Reunion part 2

Lots of pressure on my shoulders this morning. Pretty big shoes to fill as my peeps anxiously await my words from last night.

Yep. I am feeling the pressure.

Although that could just be my pounding headache.

Reunion.
Walking in was the most difficult moment. Not that I am insecure.
Certainly not because I felt uncomfortable.  But because I was alone.
Walking in solely as myself
No shields ~ no armor.
Just me.

Holly Herman.

Thank God the walk to the back of Poor Phil's is a short one.  I was immediately greeted by a few 'readers'. Hilariously adding that what happens on this night will surely be topic for me in the morning.

Indeed.

In no time I was 16 again.
Glancing from side to side I was amid an array of 'old' familiar faces.  Beautifully sculpted.  Maybe a wrinkle here or there, but sculptures of great beauty.

Of time gone by.

Of a life lived.

Chiseled into their flesh was their story.  Their own moments. Times that define them and only them.
Today.
Accomplishments, tears, happiness and hope all lined their faces. Intricate maps of  lifelong stories.  Only theirs to tell..  Only theirs to own.




The compliments fed my appetite and the kindness was over flowing. The comedians were still in place. The jocks still held their stature.
The wisdom of growth was shared by many.
Moments that reminded me that what was once, Is no longer.

Perception and reality.
Funny how the memory can play tricks on you.  Makes a very vivid canvas a tad cloudy. Memories are the moments that we alone choose to remember.
They are our keepsakes.
Our gifts of moments gone.
How and what we remember is ours to keep.

'Popular' came up a few times.  We rolled our eyes around the 6 letter word as if there was no meaning.  Again perception.
Isn't that all the word is?  Does anyone really own that right? A label that today seems wicked.  As if to be elite.
To stand above.

Not me.
I want to stand right by your side.


Gathered among me were people.
Real people.
All shapes and sizes.
Colors, opinions and pasts.
Great beings.
Bold.
Dynamic.
Individual.
Curious.
Compassionate.
People.

I'm  glad that I knew the girl I used to be.
She was 'something'. A girl in search of greatness.  Ready to conquer the world. Didn't know that then.
But I certainly know it now.

Can't go back.
But damn glad we  together can go forward.
Together.

My love and wishes for great happiness and good health.

Until the next time.

venting

Its gonna get ugly today. 
Short and sweet and hopefully straight to the point.
I'm gonna vent.
Why?
 Because I can.

What lovely words I receive from my reading audience. 

Mostly private.

Unfortunately, not to be shared.

But all inspiring, beautiful, thoughtful comments.

One stands out to me,

A friend from back in the day.
Kinda too cool.
Untouchable.
High on the ladder.
Back in the day.
Now even bigger, bolder.
He is actually 'Somebody'.
He writes to tell me "Thanks".
"Thanks for sharing myself with him."
Wow.
 (I love how time and growing up puts us all on the same playing field)

I am lucky to be surrounded by lots of smoke.  It clouds you up just enough to think you are on the right path.  We all doubt ourselves.  I just pray that the doubt stays quiet and a bit hidden.
You must stay focused on the prize. Yep- A kind word goes a long frigging way.
 So, why is it that it takes just ONE?
One single non believer to poke a hole in your faith.
Please don't tell me that it shouldn't bother me....I know what Dr. Phil would say.
 But be honest with yourself.  When you feel passionate about something...The nay- sayer's can rip right threw you.
 Sometimes you feel as though you are standing alone. 
Naked.
 Raw.

Why shouldn't I dance in the rain?  Eat the last bite of chocolate?  Have a martini on Tuesday or dress in sparkles? 
Be exposed.
Honest.
Who will it hurt?
Why not live to my fullest potential~  after all,   its only up to me.  
 Its my  play.  You only get ONE shot.
I am the only actress in my life story.
 Shouldn't I be able to write it any damn way I want?

After a friend read my 'Reunion' blog he said, "What would possess you to put that on there?"
(I think he meant the photos from 30 years ago....I can still drean can't I?)

