pWdumaNjA-6CEEBhRoD5euxNETs When All This Actual Life Played Out: Patch me back to my mind

11 April 2013

Patch me back to my mind


The daughter
Oak Glen, California
16 May 2008

I got a funny email from a friend this morning. Subject line was "Happy Anniversary."

Five years, it noted.

(You can read about that here and here. That trip is a gift that keeps giving.)

The spouse woke me this morning with a cup of coffee.

"I had the funniest dream about you," he chortled.

"Uh-oh," I groaned.

"We were in this hoity-toity museum, and there was this beautiful sculptural piece of art. But you recognized it as something that had been stolen from a place you'd worked. You tried to get someone to pay attention to the fact that it was stolen, but no one would listen. So you started yelling at the top of your lungs, 'LOOK AT THIS BEAUTIFUL STOLEN PIECE OF ART.' And the museum officials were freaking out and the guards were running around in circles, but you stood there with this big-ass smile, yelling, 'SUCH GORGEOUS STOLEN ART!'"

"Oh my God," I murmured into my cup. "I can't believe that is how you see me."

"It was great!" the spouse laughed. "You never stopped smiling."

I am, in many ways, an introvert. I see one of my greatest failings as being sometimes overwhelmingly shy. I'm much better now than I was as a kid, though it will still hit me hard at times. However, I have a streak of self-righteousness that is a mile wide, and when that rears its head, everything else goes out the window. So yeah, the spouse's dream would be an accurate representation of what I might do if riled. And he knew it.

And he loves it. Evidently.

But the makings of another story are there. It's a story of life. It's a story of righting what needs to be righted. Of not giving up, no matter the push back. Of making noise when necessary. And I do make noise, though I'm leery of admitting it. Especially when the noise is loud enough to embarrass me, even if I'm doing what I think is the right thing.

(I always think of Will Smith firing off the Noisy Cricket in Men in Black. Because DAMN.)

So there we are. Body is still broken; head is getting back where it needs to be. I stagger around singing. Chaos (some of it of my own making. Hello, Austin and Baltimore!) swirls around me. My life is a gorgeous piece of art, periodically stolen from me by circumstances that I sure as hell can't control, but such is life.

And I can steal it right back. It is my life. Mine. All mine.

A broken heart is blind. A healing heart reawakens.

Tech stuff: Taken with my Nikon D40. And that one up there in the photo has been invited to take a special high school chemistry test because she's so freaking awesome. Zombies and AP classes and awesome, oh my. Also, go listen to some good music: "Little Black Submarines" from the album El Camino by The Black Keys.

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