Saying I love you

I say I love you all the time.

To my family.

My kids.

My friends.

I have to say, as far as saying I love you goes I’m in for a penny, in for a pound.

I have no problem saying it when I feel it.

I’ve noticed however, that there are two times when people say I love you when you should be suspicious.

One.

They say it during The Act.

Everyone knows hormones enhance the urge to bond and say whatever comes in our brain.

Sometimes it’s kink.

Sometimes it’s romance.

Two.

They say it when drunk.

I have experience with this too.

Both saying it to others and having others say it to me when we’re a few drinks past good taste.

I love EVERYBODY when I’m tipsy.

And lately, drunk men have been coming out of the woodwork to claim their affection for me.

One texted it over Kik, and don’t think I wasn’t amused by that.

And another said it during a party.

And the third guy just spouted it out one night, while drinking with his pals.

And you know, even when people say it and I know it’s fleeting, I still get a secret little thrill from it.

Wouldn’t you?

I don’t have a love story

I don’t have a love story.

And that’s okay.

I don’t need one.

The love in my life is so overflowing from other sources, from my family and friends, that it seems unbearably selfish to wish for more.

So I won’t keep wishing for a love story.

I already have too many to choose from.

Let me tell you some love stories.

My dad once bought me an enormous basket of every single type of fruit that Lunardi’s sold because I cried postpartum that all my fruit spoiled while I was in the hospital giving birth to my rainbow baby, Duncan.

Or my 15 year old birthmother who had to make an impossible decision about putting me up for adoption.

How heart wrenching to give up a beloved child.

There’s the time my sister-in-law cried with me because I was heartbroken over a breakup.

She felt my suffering like it was her own.

And of course, there’s the time my sister and I giggled as we sat in the back of a car in a hotel parking lot, drinking beer and thinking we were being unobtrusive.

We were SO obvious!

There’s my mom who spent countless nights staying up late, baking cookies for a bake sale or putting the final touches on a costume or wiping my fevered forehead.

And my cousin used to invite me to visit her on weekends because she knew I was alone and had no one to hang with,

So you see, I’ve not devoid of love.

I’m flush with it.

I don’t have a love story because I have love stories.

Love Letter #1

I wrote my first of many love letters to a dear “old” friend of mine.

We happened to be texting.

And I’m not sure if it was the effects of watching Ellen Degeneres or the booze I was drinking, but the love just started pouring out of me.

I started out by pointing out what a gift he is in my life:

“I know what a gift you are.  You’re extraordinary.  A true gentleman and a romantic with a generous heart and a playful spirit.”

I went on to tell him, “I think it’s important to tell loved ones that they are loved.  You are one of my favorite people in the world.  And I love you.”

There’s so much I admire about him.

He’s a hopeless romantic.

He is so full of love that he can’t bear to not have someone to give it to.

I love his dry sense of humor and how he is self-deprecating about the things that worry him the most.

And if something happened to me tomorrow, he knows that  he has made my life better by just being in it and that I love him dearly.

And do you know what?

He loves me too!

Isn’t that a blessing?!

I could get used to writing love letters to my family and friends.

Checking up

There’s this one boyfriend who I recall very fondly.

He was sweet and sexy and talented.

And boy did we have a love affair!

In any case, it’s been YEARS since we communicated and we are not friends on Facebook.

Then, just the other day, I happen to open up LinkedIN on my phone and voilá!

An update:

My ex-boyfriend just checked out my profile.

Now, I’m not going to pretend that I don’t think of him from time to time.

Because I do.

But enough time has passed that it’s not a steady presence in my mind.

I paused a moment.

Memories came back to me and I found myself smiling.

But I did not click on the link to see his profile.

I do not tempt myself with what I can not have.

My heart is full

Nick and Kaitlin photo cred: my aunt Xondra

On a beautiful, sunny afternoon in Cloverdale, California, my cousin Nick married the love of his life.

And I was there to see it all.

I was also there to take a fall.

Yes, that’s right.

I took a tumble in my sky high heels on the grass a mere two steps away from an actual walkway.

It was HORRIBLY embarrassing.

But you know, wouldn’t be me if there wasn’t some sort of unusual occurrence to overcome.

Sometimes it’s a rude boy, other times it’s wicked high heels.

So Nick and Caitlin got married and I indeed cried when they read their vows to each other.

Nick had virtually lost his voice the night before but he managed to speak clearly and concisely about all the ways he loved Caitlin.

And I’m not kidding when I say that everyone got choked up.

It was beautiful.

Romantic.

Everything you want to see when your cousin picks out the woman of his dreams to marry.

So maybe I fell.

Big whoop.

It was clear that these two lovebirds had fallen too.

Fallen totally in love with each other.

And watching them dedicate themselves to one another for the rest of their lives, well that just turned a beautiful day in October into an extraordinary fall day in October.

My heart is full.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Mother’s Day is coming up and I am lucky enough to have two mothers.

Sherri, who gave birth to me, and Alice, who raised me.

For years while I was growing up, I would think of my birthmom on Mother’s Day and wonder if she was thinking of me as well.

And she was.

There are other important women in my life who I celebrate on Mother’s Day.

My Grandma is 94 years old.

I remember her cooking special meals for me when I visited her in Pennsylvania – pierogis, meatloaf, anise cookies, and piggies (stuffed cabbage).

Her recipes will always be my comfort food.

I also think of my sister, Lisa, on Mother’s Day.