Huh?
Wait?
What?
Seriously?
Ummmmm- Have you not heard me?
My "I am who I am" mission is gonna need to be a little louder.
I almost threw up. 
Bile was close to the top...Maybe I should have just clocked him.


Okay- Game on. 
I shouldn't give a rats ass what 1 person (fine maybe a few) think...
Judge someone that is interested. 
You don't like it?

 You don't approve? 

You don't understand.

Then turn away.
Don't look.
Don't listen.
Don't read it.
Don't pretend to walk with me.
But judge me? 
Nope.

Loud, manic, joyous, silly, fierce, glittery, bizarre,  bright, bold, childish, artistic, loving, funny, cocky, tall, brave,open minded, proud, loyal, passionate and kind.
A powerful mom of 5.  A warrior making a difference. 
If only in my own mind.

I am who I am.

"What possesses me?"


Maybe I should have just clocked him.......

The perfect gift

Can you imagine my dismay as I sit here with no idea on what to get my mom for her birthday?

Not just any birthday. But a big, beautiful, bursting 80th birthday. 

I have already filled her cabinets and counter tops with crap over the years.  I have created masterpieces with kids photos and Monet's with photo-shop.  She has the grandest clothing. A fresh pedicure.  Free haircuts and a closet full of shoes.

Honest to God.

What is the perfect gift?

Maybe a little something to open.  Something sinful to taste.  A new scent to wear and maybe a new cloak of many colors.

Something big.
Unique.
Breathtaking and wonderful.
Just like her.

Yep- this year she will receive my words.
Powerful

meaningful

straight from my right ventricle.
Honest, raw and inspiring.

Here it goes mom.

The gift that keeps on giving.

Me.


It took me awhile to see you.
To really focus.
To understand what it means to be a mom.
Through your grace,
Your dedication
Wisdom.
Strength
Desires and
Passion.
I get it...I really do understand.

I gained some clarity on the day my first child was put into my arms. 
When I smelled the unforgettable scent of her skin.  The promises that I whispered into her ear.
The bargains I made with God to keep her protected.
She would be loved.
Nurtured.
warm.
safe.

Forever.

I remember in vivid technicolor the times you would pick me up no matter of the time. No questions asked.  Just giving me a soft place to fall.
I remember the love for art that you instilled in me as we entered the halls of the vast museums.
The curiosity that was poured into my soul.
from the zoo.
the playground,
candy shop,
pool,
and vacations.
I remember the moments that shaped my future.
 Without knowing you gave me gifts of hope.
laughter
hard work
and believing.
It never wavered.
You were my  loudest cheerleader .
My one loyal,
honest, faithful 
true friend.

I am who I am solely because of you.

My steady foundation.
My bricks and mortar.
You gave me my wings to fly and if they ever bent you were right there to straighten them.

I cannot imagine a life without you in it.
The gifts that you have bestowed upon me are priceless.
they cannot be measured.
Words do not give them justice.
But my actions must speak louder.

You have taught me to make a difference.  To believe in myself.
To laugh at myself.   But never at others.  To realize that "It Is What It Is".
To accept.
To know that I can be anything- anywhere at anytime.

With great confidence and pride.
To walk tall.
To acquire my own happiness.


You have given me gifts without price tags.
I will make a difference in this world. All in your honor.
I am a mom of great value.
Full of integrity and sprinkled with glitter.
Your legacy will live on,
that is my gift.
I will carry on believing that I can make a difference in this world.


You are loved.
You are appreciated.
You are my foundation and my mentor.
You are my muse and my wing man.
You are loved beyond measure.
You are my friend
and my confident.

You are my spectacular mom,


Happy Birthday

High School Reunion

Another secret revealed.

 I'm scared to death to go to my high school reunion.
 Fine- maybe not scared to death. But apprehensive to say the least.

Why? 
Maybe because going back is nearly impossible. 

Maybe erasing the past memories and moments would be for the better.

 To have those that once judged be off of the jury.

 To walk in solely as yourself.

The here and now self.  
The self that took years to mold and create.

The art in progress.

