Skip to main content

Some Kinda Feeling

I'm feeling some kinda way, but I can't put my finger on it.

Michael Jackson is dead, and a part of my childhood died, too...but that's not it. He wasn't my cousin, and I'll get over it.

I'm thinking of Granny more. She, too, was an integral part of my childhood -- my life, even -- and Michael's death makes Granny's just a little fresher.

Plus, I recently had a conversation with my favorite uncle. I always love talking to him, but because he lived with Granny and took care of her, I'm reminded again that Granny is gone when I speak to him.

When does the pain of the loss go away? You can move on and get past it, but it seems to catch up with you when you least expect it.

Add to the mix that my life is in turmoil right now because, ladies and gentlemen, I have to move again. For those of you keeping score, this will make the third move in less than three years. And since I haven't been able to find a gig to supplement my meager pittance from my part-time gig, I don't have the money to find a place. Therefore, I'm going to have to move in with Mr. Wonderful until I can secure said employment.

I have never wanted to live with a man -- at least not without the benefit of marriage. While I love Mr. Wonderful, I'm nowhere near wanting to commit my life to him. Plus, I wasn't raised to live with a man like that.

All of which brings me back to my original thought...

I'm feeling some kinda way, and I can't put my finger on it. However, I know I don't like it. I'll keep you posted.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

He's Gone...For Real

My uncle died. He actually ceased to live. I don't know how to handle this. Even though he was my mother's brother, he was so much more than that to me. He was the coolest cat on the block, He set the standard that every man had to meet. He was the one I compared every man in my life to. For all intents and purposes, he was my de facto dad. I am stunned. I feel like someone knocked the wind out of my body. I grew up watching him. If he sat up straight, I wanted to sit up straight. I once caught him standing up to pee. I thought I'd do that when I grew up, too. (You can just imagine that conversation). That's the thing...he never shied away from my craziness. When I discovered what a father was -- at the tender age of five -- I purposed in my heart to find one for myself. I asked every man I knew, including him, if they'd be my daddy. He said, "I can't be your dad. I'm your uncle." When I pressed, he gently explained that he already had a significan...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Middle Aged Rant

I am single. I’ve never had a husband. I’ve never given birth to a child. I’ve never lived with a man over six months. I am 54. I’m not classically pretty. I’m overweight. I’m not very tall. My brother says I’m a unicorn. My friends are kind enough not to make me feel small. My mother mentions in passing that she wants me to find a husband. I try not to be sad about my state. I’ve lived a life that some would find enviable. I had my dream job, met and interviewed great people, made great friends, and traveled all over the world. I have a new career that I find oddly fulfilling. Men don’t always like that. Some of them are jealous because I’m not easily impressed. Some are jealous because I’ve done things they haven’t. Some are jealous because I’ve lived on both coasts. I don’t know what to do. I can’t change my life – not that I want to. I can’t change my past – not that I want to. I can’t change myself –not that I want to. I just want someone to see me, not the image I present. I want...
Post a Comment
Read more

I Own My Tears

I own my tears. I used this as a hashtag on a Facebook post. I was talking about the movie, "The Fault in Our Stars." If you've seen it, you know what I mean, and I won't spoil it for you. Of course, you know me -- it's deeper than that. I need to say it out loud... I own my tears. New Boo meant the world to me. He really did. Our relationship meant the world to me. It really, really did. And now it's over and he's gone -- seemingly for good. That makes me cry more than I want to, and more than I have ever imagined I would. And while I hate it, I need to do this. I need to mourn this thing in its entirety because it has truly changed my life. I own my tears. I own the fact that I am hurt. I own the fact that I'm mourning a relationship that I wanted to work more than life itself. I wanted to be a part of a couple, and eventually a family. That may well happen for me one day. Today, though, it doesn't look likely. So yes, I cry. And you ...
1 comment
Read more