long my toenails are.  I purchased two heads of romaine lettuce I hope I actually eat.  I wore jeans that made me feel sexier than almost my entire wardrobe combined.  I kissed the top of my husband’s head, avoided a call from a bill collector and hugged my Dad tight.  It was a good Saturday I was grateful to have.  There was Christmas music and a flannel shirt.  I signed back onto Facebook which I love, hate, am frustrated by, enjoy, use for entertainment and alternate between feeling connected and so disconnected I want to revamp my entire life.  I watched an episode of The Fashion Fund which had me thinking yet again that I need to learn how to create clothing or jewelry or something beautiful.  Like I said, it was a good Saturday.  And I just wanted to tell you about it.  I hope your day was a good one.  Was it? Tell me about it.  I’d love to know.

Until then or the next time I decide to disclose the details of my day-to-day…

Talk soon.