I wish to God I knew then what I know now. 
The friendships that I would have nurtured.  The boys that I would have  taken a second look at.
Those first impressions that were so very wrong. 
Trying so hard to be the person we thought we should be. 
Instead of growing into the person we would be.

Who would have known that the red head down the street would inspire me with his 'toys for tots'  event?  Or the boy from homeroom that is now an influential gay rights activist.
The girl with the awkward smile is now the one who holds your child's hand during their chemo treatment..
The men and women who make a difference daily.
Who would have known?

It takes so much time to develop.
Blood, sweat and tears time.
Raw moments.

Rough, edgy, painful moments.

Growing up.

 Today the word, popular just doesn't fit into my vocabulary.
I am a mixture of hard work, value, inspiration and love.
I am who I am.

Certainly didn't know that then.
Back in the day.
It was all about Spires shoes.
Getting the right table at Murphy's for fries.
Making the dance team.
Sitting under the clock.
Hoping that someone would notice that you were worthy.

Today its about making the right choices.
 Giving back. 
Loving those that need to be held.
Helping
Selfless acts.
Random acts.
Judge- less acts.
.
Taking the day and seizing it for all its worth.
Being the change.
Reaching for more.
Making a damn difference.

So this year when I walk into the room, I will notice all new faces.
 Not the faces of my past.
Merely reminders of what we once were.
Excited to learn who we have become.

Do not judge my past for it has shaped my future.
Embrace the new day for it holds all things that are possible.

"I am who I am"..... that certainly took a long time.

Protect

Yesterday I sat here.  Struggling to find a topic.  I can only write if the passion flows.  Words usually purge right outa me if I am excited.  Inspired or just plain interested.
I filled the page with my soap box lecture on "Its not my child".  Then I erased the entire thing.  I realized that Its just too damn simple.
Yes 'IT IS YOUR CHILD'- Its all of our children.
But those who need to listen won't.
So forget about it.

Now I'm interested.

Here is a subject matter that I talk about a lot.  I have an amazing forum. Right in my hair salon.  The public (aka my clients~friends) are allowed to freely discuss while having their hair done.  No pressure, no judgments.  Just good old fashion conversation.

We have been discussing Nate's basketball game.  Talking about it in great detail.   How beautiful it is to see a young boy or girl with the use of only one arm command the ball like Jordan with utter poise.
To witness the determination on the face of a child that is wearing leg braces run down the court with such grace as  Mikhail Baryshnikov.
Beautiful sights.
  Moments embedded in your mind for a lifetime.  Lessons learned with no lectures. No guide books, no tests.
  Visuals so damn powerful. Words have already been written by great poets. Stories have already been told.  But these moments are different. Bold, vivid, life changing moments.
The moment when YOU realize, its not about the score.
At the end it truly is how you played the friggen game.

They all played with a smile.  Grins from ear to ear. Patting the back of their opposing teammate when they scored.  Helping a friend get down the court with a helping hand. No fighting, no pushing.  No drama.  No worries.  No cares. Just good old fashion basketball.

Of course there was a little dancing. 

But the salon conversation always leads to tears.  Either from the present or from the past.  But tears. The stories of how they welled up.  How their husbands began to melt.  But tears. Salty stains trickling down their cheeks.
But why?

That is what I ponder.
Tears?
Alas- through much discussion we figured it out. (for the moment at least)
Yes, we are proud.
We are happy and full of bursting joy.
We are humbled by the standards set by those that may be seen as 'handicapped'.
We are moved.  We are ...........Hmmmmmmm?
We are just watching a basketball game.

We tear because we in that moment. In that second of time.  We  understand the simple lessons. The obvious is written in sharpie....Be proud, be humbled, be happy.
BUT-

"Protect those that need to be protected."
Wow- I got it. LOUD and clear. I am a mom of children that need to be protected. Maybe one more than the other.  I didn't know then.  I don't think I signed up for this.

Tears are not necessarily from sadness.  Tears are wet wake up calls. A reaction to something that is unexpected. A tug at  your heart. 

You felt it.  You tasted it.  You too will wear the duty with honor and integrity. You will PROTECT!
  I wear the badge with grace and humility.  It takes very strong shoulders. But with your gentle nudge we can do this.  We can honor, love, nurture and believe.  It truly does take a village.

