DON'T WAIT!

 Don't wait.

My dear friends, this is the most important piece of advice that I will EVER have to offer to you and to the world at large. DON'T WAIT!

Don't wait to take that trip. There's never going to be a perfect time and you're never going to have 'enough' money saved up for the trip of your dreams. Just go. Go now, before it's too late.

Don't wait to love the skin you’re in. Your body is a gift from the Universe. It's the best gift you'll ever get, and to love it with anything less than the whole of your being is an insult to the Universe.

Don't wait to be kind to yourself. Treat yourself the way people who love and care about you would treat you. Do it now.

Don't wait for a special occasion to use the "good China". Use it now! Use it when you have company over, use it when you're eating by yourself. Get some Panda Express takeout and class that shit up with some China plates, just because you can.

Don't avoid wearing those awesome fucking shoes you treated yourself to (well done, btw) because you want to keep them looking nice for as long as possible. Wear them now. Wear them everywhere. And when the day comes that those worn out, torn out, busted-sole shoes have to go the way of all things, rejoice in the fact they served their purpose in the world, because shoes are made to be worn.

Don't wait for a special occasion or an exclusive party invite to wear that sassy dress you just had to have. Wear it now! Wear it to dinner and a movie. Wear it to the grocery store. Walk the proverbial red carpet as you go to pick up your second grader from school. Rock that shit like the fabulous bitch that you are.

And more MOST important of all, DON'T WAIT TO TELL THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE, THAT YOU LOVE THEM. Read that again. And again. And now read it one more time. I cannot possibly stress this enough.

Tomorrow is promised to no one. I can't stress that enough, either. TOMORROW IS PROMISED TO NO ONE. You never know when the last time you told someone you love them will turn out to be the last time you ever told them you loved them.

I am writing this blog post today because just this morning my husband found out that his best friend in the entire world, his partner in crime since the first grade, passed away yesterday. Jason communicated with him on Sunday and had no idea that 24 hours later his friend would be gone forever.

Things happen... accidents, sickness, whatever. Life can turn on a dime and your whole world can change in the blink of an eye. So for the love of Christ and all that is holy, DON’T FUCKING WAIT. 

Motherhood

Today is Mother's Day. The one day of the year where mother's are revered for their sacrifices, pampered by their families, and given a moment or two to sit down and rest.

It's our day. It's one day. And after today it's going to be 364 days of all-go-no-quit, mama do this, mama do that, "Mom can I have...", "Mom can I go...", "Mom can you help me with..."

Being a mother is the most difficult job I have ever done. There is nothing else in my life that has caused me so much fear, doubt, heartache, worry, and stress. But at the same time it is the most rewarding, fulfilling, and IMPORTANT job I will EVER do. The only problem is, I don't even know if I am doing it right. I'd like to think that I am, but the cold hard truth is that I have no idea if I'm doing a good job at this or not.

Being a mother has not been easy for me. "Motherly Instinct" was such a foreign concept to me when I had children of my own, and I have struggled to do this right.
I have sat up in the middle of the night,  weeping at my own inadequacy and ineptness.
Burning hot tears of despair have rolled down my face and I have tried to convince myself that everything was going to be okay, and that 'this too shall pass'.
I have awoken in the middle of the night screaming, crying and shaking because of the unending nightmares of all the horrors of the world befalling my children, and my inability to protect/save them.

Being a mother is a hard, thankless job, almost all of the time. I have gotten up in the middle of the night to change soiled bedding. I have slept on the floor next to the bed of my feverish child, my cell phone alarm set to go off at 2am so that I can take her temperature and give her more fever reducing medicine if needed. I have rocked my children when they were scared, kissed tears off their cheeks when they were sad, and brought down a firm hand of discipline when they were out of line. I have been yelled at by my children. I have had eyes rolled at me and disgusted heavy sighs heaved in my direction. I have had my ears filled - constantly -  with whining, crying, begging, arguing, and back-talk. I have endured screams of pain, rage, and despair coming from the mouths of the tiny little humans that I made from scratch. I have spent the last 12 years living, as it were, in a prison of my own making.

So much of all of this has been done with no sleep, no thanks, no reward, and no relenting. Sometimes this job all feel like too much. Too, too much. But I get up and do the job anyway.

When Darkness Falls

There is something about me that a handful of people know but that is not actually public knowledge. Something (or rather, some things) that I have been living with for the past 3 decades of my life. I’ve never put these words out into a public forum before, and to be honest I’m not sure why I am doing so right now.

Maybe it’s my way of reaching out.
Maybe it’s a cry for help.
Maybe it’s an attempt to not feel so damn alone in all of this.
Maybe it’s so that, should I lose the battle and darkness win out, when searching for answers as to the WHY of it all, people will be able to look on here and go, “Oh, it was like that.”

I have Anxiety. I have Depression. Yes, it’s just like that.

