Prodding, Pondering, Pursuing

I'm an odd duck.  One would think that with The Mom in the house I would be able to sleep as soundly as I did back in the house on Jenkisson but this is not the case.  I should have come up to bed prior to Dad {Any-Dad, not Papa} leaving or BiL {little does he know that this is his new nickname! HA! yay for the discoveries at 2 am}whisking off in Bitz' car.  But here I am awake with a mind in over-drive.

Last night Gams posed a question about three minutes into the fourth quarter.  The game was close and I pretended not to hear him. He confirmed that I had, in reality,heard the question and let it sit out there, to be pondered, not pushing for the answer as I prodded him for his response to the very same question.  For the opposite and often wiser sex the possible answers to the question seem endless.  For me, up until a tiny bit ago, it seemed I had the same vast and wide landscape to be ventured upon, experimented with. It was interesting and intriguing when Gams finally gave his response, honest and unknown. 

We got caught up in a ridiculous mishap by Millsap and the resulting overtime and the question was pushed to the back-burner as screaming, jumping, and listening to the eclectic crowd around us took precedence, obviously. But soon, after the Jazz victory was stamped, my mind turned back to the question and Gams began the prodding ... fair enough.  I hesitated, as stating it out loud was still incredibly foreign to me.  With my hands twisted before me I spoke it out loud and before the necessary time for a reaction had passed I wanted to retract my response, not for fear of said reaction but for the abashed way in which it was pronounced.  My voice took no ownership, conveyed no pride in the words which were spoken.

Lots of topics were discussed over the next hour or so, proving there is so much more than good gams, a graceful stride down the court, and priceless peepers to this guy.  Strangely enough, I felt comfortable in our conversation, more than just basketball banter and tights-tie compliments. This comfort level opened me up to a bit of self-reflection after I crawled into bed last night, emotional talk and realizations were occurring for others ... why not me as well? Was my answer truly what my heart wants? Why did I hesitate?  Why am I so fearful of that future that I hope for? Hmm ...

Today WBF called, not thrilled with my company choice for the previous evening nor my location for the day.  He was ornery and I suppose he had reason to be, to a degree.  But I was tired and his orneriness simply pushed me into my own state of the same irritation.  His reaction to my reaction was far from my own.  He heard my tone change to defensive and immediately became this nice and understanding guy, apologizing for his shortness and finding understanding for my erratic behavior. I should have mirrored his response but I failed to overcome my own curt behavior.  He maintained his stride in his second-gear of the conversation.  Bless him.

Tonight I was happy to tease PT but Bells was hurt, so the teasing turned into more of a jab.  I tried to recover but PT was already far beyond frustrated with me and so there was failure there.  I turned to see Luck sitting at the table and words that he spoke three months ago came echoing back into my ears, 'giving up the seven for the one and then the many.' Ah, the familiar echo that has played from 9:12 to 9:16 each Sunday for the last while as I ponder which active and forward motions I should pursue during the week. The echo that combines with Papa's words {from two Sunday's ago when I had to exit stage left prior to the end of the first hour due to a bit of anxiety} of 'the I was ready to quiet the echo down but came home to find couples and invitations to the confirmation of Bitz forward motions. B&B soon joined, followed by Mom and Dad.  As I stuffed envelopes for the forthcoming event my mind went back to the words spoken with trepidation the night before on South Temple.  Here I was surrounded by people who had conquered their fears, taken steps forward into an unknown adventure and made it through with a gift, a timeless treasure.  They had all done it and will get there 'many' as time moves forward. 

My point? I do have a point, as cryptic as it may be to some of you.  I've been told on more than one occasion as of late that I'm a fantastic cheerleader.  I'm awfully great at reminding my 'people' how brilliant and lovely they are and more importantly how capable they are of seeking after and achieving 'it' ~ whatever that may be.  And now that I've discovered, after a bit of wandering and misplaced passions, my own 'it' ... it's time for me to do as Luck asked and PURSUE, leaving behind somethings that aren't as important. It's time to stop hiding in what I have had for so very long, the comfortable and the familiar.  It is time.  I truly have been so very blessed in my life with patient humans surrounding me, buoying me up.  But I've got stuff to do now, dreams to pursue, an answer to be proud of rather than avoid and then regret.  I'm going to go ahead and do that now, right now.

My heartfelt thanks to Luck, Papa, and Gams {unbeknownst to the latter likely} for their timely questions and slightly irritating prodding.

Marching into March

At the beginning of February I spoke with CA, setting goals and such.  February was month of Felicity, happiness.  In the final hours of the month, granted an extra day due to the world's rotation, Aunt Betty passed ... returning to Uncle Bud, the love of her life.  She was granted her happiness, surrounding by her sisters and daughters.
 
I visited Aunt Betty a lot while I was at home.  It was nice going to talk to someone, without the world knowing, who would hold my hand with such delicacy and listen with her whole heart ... forgetting it all moments after I left.  Is it wrong I found such comfort in that?  I could vent my frustrations about x-future-Mr.-Kasi and the fears that I had about it all and she would be sympathetic but not worry about me after I exited her room.  She would ask about 'our' story and respond with smiles and tears.  She would share moments about her and her Bud, laughing at their fun failures and shedding sweet tears over their successes.  It was not a perfect marriage, she was first to admit that, but she certainly loved that man with her whole heart.  When Smiles came into my life, I shared with her my trepidation and she offered me the courage to try again ... and again. I miss her already.

March is March Madness ... CA and I stole the title from the NCAA (if you are lost, bless you - my theater loving friend and just continue reading).  It's a month of booked weekends and moving forward, decisions. He asked that I have two adult conversations this month.  I think he assumes that if he asks for just one I'll find someone else to have it with.  Two means he gets one ... I'm not dense enough not to pick up on that. But there are 31 days in this month and I love waiting 'til the final hour ~ that is Saturday. I asked that he spend less time contemplating and more time living. Cease the day! Dance! Hold hands! Laugh until you pee a little {but not on my couch}! Be read to! Read to someone! Take the picture even if your hair is a mess! Wake up and see the sunrise! Return the text with call! Just show up! and please, SMILE! and breathe.