Do not feel sorry.
  Do not be sad.
  The tears are gentle warm reminders that its nothing more than a game. 
 After the score boards lights are off.  The stands are cleared of candy wrappers and remnants of time gone by.  These Special children just need our love.  Our joy.  Our helping hand.
They just need us to protect them from harms way.  To give them the right road to travel. To gently guide them through life with a soothing helping hand. To protect.

Lessons learned my friends.
Its just NOT the score. Its how you played the game.

Could NOT have written this better myself! Wow!

The beauty on the left is Betsy!

Betsy Traynor

10:47pm Jan 14

(Dear readers- Today's blog was NOT written by me.  Actually I could have NOT written this any better!)
All I can say after receiving this is,  
WOW!  Enjoy!
Hol (Dan, Linds, Nick, Luke, Ben, and Nate too),

Just wanted to take a minute (or maybe ten… I tend to ramble) to say thank you, thank you, ten million times, thank you, for not only inviting me into your fabulous world, but also for providing me with one of the most beautiful days I have ever experienced.

I’ve been blessed with plenty of wonderful “this is what it’s all about” moments… don’t get me wrong. Up until this point, I’ve always thought that celebrating during an NBA draft party for my college friend Travis was at the top of that list. There was such glitter in the air that night – friends, family, teammates, coaches, and fans all gathered around as a 24 year old boy from Fond du Lac, Wisconsin waited for his name to be called. We hoped and prayed a little bit more with each pick that passed, and finally, we heard the announcer say “With the 38th pick in the 2004 NBA draft, the Orlando Magic select Travis Diener from Marquette University.” Fireworks. Smiles. Goosebumps. Hugs. Laughter. High fives. Never-ending tears of joy. It was an absolutely magical moment, and I felt so lucky to be a part of it. For so long, that night at the Press Box Sports Bar took the cake for “it” moment of my life. Today that changed.

I didn’t know what to expect before I arrived at Brother Rice. I knew that there would be a crowd (Holly, you always know how to attract a crowd) and I knew there would be basketball. But the rest remained a mystery to me. When I walked into the gym, I immediately saw a sea of teal, and I was unbelievably proud to have my own teal shirt. (I wasn’t even there for 2 minutes and I already had my first “gigantic heart smile” chalked up on the board... wow!) There were hugs, high fives, and smiles everywhere, and I already knew that this was my kind of place.

Cue the opening ceremony. Cheerleaders of all shapes and sizes with grins from ear to ear. Priceless. Enter Nate “The Great” Simon. Running in like a champion, grabbing a rose, and jumping into Mom’s arms. Bring on the tears of pure joy. And then come 20 more kids, looking like mini versions of Jordan, Pippen, Wade, Kobe, and Lebron. Absolutely breathtaking. I found myself in a state of happiness that I can’t even put into words… and the game hadn’t even started yet!

The actual game was the perfect mixture of entertaining, heart-warming, and inspiring. Although my eyes stayed glued to that gym floor until the final buzzer sounded, my mind wandered elsewhere. Something inside that gym smacked me upside the head and made me realize that everything else, all of the petty, insignificant things that had been clogging up my brain, didn’t really matter at all.

I wasted 3 years with a jerk. I have a bunch of grey and white roots that desperately need to be touched up. My favorite True Religions don’t fit anymore. Work isn’t challenging or interesting. I don’t have an extra $500 laying around for Tory Burch riding boots. I need new tires. I didn’t get up and workout this morning. To all of it… SO WHAT?! Pardon my French, but WHO THE FUCK CARES?! None of it matters!

What does matter, however, is the feeling I got in that gym, watching precious and innocent kids play the greatest basketball game of their lives. Making it count… THAT’S WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT! Who cares if I (finally) broke up with a jerk?! Now I have time to do the things I love to do (like spend time with wonderful people and experience new adventures) and even more importantly, I get to love myself again. My hair needs a dye job? Big deal. I’ll get to it. My jeans don’t fit anymore? Make them fit! If a little boy with ankle braces can run up and down the basketball court like he’s a seasoned NBAer, and a girl in a wheel chair can cheerlead, I can most certainly put myself on the elliptical and make those jeans fit again! I’m not happy at work? Find a new job. Find a cause and devote myself to it. Make a difference. DUH! Why did it take me so long to figure this all out?!