Although she only has fur babies, she is the closest thing my boys have to a second mother and her role in our family is very important.

Also, there’s my Aunt Stacey, my cousin Jennifer, and my niece Bella, who I love and admire greatly. They are real warrior princesses and I’ll love them forever for accepting me into the family when times were rough.

Finally, I think of Barbara, my dear friend.

Her mother has passed away and so my heart goes out to her on Mother’s Day when I know she acutely feels the loss of her mom.

Of course, it’s impossible to think about Mother’s Day without thinking about the two young men who made me a mother in the first place – my sons Duncan and Gavin.

What incredible young men they are growing up to be and I find myself in awe of their spirit and zest for life.

They are, by far, the best things to ever happen to me and I thank the universe on a daily basis for allowing me to be their mother.

So on this Mother’s Day, I’m sending out my love to all the mother’s out there and all their beautiful children.

That includes YOU!

Toilets and Love

My sister tagged me in a Facebook post calling me “the eternal love optimist.”

Along with that sentiment came her “two cents” on the topic.

diarrheaLove is the best feeling.

But finding a toilet when you have diarrhea is better.

Hmmmm.

Perhaps in the moment.

I remember one time my ex-husband had the trots and we were LITERALLY A BLOCK from our house when he made me pull over so he could use the bathroom at McDonalds.

A BLOCK!

I’m sure at that time I held little value for him where as the toilet was a thing of beauty.

If I remember correctly, I think I was laughing a little bit at his plight.

Or at least trying not to laugh and failing miserably.

Let’s face it, the superiority of love over toilets doesn’t need to be proven.

It’s just a fact.

Toilets can’t love you back.

They can’t keep you warm in bed.

And they can’t hug you when you’re feeling down.

They certainly can’t give you an orgasm.

At best they can make you feel all tingly inside, but that’s just a temporary side effect of poor blood circulation.

The point to my sister’s post (and I think this is key to the difference between us) is that I am an optimist and expect love to fall in my lap at some point in the future whereas my sister is a pessimist and has found other ways to keep herself happy.

I suppose when you’re a mobile nurse driving from home to home in the Nevada mountains, finding a toilet could feel similar to falling in love.

It could.

But it’s not.

Save

Valentine’s Day and the shit storm of social media

michelleI’m bracing myself for it.

I know it’s going to come.

I’m going to log in to Facebook on February 14th and I’m going to be INUNDATED with people professing their love for one another.

It’s going to be a real shit storm.

Now, I’ve got to be honest.

When you coupled up people post how awesome your partner is and how much you love them on EVERY ANNIVERSARY, I throw up a little in my mouth.

Really?  Is that truly necessary?

Every fucking anniversary?

We get it.  You’re in love.

After all, you’re still together, right?

I just assume you think your partner is awesome and that you love them.  That’s the status quo folks.  You don’t need to post it.

It’s rather annoying, but O. K.

Then Valentine’s Day hits and my Facebook feed is filled with declarations of love and. . .

OMG, I puked a little just thinking about it.

You know what I want to hear?

I want to hear how much you love your partner when they give you their kidney when yours go bad.  Or when they stay up all night long watching over you because you are sick.  I want to hear that you love your partner when they drive 300 miles to pick you up because you got a flat tire in the middle of nowhere.  Or when they came and cleaned up your cat that got eaten by a coyote because you couldn’t bear to do it yourself.

But some trumped up, pink and red holiday sentiment just doesn’t do it for me.

Keep it real folks, that’s all I’m saying.

Just keep it real.

 

A time for everything under heaven

IMG_471718 years ago today, my heart tore in half when my son Douglas died of cancer.

The hospital room was so quiet and it smelled of tears. Tears that fell from my eyes like endless rivers of sorrow.

I thought I’d never stop crying.

I stopped believing in God. Stopped singing.

My ex husband got me a dog, Mac, to get over my grief and having that dog to pour all my love into brought me back to life.

He was a four legged replacement for the son I lost.

Sadly, 8 years ago today (on the 10 year anniversary of Douglas’ death), Mac’s life ended in a freak freeway accident on Highway 80.

So you COULD say that September 22 is my least favorite day of the year.

You could say that but you’d be wrong.

Because instead of spending the day grieving, I spend the day with my sons and my family, having fun and feeling alive, instead of mourning.

It gives me an opportunity to HONOR my loved ones but also gives me the chance to CELEBRATE everything that is wonderful and beautiful in my life.

Especially the two sons that I have.

So happy September 22nd, to all my friends. I hope it’s a happy one for you too.

Just Another Way to Bleed, reposted

I’ve been thinking about Anti-Valentine’s Day and how it seems like a lot more fun than Valentine’s Day.

I took the liberty of putting together some swag for Anti-Valentine’s Day which I found incredibly entertaining.

Hope you enjoy…

image image

 And of course what kind of holiday would it be if you didn’t have a glass to toast with?

imageBecause drinking is par for the course on Anti-Valentine’s Day.

imageBut don’t be too hard on yourself. Indulge in a little self love.

image Because don’t forget a little bitterness is in order.

image image
image image

 And remember, you’re one bad ass bitch.

imageSo embrace your inner witch.

imageA broken heart isn’t the end of the world.

imageSo don’t go playing with one of these

imageAnd if all else fails…

imageHappy Fucking Valentine’s Day to you.

image“Love sucks. Sometimes it feels good. Sometimes it’s just another way to bleed” ~ Laurell Hamilton