I have what I refer to as ‘high functioning  anxiety’. I call it that because whatever else is going on, however scared I am or hopeless I feel, I get up, get dressed and I soldier on through my day. I function. I function dangerously close to ‘well’, considering how much I do in a day and how little rest I do it on. High functioning anxiety. That’s what I call it... that’s the lie I tell myself.

The reality of my Anxiety is that it is crippling. It is debilitating. It keeps me so weary and so scared and so hyper vigilant that I can’t ever relax. I can’t ever relax, I can’t ever let go, and I can’t ever feel at peace. I have Anxiety.

I have chronic Depression. I won’t ever refer to it as ‘high functioning depression’, because most days I feel as though I am barely able to function at all. I do function of course... I get up, get dressed, and I soldier on, just l Ike I do with the anxiety. The difference though is that, while I am able to put my Anxiety to use for myself, I can do no such thing with my Depression. There is no good that comes out of the big D. There is no benefit, there is no lesson, there is no silver lining. There is only the long, dark, bitter cold chasm.

I have Anxiety. I have Depression

The First Poem

This afternoon I was going through a box of old letters, cards, and keepsakes; waxing nostalgic, if you will. While going through an old Oreo tin of which has always held to most special of the letters, notes, etc, I came across a folded up piece of paper. I opened the note to find the very first poem that I ever wrote. I wrote this when I was in the 4th grade.

The Devil of Mercy 

I walk alone in the park at night

And the Devil of Mercy enters my sight.

I tremble and shake

As I feel the earth quake,

I’m filled with fright

As I am sucked into the deep, dark night.

The Devil of Mercy has not a care

As to what’s going on, when or where.

He deserves not a passion, but a cage to enclose

Tightly around his body, his shadow, his pose.

He does not live to his name,  it to what he believes

The world should be like, in its fearness and grieves.

I have one thing to say, and it shall be my last...

The fear in the world shall never quite pass.

I was 10 years old.

I asked Jason if he wanted to read the first poem I ever wrote and he said yes.

He read it and then folded it up and handed it back to me and said, “That’s a pretty dark poem sweetie.” I replied, “Yeah, it really is, isn’t it.”

I was 10. 

Finding the Words... Part 1

Dear *******,

There are so many things I’ve wanted to say.
So many memories relived day after day,
So many emotions felt over the years
If I said them all now I would deafen your ears.

You were my first love, so deep and so true,
All my worry and angst you’d eventually undo.
You were the one that opened my eyes,
You held me tight and listened to my cries.

You gave me a book once that helped save my life;
After reading and practice I laid down my strife.
“The Barefoot Doctor’s Guide to the Tao”
Helped me onto a new path, and look at me now.

I knew something that night you kissed me under the stars
The memory has lasted through the all of the scars.
I knew if I fell for you it’d end with me in tears
But I’ve never regretted it, not for all of these years.

Years have passed now; we’ve gone separate ways
But through everything there have been many days
I missed you so much I didn’t know what to do.
There’s a piece deep inside me that never stopped loving you.

Unsent Letters

Have you ever written a letter to someone - a real, honest to goodness handwritten letter - and never sent it to them? Maybe you intended to put it in the mail but didn't. Maybe you wrote it late at night and then read it to yourself by the morning light and decided there was no way that letter was fit to send. Maybe you wrote the letter with no intention of ever sending it.

Maybe you wrote the letter, poured your heart and soul into it, just to get the thoughts out of your head and the feelings out of your heart. As though with each stroke of the pen, the paper could absorb the very emotion you were trying to convey, and thereby the burden in your heart would be lessened.

I have written many such letters.

I have stayed up late on so many nights, writing words on paper through eyes blurred with tears, a mind bogged down in regret, and a heart heavy with sorrow. I have written word after word with ink that ran because of the tears falling onto the page.

There are so many things that happen in the course of a lifetime. So many loves, so many losses, so many triumphs, and so many soul crushing defeats. And sometimes, if you are a person with no one in your life close enough to you to share things with, you get so encumbered by all of the happenings that you feel you are drowning in a sea of frothy emotion. Unable to stay afloat or swim to shore, yet unable to sink far enough down to reach the peace of sweet oblivion.

I have been there. That has been me time after time throughout my life. And in those times of emotional heartache and despair, I have reached for the only lifeline I have ever found to be constantly there, no matter what - a pen and a piece of paper.

I have written until my hands ached. I have written until sleepiness has edged my words to the brink of incoherence.  I have written until the ink in the pen has run dry and until every inch of blank paper has been filled. I have opened a notebook and put pen to page until every ounce of love, hatred, fear, lust, hope and sorrow has been drained from my soul. And then I closed the notebook and put it away somewhere safe, where neither I nor the rest of the world could ever be affected by those words.

In effect, I have written to save my life.
It's something I have always done, and something I will always to. Because no matter what else the world has taken or will take from me, it can never take my words.

Katie do you know?