Today, I had a moment of clarity. Today, it all finally made sense. Today, I felt the goosebumps and the gigantic smiles in my heart, and I experienced the most wonderful tears of joy. Today, I realized that I can make a difference. Today was a perfect day, and I know that this is only the beginning. I have all of you to thank for that. I am truly blessed to have such wonderful, beautiful, and inspirational people in my life. Thank you, thank you, ten million times, thank you. I owe it all to you.

With all of the love and happiness in my heart (and believe me, it’s a lot),
Betsy

wrong turn

So many thoughts.
So little time.
Listening to my friends tell their stories has me thinking.

Why are there so many people wondering where they have gone wrong?
Wondering what made them make the wrong decisions.
I hear them.  I listen to them all.
  I am grateful that there are so many that think I am 'stable' enough to tell me their stories.
 I am a fortress.
 I am a hairdresser.
 That says it all.

Wrong decisions.

Don't we all just do the best we can?  On any given day?  This never came with guidelines or an instruction manual.  We learn, listen and behave.  Hopefully for the good.
But we make mistakes.

Sometimes BIG mistakes.

Mistakes that make us cry and ponder what the hell brought us here.
But to learn is the lesson.
How did we get here?  Bad choices, bad decisions.

Maybe not.

I firmly believe that I made a wrong turn in my 20's.  I think about it all the time.  I especially think about it when the cold, stinging reality of Chicago winter kicks me in my ass.

I should have turned left.  But I turned right.

I use to think it was a gigantic  mistake . The wrong turn that I can never change back. 
I have come down this road for far too long.

Can't regret. Wishes, should haves.  Not in my vocabulary.


California is not going anywhere.

 At least for now.
 Maybe it really wasn't apart of my dream.  My desire could have been misread. 
 Maybe my left turn was not suppose to be until later.  After a few chapters had been written.  Maybe it wasn't a wrong turn but a detour.

Life as I know it would not  be the same.

 I am happy that I made the right.  I can always turn left.

Bad decisions, bad choices.  Yes- we have all made a few.

Cannot erase what has been done.
But would we really want to ?
  
Mistakes and bad decisions are merely fortunes in reverse. If we made no mistakes at all, we would not be trying.  Trying is the basics to everything.  Never trying is just not worth living.

Words have been written and moments are only memories.  Reminders that all battle scars are truly beauty marks in disguise.   Don't all of our mistakes and misfortunes bind us together?  Doesn't it give us our character?  Our armour? 

Take your wonder and your worry and seal them away tight.  No hiding behind regret.
There is no shield from the past.
 What is done- is done.

Tomorrow is you're shining opportunity to fix what is not right.  To brighten what is dark.

Turn right if you have to.

Just remember without mistakes and regrets we would have no foundation to grow.

One of my favorite mantra's;

"It is what it is"


Indeed.

I will be on that sunny California beach some day.  Sand beneath my freshly manicured toes.  Children by my side or writing from their far away adventures. Reminiscing about my past.
Mistakes, and bad decisions and all.
Keeping them as reminders close to the surface.  That once again I have a choice. To turn in any direction I WANT TO.
Kissing the cold of the Chicago winters behind me. It may take me longer than I had originally planned.  But hell.  I have nothing but time.

Glorious time.

Audrey Hepburn

A dear friend sent this to me and thought I would enjoy.


AS women (men probably too) there are days that we feel tired, ugly, overweight and alone.

 The trick is to not allow those days to run together.

Beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder.

BE someone that radiates from the inside.

Beauty can be infectious.
Beauty on the outside fades with every single moment.
Beauty on the inside can be saved and cherished for a lifetime.

I believe that all my children are "Beautiful". But if you were to meet them, you would realize that their beauty is much deeper than their appearance.  They are all beautiful on the inside.


Create and develop the BEAUTY you want the world to see.

Just listen to Ms. Hepburn.

Paying it forward

The generosity of others has always amazed me. I suppose it shouldn't.   I am a huge giver.   I give till there is nothing more to give. Giving feels good.  It feels right.I don't think I ever expect anything in return. Maybe just an honest thank you would suffice.

It took me awhile to learn that giving is not just tangible.  Giving of ones self is so much  more valuable.  Oprah tried so hard to get the world to wake up.  She spent hours, days and months shouting from the roof tops to pay it forward.  She even gave us the tools to do such kind deeds.
 Truly listen to a friend, with both ears open.  Give a genuine compliment to a stranger. Offer a helping hand in any way possible to a needy family. It's not about the money.  Helping, by giving of yourself is actually free.


Just like reading a Leo Bescalia book.  The Buddha feelings are real.

But sometimes the high only stays with you temporarily.  Unless you shed the crap of wanting something in return.  Paying it forward may not seem like an immediate gratification.  But I can assure you the benefits outweigh the momets of selfishness.

Nathaniel is always bringing 'gifts' into our home.  The out pouring of love has been immeasurable. 
 Once again at our local 7-11 store Nathaniel made sure he has said hello to everyone.  A genuine hello that follows with 'Whats your name?"  On this day he met a man named John. They strike up a small conversation and John bids us his farewell.
A week later we were back in our local hangout and Nate spots John from across the store. Nate shouts "Hello John"  with pure radiance.  John cannot believe that this little guy remembered him.  Especially that he remembered his name.
Their friendship begins.
John later returns to the store with an autograph from Michael Jordan for Nate. (Turns out that Nate's new friend is M.J.'s bodyguard!)

Then  there is the friend from the neighborhood who heard that his brother was getting rid of their old computer. Immediately he thought of Nate. Took the computer home, spent days cleaning it out and delivered the desk top straight to Natie's bedroom.

Or the clients that never forget to bring Nate a Halloween goodie bag. Or a toy that they spotted that they thought Nate would enjoy, and learn from.

Yep- I have been rendered speechless on those days.


Its not about the monetary value. 
Its that in that moment they thought of Nate.
  Nate somehow touched them gently enough to leave a footprint.

It is Nate that starts the 'paying it forward' chain of events.  His simple 'hello' or his  heart felt smile leaves you with a feeling of pureness.  Pure kindness. Nate truly wants NOTHING in return. He merely wants to meet a new friend. 

 The gift of kindness oozes out of Nate.

It is infectious.
It is honest.
It is pure.
It is loyal.

It is priceless.

  It is a rare occasion that someone does not let his sunshine in.  I feel sorry for those people that turn away from Nate's genuine appeal to invite them into his  world.

Nate has taught us all that KINDNESS is free.
"Hello's" can be given away.
Compliments that are real and given away with conviction are  priceless.

Just say hello.

Pay it forward.

secrets

Okay, So I have never talked about this.  Not out loud at least.  I talk about it in great detail privately.  Deep inside the multiple layers of my very complicated brain.  But since I find writing to be a cleansing of my soul.  I think its finally time to try to figure out why the hell  I am such a whack job.

The earliest memories of my father are great ones.  A powerful man.  A man of value, hard work and dedication.  My memory is in black and white.  Even Sepia at times.  He is handsome.  A cross between Walt Disney and Vincent Price.  A real actor. A Brooklyn boy.  An amazing brother.  A loving dad and a generous husband.

I wanted for nothing.  I was his golden child.   I could do no wrong. I was his gift and he was my dad.

He was tall with silver hair. Perfectly coiffed at all times. He wore immaculate 3 piece suits with silk ties.  He was encrusted with gold chains and a Leo the Lion medallion. A large Star of David shined proudly across his chest.  Thick bracelet's that Mr. T would envy.  Rings dripping with diamonds. He wore the finest cologne and drove the sharpest car.  A hard working man. Full of integrity.  Covered with pride.