Dear Aunt Kate,

This is the 6th Christmas season since you went away. I miss you terribly all of the time, but tonight it is hitting me extra hard. I miss you so much it hurts.

Last weekend Jason set up our Christmas tree, and when he was done I went to task to decorate it. The first ornaments on the tree are always the ones from the box my dad gave me on my wedding day. You remember my first wedding? That’s the only one you were ever able to attend. Anyway, the box Dad gave to me that day had all of the ornaments with my name on them that you had made and given to your brother to put on his tree.

You want to hear something funny Kate? All my years as a child and an adolescent and a young adult, I NEVER knew that you were the one responsible for the family ornaments. When I was little I thought they came from Santa, and Dad never corrected me on that. Can you believe that? Your oldest brother let Santa Clause steal you’re thunder!

This year I reflected on each ornament as I pulled it out of the box and carefully selected its place on the tree. I looked at the years and I tried to remember what things had happened in my life during each of those years. And then I started thinking about all of the things that have happened in my life since the ornaments stopped coming. All of the triumphs and the heartache and the hope and the wonder. I thought about all the things I would have shared directly with you if you were still here.

Do you know that a few months after my family moved to Spokane I got my first job since having kids? I’ve been with the company 6 years now, and I love everything about my job and I’m extremely good at it. I’m liked by my coworkers and respected by management, and I go each work each day kicking ass and taking names. Do you know that Kate?

Do you know that one year after we moved to Spokane I left my husband? I had to make the terrible decision to break apart my family to save myself and change the future for my children. It was so hard, and there were so many far reaching consequences of my decision. I know I did the right thing, but I desperately wanted you here to talk to about it when it was all happening. Do you know that Kate?

Do you know that, against all odd (as a single mother with 2 kids) I found love again? His name is Jason and he is the most wonderful man. He is kind and thoughtful and funny as hell.

The girls absolutely adore him too!

Do you know that Jason and I got married twice? The first time was at the Hitching Post in 2017. 

The  2nd time was in the Catholic parish in the town where Jason grew up. His parents and his sister were there, and they are all wonderful people. You would really like them.

We have a great marriage and the girls and Jason and I have become a wonderful family unit. We share custody of the girls 50/50 with Steve, so when we do have them it’s family time full of reading and learning and adventures. And when we don’t have the kids it’s sleeping in on the weekends and cake for breakfast. Do you know that Kate?

Do you know that Kasey graduated in June of 2018 with a Bachelors degree from the University of Washington? 

His degree is in Economics, which sounds terribly boring to me. But Kasey persevered over two decades and became the only one of us kids to go to college. I had the honor and privilege of going to Seattle to see him get his diploma in Husky Stadium. It was a magical day and I felt so much pride for your Godson, and I know you would have too. Do you know that Kate?

Do you know that Marida is my mini-me? She looks just like me when I was her age, she has the same pun-filled sense of humor that I do, she has the same kind of inappropriate emotional responses to stressful situations, and she has MY EYES. Do you know that Kate? I didn’t realize it myself until a month or so ago, we have the Exact. Same. Eyes.

Do you know how big my girls have gotten? The last time you saw Maron and Marida they were toddlers. Actually Maron was a toddler and Marida was still a baby. You wouldn’t believe your eyes if you saw them today Kate. They have gone from this

To this

In the blink of an eye.

They fight sometimes, as all sisters do. But they also play together and watch movies together and laugh together. Seeing my girls bonding with each other is the most rewarding thing I can imagine. Do you know that Kate?

Do you know that my girls and I are all official members of the Catholic Church? We go to church every weekend. Maron and Marida are altar servers now, and I serve as a lector. 

I wish you could have been there to see them get Baptized, Kate. You would have been so proud of those little girls!!

Aunt Jenny is one of their God mothers. She got each of the girls an age appropriate bible as a baptism gift. And just last weekend she gave me a gorgeous snow globe with the Nativity scene inside of it that also plays music. She said she wanted her God daughters to have it, and I was so moved I wanted to cry. Do you know that Kate?

Do you remember when Kasey and Lisa got married?

Well Kasey and Lisa are still living happily ever after in Seattle, and in August 2nd of this year they welcomed their first child together. They had a healthy baby boy. His name is Andrew Edward Strube-Kilgore, and he is adorable. He looks just like his daddy!

Whenever I want a new picture of him I send Lisa a baby emoji. I call it the Baby Bat Signal, and every picture I get from her I make sure to forward to Dad so he can download it onto his phone. He is so proud that his first-born son has a first-born son of his own, just as he is the first-born son. If this happens 5 more times we’ll have a wizard in the family. Do you know that Kate?

Do you know how sad everyone in the family was when you died? Do you know how sad I was? Do you know how painful your absence in my life has been? Do you know what I would give to have one more phone conversation with you? Do you know that right now it is half past midnight and I am sitting on the floor of my living room, ugly crying, as I type up this blog post? Do you know how much my heart hurts when I hang this on my Christmas tree:

Do you know that Kate?