 Yep- He was somebody- to everybody.  He would walk into a restaurant and they would shout "The God Father is here!"  (No gangsta'- just pretend)  He was a big man.  A generous man.  A kind man that would never meet a stranger.  He would tell you that you were beautiful.
You would believe.
 He would make you think you were perfect. He was strong and brave and I loved him.

He was my dad.

Irving Zelig Herman

I. Zel for short.

He was a mystery.  A Hollywood looking character with a past that we could not touch or even see.

I had love, admiration and respect for him.  He was my father. I was his everything.

I wish I told him.
I wish I said it.
I wish I
I wish
I....

The mind is an amazing thing.  It can remember only what you wish.  Erase what you want to go away.  It keeps memories locked away until you are ready to open. Buried right under your skin.
Buried for only you to know they are there. Itching at the surface. Bubbling to the top. Creating who you really are. Slowly molding you into yourself.  Buried but not gone.  Hidden but not forever.

The end came before I was ready.

Maybe you are never ready.

His shell was missing.  The costume and masks were all gone.
 One day he was a man from the big screen.  The next I blinked and he was a mere skeleton. Almost unrecognizable. 
Yet- only for his eyes.
He had amazing electric eyes. Nate's eyes.  Crystal blue.  Like looking into a magnificent ocean. But they no longer held hope.  They were gaunt and gone.

Cancer.

It is such an ugly fucking disease.
It was over quicker than it started. No more dreams.  No more memories. No more "good nights" or "it will all be okay." 
It wasn't okay.

My pain is still raw. Close to the surface like the seeds in a pomegranate.  Ready to bleed at any moment.

I have a choice.  Its all I took from that time. Its all that I wanted from that time.

TO LIVE.
LIVE TO THE FULLEST.
LIVE LOUD
LIVE BRAVE
LIVE LIKE A FUCKING ROCK STAR IF I WANT TO.
BUT LIVE.

I wear the tattoo. Scarred into my soul.   Branded.
It can all end before you even realize that it started.

 No second chances.

No dress rehearsals.

 Just one shot.

\

Live every moment as if it is your last.

Sing even if you don't know the words.
Dance without any rhythm.
Embrace the cold and rejoice in the sun.
Savor the taste and try something new.

Be someone worth knowing.

Do something.
Choose to be happy.
Just tell them you love them.

No second chances.

Big Red Slurpee

I remember the day clearly.
It was a beautiful, beginning of the summer day.  Nate was in the mood for a Slurpee. Visiting our local 7-11 is one of Natie's favorite things to do.  Having a Slurpee is right up there too. I truly believe that a big red Slurpee can cure almost all that ails you. Nate is the Mayor of our local store.  He is the greeter. He is welcomed. He is loved.

(Nate did have pants on that day.)

On this day Nate chose to dress up as Elmo. 

I have never directed Nate on what to be. Or  how to be it. Nate is Nate.  For better - for worse.
Some days dressed like Elmo.

We jump in the car and I am about to pull out when the older kids spot us. Hey "free Slurpee's?"
They  pile on in.  They give Elmo a chuckle and in minutes we are in front of our local store. (Yes, maybe it is only 3 blocks away. If we walk,  Nate  fakes a bum hip on the way home).

My oldest son realizes what is just about to happen.  He shouts, "No way is Nate going in dressed as Elmo!"

Sure he is.

Nate proudly swings open the door and shouts "I"m here".  The owner greets Nate with a "Hello
Elmo."

No it's ME Nate!!!!   And Nate begins to giggle.  He cannot believe he pulled off his impersonation.

Its funny.  The older you get you realize that it just doesn't matter what you wear. 
Khaki's and polo's do not define you.  Its your true self that radiates above and beyond the cotton and threads.  The costumes  we choose to adorn ourselves with are merely shields.  Its what lies beneath that matters.  
Doesn't it?
I don't have to teach Nate to dress to the worlds standards.  I need to teach my sons to accept that he is who he is.

"I Am Who I AM."
I am Nate.

If you don't like fluffy red characters. Turn the other way.

I will not conform to your rules. Follow me instead.
Live loud.  Live brave. Live happy.  Live red and furry.